Allison
The footsteps had defiantly gotten closer, and they soon stopped. I turned away from the closet, and my eyes landed on Shea's figure, standing in the doorframe. He was soaked from head to toe, dripping with water. He looked sober now, and less crazed like yesterday.
He stood there with a careful look, gazing at me from the distance. He brought his hand up and threaded his fingers through his damp hair. "Look". He begins, taking a step into my room. "About last night".
He was now inches away from me, standing directly in my face. I held my hands up, creating a barrier between us. I didn't want any pity excuse. No excuses can take back what he did. He planned it out all along. Get my affection, show his 'faked' love, get me drunk, play me, then once he was done, leave me. He couldn't possibly have a good reason to be sorry.
"No. I already know". I state, not bothering to look him in the eyes. His eyes held a dark mass in them, and every time I'd look at them, I'd see nothing but danger. "You already told me yesterday".
"No I never". Shea retorted. "That was nothing. I was drunk, didn't know what I was doing".
I nodded my head unbelievably. "Oh, so before you got all drunk and tipsy, you just accidentally happened to spike my drink up?"
Shea seemed to have forgotten about that part, because his eyes rolled up, and he looked absentminded. "Ah c'mon! It was a party. I wasn't just going to let you drink water the whole night".
"Maybe I wanted to drink water". I snapped, folding my arms over my chest. "What are you even doing in my house anyways? Get out".
"I came to apologize". He replies. "I tried to on the phone, but all I got out was Cameron telling me to screw off".
The mention of Cameron instinctively made me peer at my closet. He was most likely peeping through the cracks, watching both Shea and I.
"Speaking of Cameron, is he here?" He asks. I quickly turned my head, shaking it no. "No. Why do you care anyways?"
Shea shrugged. "Because he was here earlier".
He took another step towards me, his breath fanning the top of my head.
"Allison! I'm running to the grocery store right now, call me if you need anything". I heard my mother call, from down the stairs. Soon after that, the sound of a door shut. She had just left me in the hands of two boys. One in the closet, and one who was begging for a forgiveness.
"Al". Shea muttered, bringing his hand up to my cheek and cupping the side of my face.
I tried to pull my head back, but he had a steady grasp on the back of my neck. "Don't call me Al". I told him, cringing my face as he called me by my nickname. Only close friends and family called me Al. Not freaks like him.
"Look. I'm sorry". He apologizes again. He peered over at my bedroom window and I could see the reflection of rain falling from in his eyes. "Can I stay here until the rain dies down?" He then asks, as if no wasn't even an option.
My eyebrows knitted together. "No". I exclaim, finally pulling my head from his grip and pushing him away. "Get out of my house. I don't want an apology, nor to see you in my entire life again! So get out".
His blue eyes fumed in anger, and he suddenly looked like he was done with my bull crap.
He throws his hands up in the air, inhaling a huge breath. "Seriously? After I walk through that bloody storm, soaking myself in rain, and knocking on your door, this is how you treat me?!"
