If I Stay✔️

64

"Are you blind or just rude?" I ask, sincerely. She has to be blind, right?

Her face scrunches, her eyebrows pulling together causing the lines on her forehead to become more visible, making her appear much older than she is. She's confused, clearly. She rolls her tongue against her cheek as she finally grasps hold of my question. Her cheeks flush, whether in anger or embarrassment, I'm not too sure.

She kisses her teeth and blinks up at me.
"Excuse me?"

My smirk widens into a full fledged grin. "That's what you should've said to start us off." I sigh, dreamily. I move to the left, effectively clearing space for her to continue walking.

"You're an asshole." She glares at me, harshly bumping her shoulder against mine as she pushes past me.

"Noted." I salute her, feeling very satisfied as she flips me off.

Chuckling under my breath, I continue on my way towards Charlie's office. At least, I think this is the way to Charlie's office. There's no signs in the corridor, nothing to suggest that I'm even heading in the right direction. Mumbling curses under my breath, I about turn and follow after the little gremlin I've just somehow insulted.

"Hey, you." I call, my feet smacking against the linoleum floors. "Wednesday, wait!"

Her steps come to a halt. Her shoulders are tense, her whole posture ridged as she spins on her heel to face me. "Wednesday?" She repeats, a little flabbergasted. "As in Wednesday Adams?"

I drag my eyes over her very pale face, to her jet black hair, down her chest to her black velvet dress. My eyes linger on the frilled white collar around her nape, and I refrain from making a harsh comment. I then take in the thick black tights covering her slender legs, straight to the black velcro strapped shoes on her feet.

"Isn't this—" I put a hand on my chin, using the other to gesture towards her clothing. I grimace at her and take a moment to think of the word I'm looking for. "— whole look, a homage to her?"

It's either Wednesday Adams or a nun.

Her glare hardens, her rich chocolate eyes burn a hole in my forehead as her jaw clenches. We hold each other's stare for a few moments, I hate backing down from any challenge, and this sure feels like a staring contest. My eyes burn and something in my gut tells me to stop looking at her. Who knows, maybe she'll put a spell on me or some shit like that.

"Anyway," I cough, awkwardly. I avoid her eyes, suddenly realising that pissing her off may not be the best idea. I have no clue why she's in this place, she could be a witch, or maybe even a serial killer for all I know. "I need help."

"Help?" She questions with a snort. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back on her heels, rocking a little. "And why should I, help you?"

"Look at me," I say, maybe a little too smugly. "Why shouldn't someone like you, help someone like me."

"Someone like you... what do you mean?"

"Hot people help other hot people, hun." I wink, using my charm to lure her into helping me.

She raises one of her thin black eyebrows and purses her lips, seemingly unimpressed. I frown, not understanding where I've gone wrong. I complimented her, didn't I? A bigger compliment than I should've gave. Hot and pretty have two very different meanings.