𝑰𝑵𝑲 • 𝑻𝒆𝒘𝒌𝒆𝒔𝒃𝒖𝒓𝒚 / 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒅𝒈𝒆

Cornered

She kept her eyes on him, his chest puffed and chin up, trying to maintain the serious air and hide the smugness he felt from the success of his plan. She clenched her jaw and sucked her teeth, unimpressed and annoyed by his scheme.

 Tewkesbury slowly treaded over to his queen sized bed, letting the edge of its frame, covered in white, fluffed up silk sheets, hit the backs of his knees and bring him down to sit. He turned to face Florence, who was still standing by his desk, using the remaining heat that radiated off of the teapot to warm her icy hands.

He patted the spot beside him, inviting her to sit on his bed. "Absolutely not." She gave him one last look before pushing off the desk and making her way over to the door. As she walked past him, she could see his eyes follow her making her eyebrows furrow slightly, surprised he wasn't trying to stop her from leaving in some way.

Reaching her hand out towards the door handle she twisted it. Nothing happened. She tried it again, pushing harder this time. Maybe it was stuck, or jammed, or maybe she was twisting it the wrong way. She pushed and pushed, leaning up against the door, hoping that it would just shift slightly.

It was only when she heard him chuckle from behind her that she stopped, freezing in place and slowly turning around to the sound of his low laughter. There he sat, wearing a cheeky grin, and the Key to his room, hanging from a braided string wrapped around his index finger, dangling in front of his pleased face.

He jingled it around once or twice, baiting her in. It worked of course. She marched towards him, the pride oozing off of her, not willing to be bested by the boy. She faced him, standing in between his legs where he sat on his bed, and leant towards him clumsily, reaching for the key. Every time her arm stretched forwards, he would lean further back, keeping the prize just out of her grasp. Florence was getting more and more frustrated with each passing moment, and in a final effort, she lunged towards him, knocking back onto the mattress. She landed on top of him, her lean legs either side of his waist, straddling him as she grabbed the key from his finger. She sat up, lifting the key to her face and smiling at it triumphantly, oblivious to what the boy beneath her was planning in the moment.

Before she could move herself from him and free herself from his room, he placed his hands on her hips, gripping them tightly as he rolled them over. In this new position, Florence found herself abashed, unable to remove her gaze from his face, or focus on anything other than his warm hands on her hips. Tewkesbury noticed this and took the opportunity to snatch back the key, this time placing it in his pants pocket, somewhere he new she did not dare to take it from.

"You wanted to talk, let's talk." She stated dryly, pushing him off of her and sitting crosslegged on his bed to face him where he sat beside her in the same position. "What is it you wanted to say T?" He winced at the use of his once endearing pet name in such an aggressive sentence.

"What happened Flo? When I left. Did something happen while I was gone? He questioned, the worry straining his voice as he spoke quietly, afraid to scare her off, or provoke her temper. "A lot happened, but nothing that should be of any importance to you." She spat, the venom lacing her words, ripping into his nerves and tearing away at his heart. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorr-" She cut him off.

"You're sorry." She breathed out in disbelief. "You leave for months, not a single clue as to where you might've gone, no messages, no letters, no nothing. You left me here, and after what you- wha- what we did. You can't undo that T, was it so horrible for you that you had to leave? Run as far away from me as possible?" Her words rushed out of her like a river, releasing the thoughts she had pent up inside since the day he left. It felt good to get it off her chest, but the uneasy churning in her gut quickly took its place as she tentatively waited for him to speak. Say something, anything at all.

"Florence I- I had to go. I had to get away from here, you have to understand that. But what happened, it-"

"It doesn't matter." She spoke for him.

"No I-"

"Its not important, I understand." She finished, ending the conversation and shutting him up in the process. He growled in frustration, punching the bed frame release some tension, causing Florence to jump slightly. He looked at his fist and then back up at her.

"You aren't letting me talk! Do you even know how conversations work!? The other person is supposed to speak as well!" He shouted at her, the both of them breathing heavily, him in anger, and her, in fear. Her eyes glazed over, shocked by the sheer volume of his outburst. It pained him to know that he had frightened her, and that he was the reason for her teary eyes.

"Flo I-"

"I agree we need to talk, but not like this. Not in here and not at this time." She said calmly, regaining her composure and getting a hold of the situation. She stood up and headed back over towards the desk. "I must ask that you unlock the door, and allow me to leave." She didn't hear any movement. "Please." She pleaded, her voice cracking and a single tear rolling down her cheek as she squeezed her eyes shut.

 She heard him stand up and make his way to the door, quickly placing the untouched beverage back onto the tray and then picking it up. Florence sped over to the door being held open for her by the boy who wanted nothing more than for her to stay. "Goodnight my lord." Her voice empty, returning to the shell of what is had been just moment ago, full of emotion, passion.

 He closed the door behind him once she had left, rubbing his face with both his hands in utter exhaustion. How difficult can such a small person be. He flopped onto his bed, face first into a pillow, and let it all out in the form of a deep and muffled scream.