It was kinda awkward on our way downtown. The whole time Brandon was driving, I was too occupied pretending to be occupied.
Yeah. The feeling's just like the first time we met. It was awkward.
It was a quiet drive, and as soon as he parked the car, he killed the engines and sighed. His hands were still on the steering wheel and I was slowly sinking in my seat.
Why do I feel like I'm gonna get scolded?
He turned his head to my direction as I not-so-discreetly watched him from the corner of my eye.
Gulp.
"Look," he started, a bit to my discomfort. "I have no idea why you're mad at me. But whatever it is, I'm sorry. I don't want us to fight, and I hate it when none of us admits why we're mad at each other."
Breathe in. Breathe out. Breathe in. Breathe in... In... In... In...
"Mira?" He called my attention before I could kill myself. I let out a long exhale. Keep calm my poor chest. Keep calm. "Are we good?"
"Yup." I replied, a bit short of breath. Why did just I irregularly control my breath (read: attempt to murder my lungs).
He looked at me unsurely before stepping out of the car without a word. Why am I making such a big deal out of this? He's already apologizing - and he didn't even do anything wrong! I'm just terrible. I clutched my chest before I went out myself, but I was surprised when the door opened by itself.
Dumbfounded, it took me a few seconds to realize that Brandon had opened it for me. I looked at him strangely - he was just offering me a small smile and he was expecting my hand.
I feel like such a lady.
I snorted as he took my hand and pulled me out of the car as if I couldn't do it myself. After he shut the door close and locked the car, he dragged me forward, not letting go of my hand the whole time.
I lowered my head as he just kept leading the way. We passed by a small, familiar restaurant, and before I could recall it, Brandon squeezed my hand and pointed at it.
"Ah, spicy burgers."
Oh that's right. I couldn't help it. I made a sneaky grin and wagged my brows at him. "I beat you in that contest."
He rolled his eyes laughing, pulling my hand again. Where was he taking me?
These days, he's been holding my hand a lot. Honestly, I didn't mind, but why is he doing it? Is it purely out of instinct so I won't get lost or something?
Does he do this with other girls?
"Where are we going?" I asked. It took him a while to reply. I was staring at him the whole time, waiting for an answer. He turned his head and flashed me a sickly cute smile.
"No idea."
"What!" I almost pulled my hand back.
"Relax!" He laughed, tightening his grip on my hand. "We're just taking a walk."
"You took me downtown to take a walk?" I asked, sarcasm dripping from my words like venom. I don't know. I just needed a reason to get mad at him. I want to be mad at him for being too nice to a horrible person like me. I want to stay mad at him even for just a little while.
But I can't.
"Of course," he replied like it was so obvious. "Your fat is piling up in your stomach. You really need to work out."
YOU ARE READING
So On
Romance"You'll like me. That's just how it always ends." He said, the smug look on his face was beaming with confidence. "And if you'll like me first?" I challenged, feeling confident myself. "Unlikely," he chuckled. "But do try." "Oh...
