The New Babysitter | [In Process]

Chapter 9: Goodnight

Both our eyes shot open at the three, loud knocks on the heavy door. His hand was on my jaw, and the other on the couch so he could hover above me. My legs were spread for him to lay in between them. I had a purple hickey on the left side of my neck and my lips were still parted.

We both looked at the door for a couple of seconds, dreading its sudden interruption. Whoever it was on the other side of the door, I already hated. To the depths of hell, I hated them. I want that moment so badly and they just made it disappear into thin air, returning only as a memory.

He turned his head to look at me, but I still had mine on the door. I didn't want to look at him now. I thought that he might realise that he didn't mean it, that he was just drunk and that he'd just jerk back and go wash his teeth or whatever.

I couldn't stare forever, so I finally gave in and looked at him. The depths of his eyes, the colour, the highlighted streaks, the shine from the very small lamp behind me, it all stared at me and I stared right back.

We stayed like that for a moment. A few seconds passed and he suddenly brought his face closer to mine, going in for another kiss, trying to recover the moment back.

I tilted my head so we could access each other's lips better, and, with both our lips parted, we moved in closer.

But then the knocks began again, and we both stopped in the second. We didn't continue kissing, and I felt annoyed.

He bit his lip and shook his head in disbelief. I threw my head against the arm of the couch and rolled my eyes to the back of my head in annoyance. The volume of hatred I had for the person on the other side of the door was unreal.

There was a rustle of movement as he proceeded to get up from me, stumble through the blanket that was now thrown onto the floor and then stood in front of the door.

His hand went to meet the doorknob, but I saw that he hesitated. He was afraid of what was awaiting him on the other side. What if Erica turned up? Or someone with terrible news?

Then he swung the door open, and all I saw was his surprised expression, with his eyes wide. I got up to try and see what he was staring at but I couldn't see as the door was blocking my view.
Then his eyes weren't as wide, and his expression went back to a little shocked, yet not normal.

'I've..' I head a man's voice. I knew it wasn't Michael because it was a little deeper and raspy, but it didn't sound cheery. The sentence broke off and I heard the man cough to sharpen his voice. I braced myself and dug my nails into the warm and comfortable fabric beneath me.

'I've got bad news.'

I wasn't sure if I were ready to hear it. What could have possible gone wrong now? Would we have to rush into the hospital again?

'There was a package that was meant to be delivered to your house.'

What? I relaxed a little, and my fingers weren't white from gripping the couch anymore, but I was so much more confused.

'And I'm afraid there was a problem. We have no sign of it being delivered anywhere. We're wondering if you have it yet?' asked the man, and I suddenly understood.

It was the fucking mailman. My whole body collapsed on the sofa. I felt a little sorry for him, he was forced to come here at this time, in the dark to just ask about some silly package. Yet I still hated him and his company for interrupting what I lusted over for so long.

Michael began shaking his head and placed his thumb and pointer finger on the brim of his nose. 'No, no we didn't get anything-'

'I'm sorry did I wake you up?' the mailman interrupted again. He's good at that isn't he?