Page 4
Story: Obsessed-
“Let’s try it out,” I say, jumping down on the bed and it lets out such a whine under my weight that Amber puts a hand in front of her mouth, her eyes widening in distress.
“It’s pretty old, forgot to tell you that. Maybe you won’t be able to sleep at night?”
I shrug, putting my arms under my head. “The sound doesn’t bother me. As long as it doesn’t bother you?”Her hand traces the wall. “Won’t be able to hear anything. The basement is sound isolated.”
My brows rise. “Sound isolated?”
“Mhm,” she murmurs, shooting me a curious glance, “you’re from Colorado aren’t you?”
Tensing, I just nod because I don’t feel good lying to her. I’m not from Colorado, I’m from here and I gave up my apartment in the city to move in with her. The thing about me needing a place to stay because I found a new job, was something I made up to seem less suspicious.
“You don’t have an accent,” she continues and I clear my throat.
“My parents were from Chicago,” I answer because that’s not a lie at least.
Her eyes go to mine in pity. “Were?”
“Car accident. Old, wooden bridge. River. They didn’t survive.”
But I did. I was there with them, held my mother’s hand until the pain in my lungs from holding my breath under water, got too great and I managed to wiggle free and swim up to the surface. They didn’t.
I was eleven at the time and lived on my own ever since. No relatives, nothing. Just me in the basement of our old house, living on scraps from the neighbors thrown away food like a rat.“I’m so sorry,” Amber murmurs, that secret glimmer in her eyesgetting replaced by compassion, “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I don’t mind it when you ask,” I rasp and her eyes arrest on mine, something passing between us that makes her all jittery.
“I should let you get settled. When you’re done, maybe you could come up and we’ll have lunch...or well, maybe that’s brunch.” Taking a deep breath, I watch her cheeks turn pink and then she turns around. “See you soon.” Smile. Dimple. “Roomie...”
Rising in bed, my fists tighten and I almost reach out for her but she’s already gone. My heart starts pumping and I rub a hand over my face. Relax. She’s still here. Just upstairs and within my reach.
Closer than she’s ever been.
****
She never wears her hair up, always lets it coil in thick, brown ringlets between her shoulder blades. She always wears it down, like she doesn’t want me to get to her neck. I stalk over to her as she has her back turned to me.My footsteps are soundless and she doesn’t notice me, humming a song to herself that for some reason makes me feel drowsy, like I’m underwater with her.
She jerks, and I realize that I’m brushing against her and she turns around with a surprised look on her face, before her eyes go hooded, her gaze going down to my mouth.
“Ah...didn’t see you there. “ She bites her lip and her mouth is neither too big nor too small. Perfect. “You sure unpacked fast.”
That’s because I hurried, not wanting to waste any time with her. This is my first time being this close, my whole body spattering with animated energy but I try to hide it, shoving my hands in my pockets and casually lean back.
“Didn’t bring much,” I answer. “You said it yourself.”
“Think I did.” Her eyes dart and she looks like she has something she’s hesitant to say on her tongue. “Were you smelling my hair?”
Her voice is breathy, like the thought of me doing something like that excites her. It excites me too.
“No,” I answer, giving her a relaxed, charming smile. But I was. And she smells like sugar and cinnamon and once she’s allowed me in, I’ll bury my whole face in her.“Of course,” she shakes her head as if she’s being silly, “I don’t even know why I said that.” Walking around the kitchen island, she hands me a plate. “You like vego tacos, right?”
I’ve never had them before. “Love them.”
Smiling, she hands me my utensils and shoves forth a couple of small bowls. “All I had was vegetables. I need to go and tell my manager to go to the grocery store.” She glances at me. “She spoils me like that, because usually I’m too busy to do it myself.”
Biting into the food, I reply, “I’ll do it for you if you want.”
She bites into her food too, her bites so small it makes me want to feed her myself to make sure she’s satiated. “That’s okay. Gina’s got it covered.”
“Maybe her services aren’t needed, now that you have me.” I say it casually. Suggestively and she stops chewing, glancing at me.
“It’s pretty old, forgot to tell you that. Maybe you won’t be able to sleep at night?”
I shrug, putting my arms under my head. “The sound doesn’t bother me. As long as it doesn’t bother you?”Her hand traces the wall. “Won’t be able to hear anything. The basement is sound isolated.”
My brows rise. “Sound isolated?”
“Mhm,” she murmurs, shooting me a curious glance, “you’re from Colorado aren’t you?”
Tensing, I just nod because I don’t feel good lying to her. I’m not from Colorado, I’m from here and I gave up my apartment in the city to move in with her. The thing about me needing a place to stay because I found a new job, was something I made up to seem less suspicious.
“You don’t have an accent,” she continues and I clear my throat.
“My parents were from Chicago,” I answer because that’s not a lie at least.
Her eyes go to mine in pity. “Were?”
“Car accident. Old, wooden bridge. River. They didn’t survive.”
But I did. I was there with them, held my mother’s hand until the pain in my lungs from holding my breath under water, got too great and I managed to wiggle free and swim up to the surface. They didn’t.
I was eleven at the time and lived on my own ever since. No relatives, nothing. Just me in the basement of our old house, living on scraps from the neighbors thrown away food like a rat.“I’m so sorry,” Amber murmurs, that secret glimmer in her eyesgetting replaced by compassion, “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I don’t mind it when you ask,” I rasp and her eyes arrest on mine, something passing between us that makes her all jittery.
“I should let you get settled. When you’re done, maybe you could come up and we’ll have lunch...or well, maybe that’s brunch.” Taking a deep breath, I watch her cheeks turn pink and then she turns around. “See you soon.” Smile. Dimple. “Roomie...”
Rising in bed, my fists tighten and I almost reach out for her but she’s already gone. My heart starts pumping and I rub a hand over my face. Relax. She’s still here. Just upstairs and within my reach.
Closer than she’s ever been.
****
She never wears her hair up, always lets it coil in thick, brown ringlets between her shoulder blades. She always wears it down, like she doesn’t want me to get to her neck. I stalk over to her as she has her back turned to me.My footsteps are soundless and she doesn’t notice me, humming a song to herself that for some reason makes me feel drowsy, like I’m underwater with her.
She jerks, and I realize that I’m brushing against her and she turns around with a surprised look on her face, before her eyes go hooded, her gaze going down to my mouth.
“Ah...didn’t see you there. “ She bites her lip and her mouth is neither too big nor too small. Perfect. “You sure unpacked fast.”
That’s because I hurried, not wanting to waste any time with her. This is my first time being this close, my whole body spattering with animated energy but I try to hide it, shoving my hands in my pockets and casually lean back.
“Didn’t bring much,” I answer. “You said it yourself.”
“Think I did.” Her eyes dart and she looks like she has something she’s hesitant to say on her tongue. “Were you smelling my hair?”
Her voice is breathy, like the thought of me doing something like that excites her. It excites me too.
“No,” I answer, giving her a relaxed, charming smile. But I was. And she smells like sugar and cinnamon and once she’s allowed me in, I’ll bury my whole face in her.“Of course,” she shakes her head as if she’s being silly, “I don’t even know why I said that.” Walking around the kitchen island, she hands me a plate. “You like vego tacos, right?”
I’ve never had them before. “Love them.”
Smiling, she hands me my utensils and shoves forth a couple of small bowls. “All I had was vegetables. I need to go and tell my manager to go to the grocery store.” She glances at me. “She spoils me like that, because usually I’m too busy to do it myself.”
Biting into the food, I reply, “I’ll do it for you if you want.”
She bites into her food too, her bites so small it makes me want to feed her myself to make sure she’s satiated. “That’s okay. Gina’s got it covered.”
“Maybe her services aren’t needed, now that you have me.” I say it casually. Suggestively and she stops chewing, glancing at me.