I Need You Now

Strange

 Strange

I sighed, leaning my head back. I could feel the warmth of Eli's shoulder behind me and I smiled blissfully. We were sat on the windowsill of the empty conference room, me slung across his lap and his fingers fiddling with the ends of my long hair, sending shivers fizzing round my stomach. I felt his fingers brush my hair off my face, tracing the curve of my eyebrow slowly and I swear I felt my heart stop. I blinked hard and fought back a blush.

“Who told you that you could touch my hair?” I demanded, but my voice trembled very slightly.  He chuckled and swiped at it again, ignoring me.

"But it’s so shiny…" he teased and his smile was warm. My stomach trembled again and I poked my tongue out at him flirtatiously, trying not to let my face give away the butterflies that were swooping through my stomach.

“I’m glad you made it here,” Eli’s tone was serious for a moment before he added “else who would've let me play with their hair?” he arched an eyebrow and I smiled, giggling quietly. “Seriously though, I’m glad you’re ok.”

“So am I.”

“You properly recovered yet?”

I loved how he said yet, like he knew I was going to be fine, like he believed I could do it. I didn’t hear things like that very often.

“Just a few bruises,” I nodded, “other than that I’m ok.”

“Really?” Eli sounded dubious.

I frowned and shook my head, trying to steer us away from the topic of my well-being. “Can we not talk about this please?”

“Yeah sure.” He agreed, backing off and changing the subject; "So, how's Becca?" he asked. My smile fell. Becca. I cursed my sister under my breath and Eli frowned, confused. "Is she ok?" he asked and I nodded, hating how she was the first subject he jumped to. Perspective. I told myself. You're sitting on his lap. Not her.

Doesn't mean a thing. Another voice chipped in. Damn these touchy-feely guys. Damn them all.

"She's fine." I didn't want to talk about her.

"Are you ok?" he said and I shrugged. I wanted to tell him, to have someone to tell me what I wanted to hear, but I knew that I'd sound selfish and immature. "What’s up?" he prompted, using his fingertips to prop my chin up. I couldn't not tell him.

"You and your sister are close, right?" he nodded, so I went on. "Were you always like that?"

"Pretty much." Ah, no empathy there then.

"Not me. We're close, don't get me wrong. But she's just so...." I trailed off and he let me have time to think. "Twee." I finished and he snorted. "I'm serious." I told him. "Sometimes she's so pious I want to scream. She acts like my mother."

"And that's what's bugging you?" he sounded disbelieving. I admit it sounded childish. I shook my head.

"I just....... I love her you know, she's my sister. But that doesn't mean I like her all the time. She irritates me to hell and back - she's bossy and over-sensitive, and she shoves her opinions in your face. I could choke on it. And... I'm sick of her being seen as the good one, the normal one, you know?? It makes me stand out even more, makes me seem even more strange-”

“Special.” he interjected, winking at me and I chuckled.

“Ok, special.” I smiled. “I just feel like when I’m there people feel uncomfortable, like they’d much rather be around Becca than be around me, and they don’t even know me. Then they wonder why I don’t make friends easily." I laughed dryly. “I just feel like I’m too different.” He seemed to get that and I felt his hand rest over mine. "People think I’m jealous, or being difficult, overdramatic or something, but I can't help but feel like we’re compared too much sometimes. I hate it.” I could feel him staring at me and I looked up to meet his gaze. He stared at me for a long moment as if studying me.