Natsby

Chapter Ten

My days and nights slowly had begun to flip, my awaking at dusk and resting at six. I barely noticed how I slept more than I was awake, as my focus came to the story of mine. I never received bills to pay the rent of my home. While I originally thought it as suspicious, I wrote it off as potentially Gatsby paying my bills for me. I reminded myself that I needed to write him a thank you letter. I spent all my evenings at Gatsby's home, up in my little room. Gatsby never came in there, and I felt secluded and at ease within the mansion. The maid, whose name I had learnt was Emily, would bring me a snack and sit quietly in the room as I typed.

This process continued for a few weeks, until one day I entered the room to see that the fireplace was dark and Emily wasn't there. Curtains covered the window, and in my confusion, I walked over to let in some light. I opened it, and as I turned to flip the switch to the desk lamp, I gasped in shock, for I was looking into the eyes of Jay Gatsby. He sat in the loveseat, and his stare sent shivers of fear down my back. "The maid was right," He said lowly, standing up. I trembled, eyes wide, as he came closer. I didn't move. He stopped right in front me and I locked eyes with him. I regretted that choice, because his eyes were stormy with so much emotion, and I couldn't escape. His eyes watered, and he pulled me close. "I missed you so much, Nick. Why couldn't you come back?" I gulped. "You kissed me, Gatsby. You kissed me and called me Daisy."

"I was drunk, we both were. I'm sorry for kissing you," He apologized. I pushed him away. "No Gatsby. You kissing me was not what made me so upset and angry. Despite everything that has happened, despite what she has done," I accentuated 'she.' I looked up at Gatsby before continuing, my eyes brimming with the same tears that threatened to fall on Gatsby's. "Despite all that, you still see her. You still chose to keep her close in your heart. The same woman who held no complaints on running away with her money and leaving you to die. She and Tom are a lot alike, you know, they come in like a whirlwind, destroying everything in their path. And when they are done? They retreat back into their fortune and run away, repeating the cycle to others." Gatsby turned, leaning against the desk. "Don't talk about her like that," He spoke.

"It is the truth Gatsby."

"I said to stop talking about her like that."

"You see her in a light that shines too brightly."

"Shut up, Nick."

"You're clouded."

"Nick. Shut. Up."

"Gatsby, she left you to die at Mr. Wilson's hands."

"I SAID SHUT UP NICK CARRAWAY."

He slammed his fists on the desk, his booming voice having rung sharp and clear. THe room held an utterly tense silence that thickened the air. His anger was something that was to be feared, and yet, I knew I was why he was angry. I glanced at the calender next to the desk his tears were hitting, and it reminded me of something I had almost forgotten.

"Gatsby..."

"What do you want now."

"I just realized today was my birthday."

"Happy birthday."

"Thank you."

The atmosphere stayed tense for a while after that, the light of the moon streaming in. He sighed, and turned back to me. He pushed off the desk. While there was still anger in his face, his eyes screamed with sadness. "Nick, I need you." He stepped closer. "I don't want to lose you again." Step. "Daisy was my first love, but she is nothing when compared to you." Step. He was right in front of me, and I could feel his breath as I looked up slightly to meet his stare. "I don't know what I feel right now, Nick, but I can't see myself without you there with me anymore." I was speechless. It all felt like a love confession.