Bad Boy's Shy Girl (New Version)

[ 47 ] - The Warm Belly

I've decided to erase the entire event that occurred in that awkward elevator ride from my brain forever. I didn't need any reminders of what had happened there, nor did I want to remember them.

And luckily my father was kind enough not to bring it up in casual conversation as we parted ways: him home, and I to the Grey residence.

With food in my system there was a new energy surging through my veins that kept me awake and alert, though the longer I was stuck in this car with the heater on and with slow music lowly coming from the speakers I felt myself beginning to slip. I was getting too comfortable and that brewed sleepiness, which in turn led me to Starbucks; and now here I was, entering the freeway with my iced americano in hand and listening to music that surely would keep me awake for half an hour more until I got to Paul's house.

My eyes drifted to the clock on the dashboard, and upon seeing the bright red numbers I began wondering what Noah was doing.

Wondering how was he doing.

The memory of his devastated expression as I left was seared into my brain, I'd most likely never forget it. However awful this was to hope for, I hoped he was exhausted enough from the crying earlier that he was so deep in sleep right now that not even an earthquake would wake him.

I wouldn't be able function properly if I found out he was waiting up for me.

It didn't matter if he was wasting time cleaning or rearranging things, or just plain sitting on the couch waiting for my return, just the thought of him stressing over something like this was making me antsy and urging to push down on the gas; to press on the gas and race past these cars on the freeway to get to Paul's house was tempting, turning this car around all together and racing back to him was practically already happening if I were to decide to leave it up to instincts.

But I made a promise, and I'm willing to do anything to keep it.

Especially since this promise was for him.

So I chugged down the americano, purposely focusing on the hard cold chill that both electrified and paralyzed me and slightly pushed on the gas. I shut off the heater, putting my windows down barley enough to allow the cold to come in and forced myself to endure this pain until I was finally able to go back to him.

                                              ❀ ❀ ❀       

I might as well have gotten frostbite from my fingertips to my elbows by the time I got to Paul's home, but seeing how I had made it in record time- it was all worth it.

Quickly I shut the car off, grabbing only my phone from my bag and making sure to pull up my hood and cover my hands with the sleeves before getting out the car. It was still pretty dark out, the singing of grasshoppers singing their song in the emptiness of the night and the chilly breeze was somewhat nice. I was already walking up the pathway to the front door when I'd caught the sound of some tool hitting the concrete in the direction of the garage.

For a moment I was stuck: was it Paul out here at this ungodly hour, or a thief raiding his belongings?

I blinked, wondering in the back of my head why my legs were moving toward the sound when I surely didn't feel like playing investigator at this time of night- or at any time, to be honest.

And thankfully I had caught the sound of music coming from back there before I made myself known. Music I'd only recognized from my week of practically bunking with Paul every hour of the day.