Finally Falling

22: Vixer's got it, Owen's

"You know what, I know which historical figure was like you."

"Enlighten me."

"Hitler."

"What the hell?"

We were in Brandon's room working on our assignment. The project was about getting to know each other really well and then figuring out which historical figure each other was most like. We had to find out every tiny detail about our partner, even if it wasn't relevant to the task. I had decided that Brandon was a lot like Hitler. He was still making up his mind about me.

We were constantly bickering as neither one of us was willing to share anything about us. It had been an hour since I arrived and so far the only thing Brandon had told me was that he was allergic to mushrooms and that he despised watching chick flicks. I could relate to the chick flick part. They were all so happy and romantic. But I guess some part of me hoped that I would meet a prince then marry him and live happily ever after in a marvellous castle. Hey, a girl can dream.

"What's your favourite dish?" I asked him. He looked at me and then went back to eating his chips.

"Alright, that's it. I've officially had enough. I'm trying to be nice and your not cooperating. If you haven't noticed Brandon, I don't like you very much either. I am not taking any of your bullshit. Stop being an ass and suck up the fact that we have to work together!"

"Why did you have the panic attack?" He asked me completely out of the blue.

My heart sank into my stomach. "Wh-what?"

"You heard me."

"I don't know."

"Stop thinking your a great liar. You most definitely are not. Now tell me why you had a panic attack."

"That is completely irrelevant to what we are doing right now."

"No,no its not. We have to find out as much as we can about our partner and it doesn't matter what kind of questions they are."

"Fine then, if I tell you about me then you have to tell me about you."

"Just hurry this damn thing up."

"I'm asking first. Why do your dad and you not get along?"

"Next question." The way he said it was frightening. His voice sounded so cold. Like it could slit through anything and anyone. His jaw was clenched and he looked like he had swallowed a bowl full of anger and was ready to puke it out at any moment.

"What makes you angry?"

"People trying to pry into my personal life. Why did you have a panic attack?"

"Next question."

"Fine. We will make a deal that we will both end up probably regretting. We don't get to pass on questions."

"Then tell me why you and your dad don't get along very much."

He blinked and his eyes setters on the floor. He seemed to have a hard times telling me. I was hoping that he would continue his life story at a slow pace so I wouldn't have to tell mine. He didn't need to know mine. He would just end up getting in trouble. I am the definition of trouble. I attract trouble. Without the intention of doing so of course. But no matter how hard I try, trouble seems to find me.

"It's complicated. Me and him. We go way back. When everything wasn't serious and tense."

"Tell me about that time," I said it softly. His eyes flickered to mine and then settled back down on the floor. I could tell he was uncomfortable. He seemed like he needed to open up to someone about his feelings. He had probably kept them all bottled up assuming that no one would be interested or understand. I could see the desperation in his eyes, he wanted to tell me. He wanted to tell me all about it. He didn't want to keep it all bottled up. But he didn't know if he could trust me or not. Fair enough. I still wasn't certain in trusting him about anything. But something about him just gave you the vibe that he wouldn't judge you but instead understand you.

I didn't know what to think. I wasn't going to force him into telling me anything, the same way I hoped he wouldn't force me. I wanted him to know that I could keep a secret, that I was a loyal companion and that I understood why he was reluctant about telling anyone about himself.

After what seemed like an eternity, he finally looked up at me with his piercing bluish green eyes. He was analysing me. He was contemplating on whether he could trust me or not. I wanted to yell at him that yes he could trust me. I wanted to assure him that I knew exactly what it feels like to think that your alone and you have no one. But I refrained from doing so.

"Whatever shit I tell you, stays with you. If anybody else finds out about this, I will feed you to wild dogs and watch them cut you up into tiny pieces. If you say anything about this to anyone, the fake dating deal will be off and I will make your life hell." He was about to start speaking when he stopped himself. "No. Forget I said anything. I just make no sense right now. Forget it."

"Brandon, tell me. I won't judge you and I will certainly not go around with a sign saying everything that you told me. You can't bottle up your feelings, it will eventually shatter you and diminish any feeling of happiness inside you. I know we both don't hate each other and we don't exactly consider each other friends, but I don't care. I'll be here for you if you need me. I'll be here for you no matter how much of an ass hat you are, no matter how much of a brat you are, I'll be here to help you."

His tense shoulders relaxed slightly. He was still contemplating it. "Remember what I said Vixer."

"Got it, Owen's."

And so here we were, in Brandon's bedroom talking about him. He was opening up to me at this exact moment.

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