#4| SS 140417
#93| TF 250717
WINNER OF BEST TEEN FICTION & BEST OVERALL STORY IN TFA2017
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❝They will screw over anyone and everyone...
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14|
i don't bite
I ANXIOUSLY BITE the corner of my bottom lip, desperately wishing I could just disappear of the surface instead of pathetically standing in the middle of someone else's kitchen without having the opportunity of retreating.
A slight shiver runs down my spine, all caused by being under the scrutiny of Collin's intense gaze, but I still don't dare to look up at him. I know that as soon as I do, he'll most likely swarm me with questions, maybe even order me to leave, and as selfish as that sounds, I'm not ready for that. At least, not right this second.
"One or two pieces?" I cut my eyes to him at the sound of his voice, almost doing a double over when the question in my mind registers.
"Huh?"
"Toast," he repeats again, this time holding a piece of whole wheat bread between his fingers. "You're not used to eating breakfast?"
I shake my head, somehow managing to find my voice again. "No . . . I--I am. I just . . . "
"Orange juice?" He cuts me off before I get to finish my sentence and even though I'd have considered it rude any other time, I'm kind of glad he cut me off now, since I'm not that sure I'd be capable of finishing coherently.
"Uh, no. Actually. I'm not a big fan of that one," I remark truthfully after clearing my throat, expecting him to give me a weird stare that I've grown accustomed to over the past few years. I really don't get why people tend to be so taken aback by the fact that I don't like orange juice. It's not like I don't like oranges, because I do. I just don't like the taste of orange juice in particular, however weird that may sound. Juice and fruit aren't the same thing. Not to me, at least.
Collin doesn't seem to care about my distaste though, so I try to make the already awkward as heck situation at least bearable for both of us. I'm still cautious, considering his little outburst that happened only short minutes ago, but I get a feeling he doesn't really plan on going back there.
Some things are just better swept under the rug, no matter how much they need to be discussed.
After few minutes of clattering around, he turns, carrying two plates and a pan, alongside with a pocket of toast and a box of juice clasped between his elbow and the side of his body. He walks swiftly to the table and I can't help but be slightly amused by his skills as he sets it down without dropping a single thing. I'm pretty sure half of the stack would be scattered all across the ground already if it was me.
"I don't bite, you know." He says when he sees I'm not making any move to join him at the table.
"I know." I tell him as I pull the chair across from him from under the table, refraining from rolling my eyes. He may not bite but that doesn't mean I'm gonna be any less cautious.
