Knowing Zayle

7 •Between Positions

He nodded again, pissing her off as she aggressively grabbed a fork from her counter, startling the man.

"Why the hell did your cousin leave anyway?" She questioned as she grabbed her bowl of noodles.

He stared at her for a moment, his gaze lingering on her lips before he glanced at the bowl.

She gave him her bowl and grabbed the ones on the stove before she leaned back on her counter, stabbing the noodles with much more for than necessary as she waited for him to answer her question.

"I... Don't know either." He sighed as he slowly wrapped the noodles around the fork.

Rena nodded before chewing her own noodles mindlessly, her eyes wandering to the floor.

Hm. These noodles taste like soap.

She eyed the fork questioningly before sighing loudly.

The sound of a throat clearing broke the silence and she looked over at the long-haired man, her eyes straying to his empty bowl.

I mean, I am one hell of a cook.

"Give me your fork real quick." She said as she snapped her fingers twice, noticing his eyes light up in response.

He quickly handed her the fork and watched as she fed herself with the fork, and she could have sworn she'd seen a flicker of annoyance flash across his expression.

"What?" She asked through a mouthful of noodles.

His eyes narrowed and he took a step forward, reaching for the dark blue bowl before she angrily moved away.

"The hell is up with you?!"

Her question was blatantly ignored and she dashed behind her island, panic spreading across her face as he rushed after her.

What the fuck is this niggas problem?!

She could barely dwell on the thought as he jumped across the counter, eliciting a shrill shriek from the woman's mouth.

"Unhand the bowl, Rena." He said with narrowed eyes and she scoffed, quickly becoming nervous as he suddenly moved, as if he were going to run towards her.

"Who the fuck do you think you are, you fatass, make your own damn bowl!"

She immediately regretted her words as they were both suddenly tousling over the bowl, grunts and the sound of feet squeaking against her kitchen floor filled the room.

So awkward.

"Stop-"

She gasped as the hot juice spilled on her, her immediate reaction being to let go of the bowl as she slipped on the wet floor.

Her eyes found Zayle, who had too fell, but from the sudden release of the bowl and she shrieked again loudly as her head collided with the floor.

Her eyes watered immediately, her teeth biting into her lower lip to keep her screams of pain in.

Fucking dumb, fatass bitch, fighting over a half eaten bowl of fucking noodles-

Her eyes snapped to the bowl, it's contents all over the floor.

"You..."

She was at a loss for words.

Zayle was slouched against a cabinet, the juices soaking through his shorts and shirt. She couldn't even be distracted by his visible body as she stared at the wasted food.

She hadn't even realized the fat, ugly tears spilling down her face, or the mascara slowly mixing with the salty liquid.

And to add to her pathetic appearance, snot ran down her nose and into her mouth as strained sobs tried to force it's way out of her poorly closed mouth.