"Hey." He slowly lowered his hand before turning his attention to the girl's reflection in the mirror. "What the hell is your problem? Are you mad?"
"Maybe." Silenced, he saw fit to ask her his question. "What type of amnesia do you have?"
"You're delusional. I've never said that to you." Dismissing the irrelevant comment, he went along with her.
"Well whether you've said it or not, just know that I know about it. Now tell me."
"I don't have anything of the sort."
"Then I guess I'll just have to wait until your other side comes out." He said as he began to pack up the pictures in the book and put it somewhere that he knew she wouldn't remember or bother to look through until he could grab a chair to help him change the hiding spot.
"What is that, anyway?"
"None of your business."
"Fine." There was a small pause as she crossed her arms in frustration. "Why did you just snatch that book away from me, then? Are you hiding something in there?"
"Even if I were withholding a secret from you, you have no right to know. Especially since you don't even know who I am, where you are or how long you've been here." He said as he walked over to his bed.
"Then that should be the perfect excuse for me to get to know who you really are." Closing the nightstand drawer, he took out some of his friends and stared at them in the palm of his hand. "W-what's that?" He didn't answer her. "Sir?" The silence was chilling and she didn't like the feeling one bit. He soon moved from his spot on the bed, passing her by as his feet kissed the stairs. When she had arrived at the kitchen doorway, she halted. "Please.. Don't take those like that.."
His head shot in her direction. Pausing to look at her, he grinned grimly as he shook his attention back into the direction of his cup. Raising the cup up to his lips, he paused once more saying, "I'm not." And downed the drink in one gulp. Setting it back on the counter, he kept his head down as he thought to himself..
She's perfect..
YOU ARE READING
The Quiet Sin
General Fiction"It is not true that people stop pursuing dreams because they grow old, they grow old because they stop pursuing dreams." ~ Gabriel García Márquez Growing old is the mind of the damned, and the damned one is 'me'. The world doesn't want me this way...
