Through my fingertips

21. I'm always the problem

Song for the chapter / Anti-Hero

Hayden's POV

"Beth, wait!"

I'm such a fucking idiot. After the shit show she endured at Lance's party, that should have been a clear enough of an indication she was in no mood to be in the present of other people.

But no. Being the chivalrous motherfucker I was attempting to be, I thought it would be a nice idea to steer her to my favourite childhood restaurant as a sweet distraction from the mess that bastard embedded into her head.

Instead, I find myself running down the restaurant's spiral staircase, two per time as I race after a self-conscious Beth.

Damn. That girl has a real good run on her.

As I flash out of there, the restaurant transcends into a blurry mesh, all apart from Derek where I quickly capture his questionable, perplexed look before continuing my quick sprint into the late evening.

Apart from soccer games, I've never been more thankful for my boundless physical agility till now. Just as she sprints round the corner, my hand manages to reach out and web around her arm.

Beth's body goes absolute rigid; every muscle in her arm solidifies until it feels like I'm clasping hold of bricks.

"Just leave me Hayden. You're better off," she  whispers dejectedly.

What on earth does that even mean?

For the short time I've known Beth for, her vacant expressions and reserved personality have only built upon the curiosity that is stirring in my thoughts.

As I stressed before, she's an enigma. I can't predict what her next behaviour would be. She would act a certain way then change completely.

But then again, that's not necessarily a bad thing either. While I'm still wrapping my head around her, I've come to realise her emotions only change in response to stimuli.

Now I want to find out why they change so drastically.

She has anxiety you two-head fucking baboon.

"What do you mean by that? Talk to me, baby."

I don't know why that cheesy, inappropriately nickname tagged itself at the end of the question.
Even as a romantic nickname, I don't find pleasure calling a girl by that.

It's generic and there's little meaning behind the term.

Then why the fuck did you call her that, dumbass?

For instance, if I were to give Beth a nickname, it would be Autumn; her eyes and personality resemble the season.

Her eyes merge between a warm orange, molten gold and honey brown. In the glistening sunlight, they verge towards a warmer shade of gold and orange - a sweet connotation to thanksgiving - and in the darkness, as right now, her eyes have deviated towards a heavier shade of honey brown.

You sound like a fucking poetic psychopath. Who obsesses over someone's eyes so much?

I do, apparently.