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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The heavy realization of the situation fell upon me the moment Connor unlocked the front door and we were greeted by an empty dark lobby. Because there wasn't anyone home. And I'd be staying over.
I'd driven to a nice two story house a few blocks from our high school. The walk here hadn't been that long actually, and once we've left that environment on the fabric Connor had relaxed all over again, being less snappy and harsh. Back to normal... or what we could call normal with his kind of personality. He isn't limping anymore, proving what Trevor had mentioned in the car about it being just a bad move rather than a lesion. His lips had swollen, tho, and even if the cut in his brow wasn't bleeding anymore, it looked painful.
So we wandered our way here at our own rhythm, I knew he wouldn't complain so I decided to walk slowly and Connor just adapted to it, letting me babble and ramble about everything and anything. True to our now familiar dynamic. And I was okay with him nodding and making the simplest remarks here and there. But, well, he was interacting at least. Two months ago this would have seemed impossible, yet now here we were.
Connor dropped the keys on the counter at our side and walked in without a second thought, like this wasn't new or weird or anything. And... I guess it wasn't? I'd been here plenty of times, even if it was with Norah. And we were friends so...
"I'm hungry." he suddenly announced as I close the door and the quiet air settled in our bones. Connor shrugged his shoulders back entering the living room, letting his jumpers slid and drop it however as he passed the couch. "Come on."
"Where?" but I followed him into the kitchen and saw him opening drawers and pulling out stuff. He didn't respond my stupid question and I chose to think he hadn't heard it at all seeing how incredibly silly it is to ask such a thing when he literally just said he was hungry.
He'd activated the temperature control system the moment we'd stepped in and the house was already getting warmer, but I still didn't want to get off the large hoodie I'd been lent. I liked it. How it was cozy and softer than it seems. And the smell... Whatever. I just decided to roll up the sleeves and leaned against the door frame as I watched Connor prepare stuff.
"Any suggestion?" he spoke again and I was startled by his voice as he didn't stop moving around gathering stuff.
"I don't know. You're the one hungry." I carefully stepped in as well, stopping at the other end of the table at the center. "Sweet or salty?"
"I don't know, eh..." he took out more and more pink tools. I bit back a smile. These looked odd on him, but seeing Norah's devotion in making deserts at every chance she got it only make sense this stuff was all hers. "What do you dig?"
"Me?" thrown aback at the sudden question it took me a moment to actually think of a proper response. And still all manage to come out was: "Sweet?"
He hummed, still taking things and I saw how he took the sugar too now. "Such as?"
