The Eccedentesiast

Chapter Thirty-eight

—
Chapter Thirty-eight
—

Emma struggled to fit the key through the hole. She might have just woken up a few neighbors because she ran down the hall like a maniac, but she was more concerned about coming inside this apartment and knowing that her best friends were there, ready for her hug.

She ran all the way home. It wasn't even that far from the party, only a twenty-minute run. She walked most of the way, and she didn't let herself think, not when there were cars that she could jump in front of or the alleys where she could find some broken glass shards and slit her wrists with.

She didn't think about any of that, she thought about home—they would make her feel better after the shitty night she'd had. It was only one in the morning and there was a thirty percent chance that they were already sleeping once she opened this door.

And when she did, she wasn't entirely wrong. The lights were on—the kitchen's light was on at least, the one above the stove and she smiled so brightly, people would think the sun had already risen.

Emma closed the door gently behind her, just in case they were sleeping. She locked it and slid the chain on the door. She put her keys and phone down on the kitchen counter. She walked deeper into the apartment and stopped right where the living room and kitchen were separated.

There were blankets and pillows and clothes on the yellow couch. There was a belt on the coffee table and so was a phone and keys, a pen, a watch, cuff links, and an open laptop.

She walked back into the kitchen and opened the fridge. There was nothing inside, other than a pizza box and some water bottles.

She opened the pizza box, only seeing three slices left, and grabbed one. She closed the fridge again and took a bite of the still-warm pizza, which meant it was put inside just a while ago.

She leaned her elbows on the breakfast bar as she looked at the stuff that was on the coffee table and the couch. She just looked at them as she ate, not thinking about why it was there but about how shiny that belt buckle is or how soft those pillows seemed to be.

Emma stopped chewing when she heard the distant flush of a toilet, bare feet walking on the floor as they got closer.

Then, Emiliano showed up and completely ignored her presence, not knowing she was standing there. The light above the stove wasn't so bright either way.

He groaned as he leaned down to grab his phone. He did something on it for a minute, Emma stared at his bareback. He put it down after another minute and started fixing up two pillows on one end of the couch.

He started humming some random melody in the dimly lit room. His muscles contorted, each time he lifted a pillow or the blanket, his muscles would grow and define themselves. She hasn't seen his body in two years maybe.

Emma accidentally let the pizza fall out of her hand, making him look up. She cleared her throat and picked it up from where it fell on the counter. She bit into it again and chewed.

"Hey," she mumbled.

Emiliano furrowed his eyebrows and sat down on the couch. "Hey."

They stared at each other. "What are you doing here?"

Emiliano raised an eyebrow. "After all the times you've slept in my home, took advantage of the food in my fridge, and broken way too many of my windows to count, you're asking me what I'm doing here?"

Emma gulped. "You're here to get revenge?" She tried to be silly but failed.

He sighed and shook his head, rubbing his eyes that were already closing by themselves. "Whatever. I live an hour away from here, I don't even know why I came in the first place."