He's Not My Type (Hiatus)

Too Awkward

A/N: So, what's up?! I'm so excited to be writing, and I'm really glad for all of the support thus far. As always feel free to comment and VOTE to show some love for the author.

Just a few simple words and some criticism go a long way to helping me improve this work just for you guys!

Art Found Here: http://m.favim.com/user/KSENIA_L/

*EDIT* I switched up a few things, and added some more description. I apologize for anyone who read it when it was first published. I really hate half-assing my work. From now on, I really would like to spend more time on the development of the plot, rather than getting chapters out quickly. Thanks for being patient with me, I really appreciate it! ;)

My heart pounded heavily within my chest, as I was desperately grinding the pedals on my worn-out bike that I've had for years. I felt the awful sensation of my shirt clinging to my skin solely through the sweat emitting from my body.  Everything about the current situation tugged at the very loose roots of my crumpling sanity. How is it possible that I could already be hurting someone based on my stupidty!? I couldn't help but wonder if this all could have been prevented with a few reassuring words, or a quick call. I must have looked like a mad woman, as I raced across the streets not minding on coming traffic or stop lights with my hair let loose, completely drenched in my own perspiration, while wearing fuzzy slippers, mismatched socks, and an old band T-shirt that was a bit too small. In all honesty, I wasn't worried about the way I was dressed, or the disapproving glares from strangers, as they had been impatiently waiting in the morning traffic. No, I was entirely captivated in the well-being of a man I hardly knew.

Without stopping to catch my breath, I ran to the front door of the all too familiar house, and waited impatiently for it to open. After a few minutes passed, there was no reply. Again, I rung the door bell. No answer. I couldn't help but feel more and more anxious, as horrid scenarios picked at the stability of my mind. Was it so bad that he had gotten hospitalized? Fuck. I can't take this anymore! 

Just as I was about to turn around and delve into a fit of unease, I took the precaution of trying the door knob myself. It was unlocked. Don't do it Eliza, you know this is wrong! How could I possibly enter someone's home so casually without any permission. Getting caught opening the wrong room, and breaking into someone's home are two very different levels of crazy, and I wasn't sure that it was a boundary I was willing to cross over a subtle suspicion...or was I? But then again, this was an emergency, and he had been hurt, because of my own selfish pettiness. Maybe it wasn't so bad in this type of situation? Ignoring any form of manners or simply put, common sense, I steadily complied to the growing pandemonium escaping my chest. 

Entering the home, I immediately became weary of the unwavering silence. It was much different from the lively and warm feelings that I had previously received from the Bramwell family. There was a lingering coldness in the air and a striking loneliness that crept my very being. Blinded by the desperation of my flickering plight, I hesitantly approached the stairway to Arian's bedroom, despite my instincts telling me otherwise. Once warily opening the door, I was suddenly submerged in utter shock, as the scene unraveled before my shaking eyes.

"Liz? What are you doing here?!" said an astonished Arian, as he covered his body with blankets. Like an innocent child, he was laying on his bed, comfortably, while sucking on a lollipop. He was completely unscathed, except for a few small scratches on his left arm. Fuck you.

I couldn't help but let my bottled emotions freely absolve in all its ugliness. Tears protruded from squinted eyes, and I couldn't help but to rush over to Arian. To be honest, I couldn't exactly pinpoint my distress, as the meaning to all of my drastic reasoning weren't exactly clear.  I smiled at the dumbfounded expression displayed across his usually stoic  face. He must think that I'm some insane lunatic. For some reason, I was extremely bothered by that statement, and fell sheepishly to the floor next to his bed.