when heaven and hell meet

twenty four

"That's good," she commended. "I don't think you know much about me for us to be considered "friends" anyway."

I winced slightly at her words and lifted my head from my reclined seat to look at her.

"I know plenty about you," I scoffed.

She mirrored my movements and looked at me back. "Like what?"

"I know you hate eggs."

"Okay, but that's nothing."

Rolling her eyes she plopped her head back down and crossed her arms to her chest. Her legs stretched out against the floor of the car as she sighed.

"I know you love sunsets and the color orange. You like the way the sky changes colors. It fascinates you."

She snapped her head back towards me and her brows furrowed with curiosity.

"How did you-"

"I know you hate being ignored," I continued. "You like attention, but you don't like being the center of it."

She shook her head and I saw a small smile against her lips. Her eyes darted to my hand that rested on the middle divider between us. Mindlessly she touched my hand with her finger and traced around my gold rings.

I tried to remain composed. It seemed like the slightest touch from her lately set me off. I had to be more careful with her.

She needs to be more careful with me.

"Well," I asked. "What do you know about me?"

She smiled at me and continued to play with the rings on my finger. She was humming softly to the tune of the music. Although the radio volume was low, the faint instrumentals could be heard throughout the car.

"I know you like to feel wanted," she said. "You crave to be included and well-liked."

Before I could reply she continued, "You hate change and you love stability. You hate when people leave your life so you make meaningless relationships with people to avoid getting hurt."

My eyes widened and I shook my head at her statements. I didn't want to believe them but deep down I knew they were true.

"That doesn't make sense though," I scoffed. "If I hated when people leave me, why would I make meaningless relationships with people?"

She slipped a ring off my finger and placed it in her hand. She admired how the gold shined in the moonlight and continued to hum.

"It's simple," she explained. "You don't allow yourself to get too close to people. Vulnerability freaks you out. The more someone knows about you, the harder it'll be for you when they finally leave you. Or at least you think they will because of your dad and whatnot."

I blinked at her and a smug smile played onto my lips. I brought my hands together and gave her a torturous slow clap.

"Wow," I clapped. "The devil's daughter is also a secret therapist. Care to analyze me more, Dr. Black?"

She laughed and playfully pushed my arm.
"Shut up Saint," she said. "You're just not as hard to read as you think you are. You're a completely open book."

I didn't feel offended too much. I secretly liked how she knew so much about me. Even if it wasn't all good.

"Continue Dr. Black, I want to know more," I teased.

She shrugged and reclined her seat up the forehead to look at me. Her hand trailed over my mine and I felt my body tense up. She slipped my ring off her finger and placed it back onto mine.