𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝙻𝚒𝚏𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 ✓ (𝟷𝟾+)

The Suit

Arin

That was it. The final straw.

No more pity party.

Throwing remaining contents of the melted ice cream, I fall back on bed. Roger's words resonated in my ears in a loop. I didn't mean anything to him. Babydoll was merely a word for 

I plopped my elbows and sat up on bed. Dialing dad, I scanned the ceiling, waiting for him to answer. The moment he picked up, a storm of words bowled over. 

"Xavier told me you went back home!" Dad's spiked tone narrated his state. He was mad and rightfully so. 

"Dad.. I.."

"No, I don't want to hear again that you miss your clothes or bed. Come back." He admonished. His anger radiates even over the call and I obediently nodded. It was hardly a week since I shifted to the mansion, only to come crawling back at my place. Dad was enraged by my undulating act. He was expecting me to stay back at the Oswalds'.

Since the day, Roger and I exchanged words, I was spun out. I wanted some space all for myself. Although the mansion had lots of space to begin with, I was still under dad's supervision there. I craved for independence, even if for a night. 

"Arin, my child," dad's voice wavered. "Is it because someone said something? Did Stella?"

Pfft. I wish. It would have been less heartbreaking, had it been her.

Before my answer, my room buzzed up again. Dad was quick to pick up on the background noise. "All the food and luxury in the world and there she goes, ordering greasy, unhealthy food." 

Laughing at his statement, I opened the door.

Roger appeared at my doorstep. In reflex, I shoved the door onto his face.

"Dad, I will call you later." I stand, watching the closed door, composing my ragged breaths.  

When the doorbell rang again, I knew it wasn't an imagination. Ready to blast off the entity on the other side, I quickly opened the door. Roger smiled, holding onto a brown paper bag flinging from his hand.

"Ice cream won't do as an apology." I said, walking in. 

He walked close behind, shutting the door.

"This isn't ice cream. It's your favorite. Oil fried unhealthy, heart attack inducing food." He said, rattling the brown bag again. 

Anger was a funny emotion. When you detest someone, it would spew. But if that same person stood next to you with a charming smile and a coma inducing food container, it was nowhere to be found. 

I know, I shouldn't forgive him. After what he said to me, I should have shoved the door at him, never to open again. But Roger was playing my weakness. Laughter. He was making me, or atleast trying to make me laugh. 

"I didn't order this.." I said, pointing to the bag and hooking my eyebrows in retort. 

He smiled and placed the contents on the table. "I know, I did it. After calling my doctor, asking him what majority of his obese patients ate." He was successfully in getting a smile drawn on my face. I reached out to take the bag but he pulled it back. "No, no. First things first.." Wiping his hands together, he proceeded to move closer. I involuntarily stepped back.

Tracing upto me, he held my shoulders, gazing into my eyes. I was quick to put on my 'annoyed at his rude behavior' mask. 

"I shouldn't have said that.." He said, words only merely air yet, infused with an apologetic tone.