Complex
six
I wanted to run. My skin crawled when his hand covered mine. He acted like nothing happened. I didn't want this. I couldn't breathe. His mouth twitched upwards as he watched me, not noticing the fear in my eyes of everything coming back; and so quickly.
"I'm so glad that you decided to meet with me again," he told me, giving my hand a squeeze. I could feel my palm begin to cover with sweat. Breathe in. Breath out. You can make it through this. I smiled slightly, trying to regain control of myself. He could probably feel my hand shaking underneath his. My other hand wrapped around the to-go coffee cup that was on the table. I needed to act normal. "I missed you so much," he drew out every word as he leaned closer.
Unconsciously, I moved backwards, my hand gripping the cup tighter. "You said we were going to talk," I whispered, bringing the cup to my lips, trying ot keep myself occupied. He chuckled and nodded his head, taking my hand in his. It was going to go too far, wasn't it? I wasn't ready for him to be so intimate; I was angry with him. "Let go off my hand, please," I told him, faiing at trying to be stern.
He chuckled again, bringing his lips closer to my hand. He placed several kissed on my knuckles before I pulled my hand back, shocked. My eyes glanced at the doors in front on me, and back to Isaac. "There's nothing to talk about," he grinned, "we're back together, continuing from where we left off; that's what you wanted right, Stasia?"
I stood up, staring at him in disbelief. I thought he would actually want to talk. I knew he wouldn't. He looked surprised, motioning for me to sit back down. I shook my head at him, beginning to walk towards the doors. His hand gripped my forearm, it seemed he didn't care if he made a scene. I could already feel people glance at us, making me more unconfortable than I already was. "I'm leaving," I said, my voice almost faltering.
"I'd sit back down if I were you, you'll make it worse for yourself otherwise," he threatened, digging into my eyes. I pulled myself from his grip and walked towards the door, not sparing a look over my shoulder. I knew he was angry and I knew he would want to meet again. My response to my unasked question was a text message as soon as I walked out of the cafe. I whispered inchoerent things to myself, persuading myself not to break down.
I don't think it would work.
"I'm so glad that you decided to meet with me again," he told me, giving my hand a squeeze. I could feel my palm begin to cover with sweat. Breathe in. Breath out. You can make it through this. I smiled slightly, trying to regain control of myself. He could probably feel my hand shaking underneath his. My other hand wrapped around the to-go coffee cup that was on the table. I needed to act normal. "I missed you so much," he drew out every word as he leaned closer.
Unconsciously, I moved backwards, my hand gripping the cup tighter. "You said we were going to talk," I whispered, bringing the cup to my lips, trying ot keep myself occupied. He chuckled and nodded his head, taking my hand in his. It was going to go too far, wasn't it? I wasn't ready for him to be so intimate; I was angry with him. "Let go off my hand, please," I told him, faiing at trying to be stern.
He chuckled again, bringing his lips closer to my hand. He placed several kissed on my knuckles before I pulled my hand back, shocked. My eyes glanced at the doors in front on me, and back to Isaac. "There's nothing to talk about," he grinned, "we're back together, continuing from where we left off; that's what you wanted right, Stasia?"
I stood up, staring at him in disbelief. I thought he would actually want to talk. I knew he wouldn't. He looked surprised, motioning for me to sit back down. I shook my head at him, beginning to walk towards the doors. His hand gripped my forearm, it seemed he didn't care if he made a scene. I could already feel people glance at us, making me more unconfortable than I already was. "I'm leaving," I said, my voice almost faltering.
"I'd sit back down if I were you, you'll make it worse for yourself otherwise," he threatened, digging into my eyes. I pulled myself from his grip and walked towards the door, not sparing a look over my shoulder. I knew he was angry and I knew he would want to meet again. My response to my unasked question was a text message as soon as I walked out of the cafe. I whispered inchoerent things to myself, persuading myself not to break down.
I don't think it would work.