spitfire

𝐜 𝐡 𝐚 𝐩 𝐭 𝐞 𝐫 𝟏𝟑

This was the most mediocre, boring, absolutely plain man Nova had ever met. It was infuriating.

He could at least have the decency to do something horrible and heartless in an effort to be interesting. But no, not one special thing about him.

She wasn't sure that she had said a full sentence since she sat down. His conversation was completely one-sided. The topic ranges from fishing to what type of beer he likes to the difference between a flathead and a crosshead screwdriver.

There was no doubt in Nova's mind that if there was a screwdriver laying around she wouldn't hesitate to poke it through her own eye to get out of this terrible evening.

It had been an hour, and the food was completely finished. Nova took it upon herself to order whatever she wanted no matter what the price was. So, she got a starter, a main course, an after-dinner salad, and dessert. Because fuck this guy, and his wallet.

She almost breathed a sigh of relief when he stopped talking after an hour and a half of constant blabbering. He sighed and rested his elbows on the table, folding his hands together and putting them under his chin. He gazed at Nova and sighed dreamily. "You know, this is the best date I've ever been on in a while," he said with an ugly smirk on his face. She was about to roll her eyes and tell him to go fuck himself, but she froze when she felt one of his hands on her upper thigh.

The feeling that crawled through her gut was sickening. She felt like her stomach was eating itself from the inside out, and she immediately felt nauseous.

"How about we take this back to my place and continue the fun?" he said in a half-whisper. What. The. Fuck. She immediately reacted, hissing at him "Get your hand off of me before I take this steak knife and cut off your fingers." She said, brandishing a steak knife from off of her plate.

Carson temporarily froze, gulping slightly before he regained his composure. He gave her an annoyed, entitled look and replied "Well, if you didn't want to be felt up, maybe you should've worn something less skimpy. People will think you're a whore if you dress like one."

Well, at least now he's a little more interesting.

She grabbed his wrist that lay on her thigh and twisted it around behind him, standing up and pinning his body and face onto the table in one swift movement. He groaned when she twisted his whole arm, bending down to whisper in his ear.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You looked so fragile and pathetic, I thought you were asking to be bested by a whore in a skimpy dress. My apologies." She said before grabbing her bag and leaving the restaurant. She swears she heard a group of drunk women whoop for her as she walked out, but it might've just been her subconscious.

She wouldn't admit it to anyone if they asked, but she let a few tears slip on the ride home. She didn't want to go on that date. She missed Bobbie and Sam, she missed Richmond, she missed the community center, she missed Spencer.

She carelessly threw her jacket and purse on her couch as she entered her apartment and made a beeline for the bathroom. Nova sighed as she stared at her tired fiery brown eyes. The spark inside them was dull, and she knew exactly why. She was hurt, and exhausted, and fed up. She wasn't used to feeling vulnerable or emotional and being around Spencer made her feel all of these things. She didn't know why.

After her makeup was wiped off and her jewelry was taken out, she sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. Yet, when she tried to fall asleep, she couldn't. Maybe it was because of the loud rain pattering outside her window, beating the walls of her house. Maybe it was because of a strange feeling in her gut that something was going to happen. Maybe it was because-