Pest Control ✔

PC │009

【A L V I N】

"No offense, Alv, but don't you think you should mind your own business?" Antonio questioned, trying to come off as gentle as possible as he leaned in closer with his palms pressed up against his cheek and his elbows resting on his knees. "Hold on, that sounds a little rude. I meant - you don't even know this guy well enough and you're saying you want to help him out?"

"No offense, babe," Rowan began, scratching their chin as if they were deeply scrutinizing the situation. "But if someone saw me in that state, I'd want them to help me out."

"What if he doesn't want to be helped?" Margot questioned, tilting her head. "I'm not disagreeing, I'm just curious."

"We all want to be helped," Delilah chimed in. "Some of us are just too afraid to admit it."

"Good point," Antonio said with a small grin. "In that case, how are you going to help him out? You can't just jump into this whole thing without a plan."

"Stop making it seem like some kind of mission out of Totally Spies," Margot snorted. "But honestly, I'm curious as well."

Then, all eyes were on me. I shifted nervously in my place and cleared my throat, "I don't really have a plan-" cue the gasps. "-But I think I should try befriending him first, and then I should try to get a little closer to him so I can ask him about his problems when I've earned his trust, and I can figure out how to help him out after that."

"Okay, I have a question," Rowan began. "Have you ever seen him with anyone else? Does anyone ever show up to his place or anything?"

"Hmm," I began, looking away at a blank wall to recollect my memories from the three years that I had been living beside him. That's when I realized that in those three years, not once had he brought people over to his place. When I had said that I hadn't noticed him, I was only being partially honest. Sometimes, when I was overwhelmed by my emotions, which happened quite often the first two years I had moved into my home, I used to sit on my bed and just stare out the window for hours on end. Not once in any of those days had I ever seen another car parked in front of his house, an extra pair of slippers or him hanging out with anyone else. 

"This is going to sound a little weird," I began, looking back at Rowan. "But I don't think he has any friends."

"What do you mean he doesn't have any friends?" they questioned, raising their eyebrows in confusion. 

"I've never seen him bring anyone over.. like ever," I informed. "I just assumed he was an introvert or something like that."

What followed was complete silence. All of us took a few minutes of dead silence to ourselves, thinking. Then, Antonio let out a sigh and cleared his throat to break the ice, "This is going to sound a little.. I don't know. But, Alvin, why don't you invite him over?"

"Huh?" I responded in confusion.

"If it's true that he has no friends, then he should at least consider you a friend by now considering the amount of times you've invited him over to kill those damn roaches for you." 

"But that doesn't mean he'd consider me a friend-"

"I don't bake muffins for people I don't consider my friends," he responded with shrug. "Now are you going to go invite him over or should I go and do it myself?"

I rolled my eyes in defeat. There was no way in hell that I'd win against Antonio Fibonacci.

"Fine," I grumbled before getting off the couch I was seated in and hesitantly making my way over to the front door. Before opening it and heading out, I looked over my shoulder and said; "You owe me if he says no." And just like that, in the blink of an eye, I found myself standing in front of his porch once again.

I didn't know why I was so nervous. I hadn't been this nervous the first three times I'd showed up to his place. Then again, a roach was responsible for the first two times and the third time was because I had something to return to him. This time, I was attempting to ask him if he wanted to hang out with my friends.

I pushed aside all the negative thoughts my mind was flooded with and rang the doorbell with my heart racing. I waited a minute, then two minutes - then five whole minutes with no answer. I'd even attempted ringing the bell a second time, and when he didn't answer, I turned to leave. Just then, I heard the door creak open. 

I spun around quickly and met his gaze. His eyebrows were furrowed in confusion and he had his head tilted at me, "What is it that you want? Is there another cockroach?"

"No," I said, forcing out a chuckle. "I just wanted to um.." I paused, not knowing what to say next. 

"Go on," he urged, crossing his arms across his chest - such a simple action that intimidated me more than it should have. 

I shifted my weight and rubbed the sole of my shoes against the flooring of his porch before finally choking out, "I'm with my friends and I wanted to know if you would like to hang out with us? They aren't mean, I promise."

"Uh," he began, confusion laced in his tone. "Why do you want me there?"

"It's been three years. We should get to know each other, don't you think?" I responded, preparing myself for the ultimate rejection I was potentially about to face.

He inhaled shakily and stayed silent for a moment before breathing out, "I'm sorry. It isn't the right time."

There it was. The ultimate rejection.

"Oh, no. I completely understand," I said, averting my gaze to his hands in embarrassment before waving him off and doing a whole one-eighty so I could leave. 

Just that simple encounter had left so many burning questions on the brink of lighting my mind on fire. The primary one being: why were his knuckles bleeding?