Status: Sorry to leave you hanging guys! The keyboard on my laptop is malfunctioning.
Stop Pretending That You're Sorry
29
I wish you would tell me how you really feel, but you'll never tell me 'cause that's not our deal.
John stood with his back facing me, starting to work on dinner.
I was seated at the kitchen table, my arms crossed and my heart slowly breaking, piece by fucking piece.
We stayed like that, not making any kind of contact with each other until Max got back.
“Hey, I got ice cream, pretzels, cheese, hot pockets, orange juice and sprite.”
“You were supposed to be getting milk,” John said, finally turning around.
“Was I? Shit.” Max set the plastic grocery bags down on the table in front of me. “Hey is everything okay? I feel like I just dove into a sea of awkward and tension.”
“Everything’s fine,” John said. Fuck him and his cold ass heart.
The boys joined me at the table once dinner was ready. We were having spaghetti. I refused to eat it, but John put a plate in front of me anyway.
They continued on as normal, some light conversation through mouthfuls of noodles. It was irking me. Things were quite obviously not normal.
An angry strangle sound came out of my throat and I jumped to my feet.
“Oh fuck you!” I hollered, heading out the front door.
“Regan, Regan wait!”
“Go away, Mr. Harrington.”
Damn he was fast, I picked up my pace.
“Regan please, I’m so-“ He caught himself that time. “Regan just stop a minute.”
“Fuck off.”
“Regan.” He’d finally caught up with me. His hand was warm and soft as it wrapped around my wrist pulling me to a halt. “Stop, just stop.”
“Why should I?” I snapped, angry tears starting to boil up.
He didn’t try to explain himself. In fact he didn’t say anything. He just pressed his lips against mine. When he pulled back, his lips turned up into a smile. I was just standing there shocked.
“Yes,” He whispered.
“What?”
“Yes, you’re worth it.”
And then next thing I know my legs are wrapped around his hips, and his hands are tangled in my hair. It kind of hurt, but I didn’t care. This was what I wanted.
John stood with his back facing me, starting to work on dinner.
I was seated at the kitchen table, my arms crossed and my heart slowly breaking, piece by fucking piece.
We stayed like that, not making any kind of contact with each other until Max got back.
“Hey, I got ice cream, pretzels, cheese, hot pockets, orange juice and sprite.”
“You were supposed to be getting milk,” John said, finally turning around.
“Was I? Shit.” Max set the plastic grocery bags down on the table in front of me. “Hey is everything okay? I feel like I just dove into a sea of awkward and tension.”
“Everything’s fine,” John said. Fuck him and his cold ass heart.
The boys joined me at the table once dinner was ready. We were having spaghetti. I refused to eat it, but John put a plate in front of me anyway.
They continued on as normal, some light conversation through mouthfuls of noodles. It was irking me. Things were quite obviously not normal.
An angry strangle sound came out of my throat and I jumped to my feet.
“Oh fuck you!” I hollered, heading out the front door.
“Regan, Regan wait!”
“Go away, Mr. Harrington.”
Damn he was fast, I picked up my pace.
“Regan please, I’m so-“ He caught himself that time. “Regan just stop a minute.”
“Fuck off.”
“Regan.” He’d finally caught up with me. His hand was warm and soft as it wrapped around my wrist pulling me to a halt. “Stop, just stop.”
“Why should I?” I snapped, angry tears starting to boil up.
He didn’t try to explain himself. In fact he didn’t say anything. He just pressed his lips against mine. When he pulled back, his lips turned up into a smile. I was just standing there shocked.
“Yes,” He whispered.
“What?”
“Yes, you’re worth it.”
And then next thing I know my legs are wrapped around his hips, and his hands are tangled in my hair. It kind of hurt, but I didn’t care. This was what I wanted.