The Hurt Game

❧ eight

A chair nearby scraped across the floor. It jerked me out of my reading and dreamy state. My heart raced in my chest as I looked up. A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips as my heart settled in my chest, beating a regular and steady beat. My muscles relaxed and I slumped in the chair slightly.

"What are you doing here? I thought you said you had work," I said. Even though I was surprised to see Royden sitting in front of me, I felt happy seeing him, the smile stretching on my lips.

"Wanted a break and I saw you sitting here, so I thought I would join you shortly," Royden answered me with a half shrug. He held a coffee to-go in his hand, taking a sip.

Slowly I closed the book I was reading and placed it on the table. My heart skipped a beat before beating louder as I thought about him wanting to see me. It was a comforting, steady beat instead of the frantic and panicky beat from hours ago. Upon seeing him, everything inside of me relaxed and I could breathe a little easier.

"That's sweet," I smiled softly. He nodded his head before glancing outside, probably something having caught his eye. Someone walked past with a dog.

I grabbed my own coffee cup and took a sip, wrapping my hands around it, cradling it when I brought it to my lips. Tentatively I took a sip, but it had cooled down. It wasn't going to burn me anymore.

Royden shifted his gaze back on me while placing his cup down. He licked his lips. His eyes narrowed as his eyebrows furrowed into a frown.

"What's wrong?" he questioned.

The smile faded from my lips slightly. I shook my head as I sighed and put my cup down. "Nothing. I'm fine," I assured him.

He raised an eyebrow and tapped the surface of the table with his fingertips once. My eyes averted from him and I traced invisible lines on the table. My heartbeat quickened into a more panicked one as I hoped I could avoid talking about my father.

"Wave, what's wrong?"

I licked my lips and swallowed thickly. I moved my head upwards and I met his eyes, his gaze guarded yet concerned. It was the same expression he showed me yesterday, after that almost car accident, after he had asked me twice about my safety.

My fingers picked on the white nail polish, on the sides of my nails. It was discomforting, but it distracted me from the actual nerves coursing through me. It distracted me from telling what had happened. And it helped.

So when Royden reached forward, grabbed both of my hands―which sent tingles all throughout my body―and stopped me from avoiding to talk to him, I wanted to curse him. I wanted to hit him. I wanted to yell at everyone around me, except for him.

A deep sigh escaped my lips. It was no use going around him and somewhere, deep down inside of me knew I was never going to be able to lie to him. He would always see through me. But how was he able to?

"I had a fight with my father," I confessed while slowly meeting his eyes. They softened. He cocked his head to the side. I fidgeted in my seat and wrapped my hands around the cup. "Nothing to worry about though."

A smirk crept its way onto his face slowly. Royden leaned back in his seat and he wrapped his hand around the cup. His thumb ran along the edge of it.

"Princess got daddy issues," he mused.

I rolled my eyes and was tempted to kick his leg underneath the table. Yet a small smile curled my lips upwards and I felt myself relax, my muscles unclenching, the nerves fading away, and I relaxed against the back of the seat.

"I'm no princess."

❦❦❦

Royden slowed down the car, stopped a couple houses down from my house. My father was home and I couldn't risk him seeing me step out of Royden's car. He had already spotted me last night and this morning I had taken the full consequence of it.