Overjoyed // {Bastille}

8. Regained Thinking Capacity

Rosemary

I walked back into by bedroom and grabbed some clothing, I was stupid enough to leave the room without it. Dan was still standing there, butt naked and showing off his thin body with only my dress to cover his front.

I blushed and ran out once more into the bathroom. I showered and dressed quickly, retrieving my glasses from my room. I then put on my coat, and shuffled down the stairs to take a painkiller. The hangover was starting to kick in.

"Rose! How did you meet this guy?" Diana squealed with excitement.

"Met him on the train..." I mumbled quickly, taking note of his appearance at the dinner table. I made my way towards the door.

I walked into town, it was a long but great for thinking. I strolled around and picked up some aspirin, and as I paid it hit me like a truck.

The guilt of doing something so petty was so immense, I could barely keep my composure. I had only done this once before, by this I meant sleep with someone I hardly knew.

I was in my second year of uni, and peer pressure set in. I didn't want to, but I slept with the bloke. He made me feel horrible for doing so afterwards. I swore by that I would never do that again, the guilt was too strong for me to bear.

Well there goes that.

I just left my boyfriend two months ago, or rather he left me to go to France for the rest of his life. I didn't want to be drag so I left. Never really thought about him again...

I don't know what to do, Dan seems decent enough to get to know. But part of me seems to not want to affiliate with him anymore. I don't know...

~

The walk home took seconds and I was greeted at the door by my sister. "Just saw you coming up, he's still here!" She whispered excitedly. I made an exaggerated look to calm her down.

I checked my watch, 1:24 p.m. I hesitated as I walked through the door. He was seated at our dining room table, sitting back and looking down at his hands. The guilt came rushing back and I made a pitying face.

"Hello," I said sharply. He turned his head and looked me dead in the eye, sending daggers through me.

"Rose."

"Would you like something to drink?" I knew my sister hadn't been polite enough to offer.

"Oh um...thank you?" He said shyly.

"Water, juice?" I exclaimed as I walked into the kitchen, "Water please!"

I returned and he gave me the weirdest expression.

"Who are you Rosemary and why am I in your home?"

"Good question," I answered, sitting down.

We sat there for an eternity just staring at the wood on the table. I had to ask myself why I was trying so hard. There were so many things I didn't have the answer to. I must add this question to the list.

Diana had gone back upstairs and was now blasting music in her room.

"You're really sloppy when you're drunk," He said quietly, playing with his shoe lace.

"What are you referring to?" I asked curiously.

"I'm referring to everything that happened last night."

I could tell that he didn't want to go further into the subject. To be honest, I didn't want to either.

"Well, tell me about yourself," He said quietly, shifting in his seat to look at me properly. "What more do you need to know?" I asked, annoyed.

"God you're so bloody difficult!"

"Well you're not much of an easy person to be with either!" Anger was approaching my immediate emotions.

"Fine! I'll go first then. I grew up here in London, went to Uni in Leeds. My parents are from South Africa and my favorite colour is blue. I also have a sister." He paused and looked at me. "Now stop being difficult and tell me a piece of your history." He had an annoyed look etched in his downright mean eyes.

I sighed and began to speak. "Spent most of my life here in London, born in Spain. Went to Uni here, studied matters of the brain. Now I am at Cambridge, I have a bugger of a sister and... A brother. My father works at BBC and my mother is a professor. My favorite colour is also blue. Happy?"

"Very," He said, giving me that polite shy smile I had come to associate him with.

"You're not very nice you know," I said harshly, looking straight at him. His expression softened and his face became subtly sad. "I'm sorry, I just don't know how to do this." He looked down at his shoes.

"Don't normally have one night stands?" I asked in a kinder tone. "No," he said, looking up slightly.

I smiled and looked down. "Same."

An awkward silence settled in the room and the next thing I knew, I was being shouted at my mother.