Time continued on. It wasn't the end of the world. It was just the end of hers.
Yet, he barged in and forced her to fix it like it was his job to.
»»----- -----««
Or, in which, Edward asks out a girl that he doesn't stalk.
»»----- -----««
"God sho...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Abby subtly shook the urge to laugh away and watched his crooked smirk become a kind smile. She went to look back to her canvas, adjusting herself in her stool while trying to catch her breath after staring at Edward for far too long. What on earth was he doing to her?
"I'm sorry," Abby began, squeezing out a few colors of oil paint onto her palette.
Edward watched in awe as she almost instantly got lost into creating a new color with the ones she already started with. Edward also intently listened has he got rejected.
She continued releasing a deep breath, "I need to make my brother something for dinner when he gets back from work. The man thinks cereal is a meal to eat three times a day."
The young brunette started to softly stroke her paint brush at the top right corner of her white canvas that she already applied liquid white on. She wanted to say yes, as horrified as she was with the idea of it. But he was so, so profoundly curious that it made her want to tell him everything. It absolutely terrified her.
From the corner of her eye, she saw him nod and adjust his very own aisle, "I now see why they only call it 'southern hospitality'."
Abby felt her jaw drop at the accusation, making her turn her head towards him to see him smirk at her humorously. He turned away from her to grab an unopened package of charcoal so that he could start on his bushes. The dead man knew how play instruments and draw bushes.
The girl went back to her artwork, shaking her head at the insult, and heeded, "Fine, tomorrow after school then. I'll show you the three mile radius that is Forks, Washington."
Edward almost sprang off the walls and danced in circle around her but he kept his cool and said, "I'll drive."
***
She rushed out of the classroom, barely bidding adieu to the boy who was making her question her sanity or maybe she was making herself question her own sanity - she wasn't so sure. Abby went to her locker and grabbed the necessary books she needed for tonight and her umbrella because she knew from her art class window that it was raining.
The moment she got into her car, she released the largest breath of air she was holding the entire day. One day down, she repeated to herself. Abby closed her eyes and held onto the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles slowly turned to a ghastly white. Leaning her forehead against the top of the wheel, she breathed out again - slower this time.
One day down.
She swallowed the lump in her throat harshly and slowly pulled out of the parking lot, completely unaware of the familiar topaz eyes watching her leave.
Abby didn't realize going home would feel worse than going to school. Maybe it was because no one was ever home anymore. She parked her car in the driveway, leaving enough room for her brothers Dodge Challenger he bought while he was a detective in Seattle.
