Define: BITTERSWEET (Define #1) ✓

Bittersweet: Five

"And if my wishes came true
It would've been you."
- "the 1," Taylor Swift

~*~

"LET me make it up to you."

My eyebrows furrowed at him as he said that. I stopped typing from my laptop. My back started announcing its aching presence but I tried to be composed. I didn't let my guard down. Not anymore.

"What do you mean?" I inquired. "You don't have to. Just behave yourself then I'm not kicking you out or giving you to your friends."

"No, I mean," he started as he switched his gaze from his phone towards me. "Let me make it up for you. For everything. I feel like you deserve it."

I glared at him, not because I was angry, but because I felt he was saying nonsense again. It didn't matter he was drunk or not, this guy seemed to be saying a lot of stuff he didn't mean. He awkwardly smiled at me, a tinge of fear present within his eyes probably because of my glares. I smoothened my expression and rubbed my temples.

Despite everything that happened, I still didn't want to look intimidating, though I must've looked like I was for the past few hours we've been together. The apartment was heavy in silence aside from his sudden "ouch" and "aw" because of him absentmindedly bumping into stuff. I would only shake my head due to his clumsiness. At last he settled sitting on the sofa scrolling through his phone after getting the wifi password from me. This was the first time we spoke to each other after this morning.

"How are you going to make up for me?" I questioned, half curious and half not wanting to know what was inside his mind. I looked at my laptop and began typing once again. I was about to finish typing one sentence when he spoke again.

"Let's eat lunch outside," he suggested. "It's bright and sunny outside. It feels like the perfect-"

"No," I answered coldly. "I still have a lot to finish. You go out instead."

"What's the point of me making it up to you if I'm just going to go out without you?" he stated. "Come on, you look like you deserve the break. Besides, aren't you hungry?"

I glanced at the time from my laptop. It said 12:15 P.M. As if on cue, my stomach quietly grumbled. I sighed and chugged on the water bottle beside me, making my stomach grumble more.

"We're not going out," I groaned. "Just order something online and have it delivered here. Let's just eat here."

Charles sighed in defeat, "Fine, Ms. I'm-A-Busy-Businesswoman."

I watched him dial a number on his phone. He didn't even ask me what I wanted. I couldn't care less though. If he ended up ordering something I didn't like, I'd just cook some eggs for myself. The thought of food made my mouth water, so I shifted my focus back to my laptop. Instead of typing, my fingers just rested themselves on top of the keyboard.

"Ordered," Charles announced triumphantly. "Now we wait."

I saved the document I was working on and closed it. I also turned off the laptop. My thoughts were all over the place due to the growing hunger inside my stomach. I'd just continue it later after eating. I got up from my seat and walked towards the bedroom.

"How much is it?" I asked as I grabbed my purse from behind the door. "I'll pay for the half."

"Oh no, you won't!" Charles exclaimed. "I'm paying for it. Remember? I'm trying to make it up with you."

I stood underneath the doorframe. He looked dead serious about it. I didn't have the energy to argue with him that moment. I had less than 8 hours of sleep, probably even less than 6 hours, and I was hungry. I couldn't say anything smart to retort back at him. So with my pride getting scraped, I gave up.