He's cold, insensitive and rude... But why can't I stay away?
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My love life was the last of my problems. Last year, bullies, penny less... Senior year didn't present itself exactly as a dream. And everything gets even worst when...
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Warning: the chapter contains sensitive content that can be triggering
"Oh, hi." Connor's mother was again surprised when we entered the Mendleys place and she glanced up from her spot in the comfy armchair in the salon, her feet relaxing on the ottoman and a half empty mug on the coffee table.
Connor nodded at her, not even stopping on his way up towards his room. I stood there awkwardly for a moment, waving as she grinned over her book, a cute set of reading glasses rested on the tip of her nose.
"You're coming quite a lot lately, uh?"
Her eyes slid down, noticing Connor's black jumper. Self-consciously I felt my face growing hot, but I felt also relief that with her attention there she didn't notice the run in my stocking or the stinging scratches on the side of my forehead.
"Yes." I giggled, blushing at her obvious insinuation, but before I could make an excuse or babble idiotically Connor called from the up floor:
"Alyson."
"Yes, I, uh- nice seeing you Mrs Mendley." I waved her again moronically before moving towards the stairs too.
"But, wait! You want something to eat? I'm making a shortcake."
"We're fine." deadpanned Connor as I reached the top of the stairs and his fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling me after him towards his room and slamming the door. "Are you hungry?"
Really? Right now the mere thought of eating got my mouth drying and I felt my stomach closed up as ever. "Not really."
His dark eyes scanned me, frowning at the scratch in my forehead and something swirled under his eyes before he looked away, dropping my wrist. "You need to clean that up."
"I- I need to know what you meant." he hummed but didn't respond, instead he moved to retrieve a first aid kid from one of the top shelves. "Connor." I frowned as he sidestepped me and sat on the mattress, with the box in his lap and dropping his backpack to the ground. "You say we would talk."
"Did I?" he sounded as cold as he usually does, blocking his emotions from me, probably regretting ever even bringing the topic up.
"You said-" but my voice failed when he took my wrist again and made me sit beside him, so close I was dazed like only he made me and for a second I lose the train of my thoughts. My breath hitched too and I straightened my spine when his left hand moved to brush my hair away and the other brought a little cotton there, cleaning the scratch. "It stings."
"Suck it up." but his fingers loosened strength and wipe the other scratch. Jade's nails had almost broken the skin, blood hadn't been dropped, but almost. And my thumb ached too.
