Stubborn But Broken

Chapter 5

Theron's neighbourhood was calm and greenery lived along the sidewalks. My only curiosity was how a waiter afforded this? I had convinced myself the building belonged to someone else until he unlocked the front door, holding it open for me.

I stumbled in, following Theron through the most put-together home I'd been inside, in literal years. The living room held a wide couch and lounge chair that actually looked comfortable. At Jason's place, each cushion had a broken spring poking from it and I had to maneuver my body constantly in attempt not to stab myself. The kitchen held an oven and a dish-washer, not just a sink which I had. And there was a second floor?! I had every urge to explore this cozy place, but my body barely had the energy to hold myself up.

"How the fuck do you pay for this?" I gaped.

"Waiting tables is not my prioritized job, Alora. I only started that because I was bored and wanted to learn something new." He chuckled at my expression, "I told you I graduated top of my class. I didn't just leave the degree in a closet."

"You chose to work in customer service? Who in their right mind would do that?"

I had zoned out of the conversation by then, blinking fast to consume every visual detail the place had to offer. Theron lived here? It looked so untouched. Too neat. This was a home with the perfect foundation, but it was a home begging to truly be lived in.

"Now look who's the kidnapper," I don't know why I said it, but I did.

He scoffed, "If you want me to tie your pretty little wrists to my bed frame, Alora, just say so."

"Very funny," I glared.

"Who said I was joking?" The man smirked. 

Holy shit. This man was bold at work but now, away from the professional setting, holy fucking shit. I mentally scolded myself for being intrigued. I wasn't used to this feeling, I almost desired physical touch in that moment but I kept my hands behind my back instead. I briskly welcomed myself up the stairwell.

There were two rooms up here. One bathroom that held a comfortable looking tub, and one bedroom. It held a king-sized bed with black sheets. A single tall plant stood in the far corner, next to a lamp. Surrounding the room were charcoal coloured walls. It was a simple set-up that I admired. Turning around to explore the rest of the place, I'd bumped straight into Theron's chest.

Before fear could build up at the fact I stood merely a meter from a bed with a man I hardly knew, he spoke up.

"You can sleep in here, I'll be downstairs on the couch if you need me." Theron's back was already turned towards me and I noticed black ink poking from the neck of his shirt.

"When did you get a tattoo?" The question was out before I could think.

He paused, facing me again. Goodness, he was insanely tall. "My last one was two months ago."

"Your last one? How many do you have?" I went to pass him attempting to sneak downstairs.

Theron's body blocked the doorway, "What are you doing?"

"Going downstairs?" I whispered, unsure.

He rose a brow, "What's with the sudden conversation, Alora?"

"I don't know," My head rested against the wall, peaking up at him through my messy hair. "It would be less scary to be here if I knew more about you."

His eyes softened, "Ask me anything."

We'd made our way downstairs, I sat on the velvety couch while Theron took the lounge chair. I had started with the simple questions. His favourite colour—black. Typical. His favourite animal—a bear. Then, I finally asked of the man's degree.