Complicated

Chapter | 8 |

"Did you just say that you like me?" I asked, still unable to believe that these words had come from his mouth. The shock still had me in its grips, but I could feel it's cold iron fingers wearing off, and I was beginning to be able to regain control over myself, my body, and my mind.

"That's what I said," He replied dryly, as if what he just said didn't matter at all, it was nothing to him. "I mean, do you like me too?" He glanced at me.

I wanted to say yes, and spill to him that I've thought about him since the first day I saw him, but the way he was talking to me after he said he liked me; I didn't like. It was so dry and unemotional, as if he'd just said it to get my reaction and he didn't get the one he wanted, so he didn't care. The words were just carelessly thrown out, just to frazzle me, to make me weak at his hands.

Sex, my brain told me, that's all he wants from you girl, don't fall for that. My conscience was my far my best friend, the only thing I can homie stay trust to lead me. My conscience was created by my parent, all their wisdom it knew and preached to me and as always I was glad to hear it. To me, it sounded like a mixture of my mom and dad's voice, like they were both whispering in my ear, and I liked it. It sure made me miss them, but it gave me a short warmth like they were here.

"No." I said trying to make my voice just as dry, but as always whenever I lie my voice squeals a little towards the end. I cleared my throat, trying to make up for the little slip up, but I could tell by the way he looked at me that he caught it.

He smiled and looked back at the road. "You're lying, I can tell you want me." He told me.

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, looking out the window and pointed at a building. "That's the one, pull up here." I told him, but he circled around again ignoring my words.

"Come on, tell me how much you like me, and how much you want me." He teased, a devious smile on his face. "And if you're a good girl maybe I'll-"

I slapped him hard on the face, making him hit the break. The car squealed, almost hitting the back of a black BMW in front of us, the cars behind us screeched too as their drivers hit their brakes to avoid colliding with the cars in front of them or the pedestrians crossing the road.

His hand covered his cheek and he looked at him, his eyes wide with shock. The shock slowly melted away and I found an angry face staring back at him. When he looked angry his eyes darkened and his face became hard, he looked absolutely terrifying this way. Without a look back, I opened the door to the car and got out, walking quickly across the street.

People watched me walk with raised eyebrows and confused expressions. I heard a door slam behind me, and turned my head to see him stalking towards me. I picked up my pace but he caught up in seconds, taking my arm and pulling me into an alley. I screamed and struggled, his grip loosening on my arm a little, then gripped again. His hand flew to my mouth covering it so no screams would be heard.

"You need to chill the fuck out." He said and rolled his eyes. He still looked mad but his features had softened a little bit. "I'm not gonna kill you or anything, I promised myself I wouldn't kill anymore."

My eyes widened some more and I tried to scream through his hand, thrashing my body trying to get him to let go. But instead he pressed his body against mine, and help onto my arms tighter. "It was a joke, I'm kidding." He said and shook his head. "I guess I'm not very good at jokes."

I stopped screamed and looked at him, his features were completely smooth now, any trace of anger removed. He cocked his head to the side, and slowly took his hand off, seeming a bit hesitant. I didn't scream, I didn't bite, I just stared at his beautiful face with confusion. How could've be livid with anger one second and then cracking jokes the next? It seemed utterly inhumane for something like that to happen, was it even possible for that to happen? Maybe he was bipolar or something, even though I've never met anyone like that.