Love At First Fight

Chapter Forty Five

Trevor

Violet and I make our way into my already dark house feeling exhausted from our extremely long day out. We slowly make our way into my living room and I reach over to switch on the light. Miles and Angie are sprawled out on the couch in different directions, surrounded by food and blankets. 

I watch as Violet picks Angie up and carries her down towards their room. In the meantime, I begin cleaning up the mess that Miles and Angie created. Miles doesn't even flinch as I purposefully cause noise, hoping that he'll wake up on his own so that I don't have to do it myself. Alas, Miles seems to be the deepest sleeper that I have ever come across. 

"I wouldn't even bother trying," Violet's voice calls my attention as I stand over Miles' body in the now clean room. "He's basically dead to the world for another six hours. Might as well just let him be."

"Alright," we stand in silence for a moment before I turn around. "I'm gonna grab something to drink and then head to bed."

"Wait," I look back over to see Violet fidgeting on her side of the room. "Shouldn't we talk more about it?"

"More about what?"

"You know, the steroids thing."

"I thought we already talked about it."

"Should we talk about it more though?"

"Why would we do that?"

"I don't know," she says looking everywhere but me. "I feel like we should talk about something. It's been a weird day."

"Let's talk then," I smile slightly at her awkwardness. "C'mon, I'll make some of my famous hot chocolate. Kind of like regular hot chocolate, but with that special Kingston kick in it."

"What's the special kick?" She asks, slowly following behind me as I walk towards the kitchen. "Arrogance with a dash of self-indulgence?"

"Close but not exactly," I grab the milk out of the fridge as she pulls a chair over from the dining room table to sit in. "Honey with a dash of hot sauce."

"Hot sauce?" She sits down in her seat and gives me a weird look. "I think I'll pass. Hot sauce and hot chocolate don't really mix for me."

"I don't know the word for whatever the opposite of an optimist is right now," I say as I open the milk and grab a pot. "I'm sure it'll come to me later. But whatever it is, is exactly what you are... pessimist. I got it, that's exactly what you are. You're pessimistic."

"I'm glad you figured the word out," she says sounding less than enthused. "You know what? I've decided that I don't want to talk anymore. I'm going to sleep, goodnight."

"Geez that was the quickest you've ever gotten tired of having a conversation with me," I set the pot of milk on the stove and glance over at Violet who's staring down at the counter. I tilt my head as my words seem to go through one ear and out the other. I move over and carefully let my fingers brush the side of her hand, causing her head to shoot up in my direction. "You said you wanted to talk. And now you're staring down at the countertop as though it's the most interesting piece of graphite on the planet. What's the problem?"