Trust Falls

The Rhino's Beeswax

A/N: "Heaven lies under my mother's feet..." : The belief that if you listen to your parents (namely, your mother in this case), it's the doorway to Heaven. 

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"Your eyes are red. Were you crying?"

I looked up at Yousuf and frowned. "No. I just didn't get enough sleep last night."

He gave me a long look before shrugging. "Should've slept earlier, then."

I made a face at him and crossed my arms. "Don't tell me what to do."

He swung himself into the theater chair beside mine and twisted around, his elbows on the armrest behind him. "So, what ever happened to your vow to never come here even if it killed you?"

"Those aren't my words. I said I wouldn't help you. Didn't say anything about dying." I thought about it. "Unless I was talking about you." I looked at him. "Don't put words in my mouth."

"Fine, maybe that wasn't exactly what you said. But still. Why are you here?"

"I thought you wanted me to come."
"I do...er..." He shook his head. "I wanted you to be the stage manager. For the play." He cleared his throat and reached out a arm to fiddle with the faded red fabric on the seat in front of him.

I sighed. "As much as I didn't want to, my mother said I needed something to do, and I'm not one to disobey my elders."

He raised his eyebrows and tilted his chin downwards. "You listen to your elders? You're always telling me to go die, and I'm older than you."

I shook my head. "Only by six months. You don't count. Plus, Heaven lies under my mother's feet...not yours."

He pouted. "I don't count... I don't know how I feel about that."

"Terrible. I'm trying to gut you from the inside out."

"Why do you hate me so, little Fruit Cup?" He squeezed his eyes shut and looked away. Quite the Drama King we have here.

"Stop being so dramatic."

"We're in a theater."

"Who cares? Tone it down. You don't feel things that deeply."

"Yes I do. How do you know, huh? And you never answered my question."
I made a face. "You called me a fruitcup. I ain't answering anything."

"I like fruit cups." He grinned.

"Well, in that case, I should call you a pile of bull. I hate bull."

"Tch. Iqra. You're not answering me."

I shrugged. "It's not my fault you don't remember yourself from four years ago."

"What am I forgetting? I was..." He ticked off the points on his fingers. "Amazing, intelligent, hot, funny, hot, nice, hot..."

I choked on air. Yeah right. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Something's wrong with you."

       Someone clapped their hands and called for everyone to come towards the stage. Yousuf glanced at them and started getting up from his seat. He looked at me and leaned closer. "And I'm going to figure out what that thing is."
I narrowed my eyes. "What thing. Your face? Because that's the only thing wrong here."
His eyelids closed just a fraction as he straightened. "Sure...whatever you say."

I stood up and walked towards the front, pushing him out of my way. Frikkin' rhinoceros. Couldn't mind his own beeswax.

He laughed behind me. "Rhinoceroses don't have beeswax!"