Intrepid » n.h. au

Chapter 36

I squint my eyes as I open the door of the bedroom, turning my head to the opposite side of the window. I should watch the weather channel more often, because I rarely ever expect such strong rays of sunshine forcing themselves into my apartment in January, in the middle of winter. Then again I've only ever seen winter in Ireland. This season might be more people-friendly here.

A movement a few feet away from me catches my eye, and it happens to be the one that would end the search party I thought I'd have to throw. Running my hand through my hair for what seems to be the tenth time in ten minutes, I start strolling through the slightly crowded living room of my apartment, until I reach the cold tiles that indicate the entrance to the kitchen, and the oversized tank top-clad figure that seems to be ignoring my presence.

I push my hands into the pockets of my jeans that I could barely get my legs through a few minutes ago, and lean forward to reach her half exposed shoulder with my lips. "Morning," I mumble against her skin, expecting her to jerk away or make some sort of movement that suggests she doesn't want me so close to her. But instead, all I get is a faint sigh, and a slight turn of her head that only allows me to see about a quarter of her face.

"Morning," She mutters back, just as quietly, and after studying her for a few seconds I nod to myself, and take a few steps back, to let her have her space. I've been doing that exact thing for about twenty four hours now, I should know the drill.

"What're you doing?" I ask through a sigh, that gradually turns into a yawn as I scan the small amount of kitchen appliances in the narrow kitchen. I have to admit, the kitchen in the apartment she used to live in was a lot nicer.

"Um, just," Freya looks around, quite uninterested, "Doing the dishes because I ditched them yesterday, and... trying to figure out what to make for lunch."

"Smoking pot while you're at that?" I suggest gingerly, having taken a few steps toward the last counter on the left, where she'd conveniently tried hiding the ashtray which the smoke is coming from, behind a tea pot that unmistakably held green tea inside.

"Well that doesn't sound judgmental or anything," She points out, one of the single-digit times she's tried being funny or sarcastic in about 22 hours. I smile at her retort, picking up the slim brown object.

"Oh yeah, judging people is what I'm all about," I say, more to myself as I bring it to my lips, assuring her that I'm kidding being only one of the reasons for that. I lift my head slightly as I exhale the smoke, and turn to the right so I can lean against the wall, and get a nice view of her half naked body. For someone who's suddenly become keen on pretending I don't exist, she sure chose an interesting outfit to do that in.

A good minute passes before she decides to turn her head in my direction, though she looks back at the plate she's holding when she notices I'm watching her intently. I spot her glancing my way once, or twice, before she hesitantly turns her head to look at me properly, her brows raised and the look in her eyes almost too innocent for someone like her.

"Why do you keep looking at me?" Freya asks slowly, and it almost hurts that I know her usual response to me watching her would be saying 'you know it's creepy to stare at someone like that, right?' or 'is there something on my face or are you just playing a stalker today?'.

I shrug despite my thoughts, "You look nice. I like your hair like that," I point to her bun, that's about an inch from being at the top of her head. She surprises me by smiling, and looking back at the sink again. Really?

"Thanks," Is her only answer to that. I don't know how patient she thinks I am, but I have news for her. I'm not that patient.

"Why do you keep doing that?" I ask, knowing she knows what I'm implying by that - but she still looks at me with slightly widened eyes.