It Should Have Been Like This (The Revised Version)

Chapter 59: restless

I tossed and turned restlessly on my side of the bed, sighing heavily. Today had been a whirlwind of events, the drama both concerning and exciting. Tyra and Link had decided to have a private conversation to work things out, and the conclusion of the earlier incident weighed heavily on my mind.

Rylee had suggested that I should try to make Rominic jealous, throwing her support behind Phineas's plan. Rylee was always in Phineas's corner, and we all knew that it wouldn't take much to provoke Rominic's fiery jealousy. But that was the very problem I was grappling with.

Were they truly serious about me intentionally infuriating Rominic? I could barely handle him as it was; the thought of pushing him to the edge filled me with dread. Rominic was capable of such intense rage that he might even commit violence, and they still wanted me to go through with this scheme. It felt like a disaster waiting to happen. Yet, despite my reservations, I couldn't help but contemplate the idea, questioning why I was even considering it.

I turned to my side, facing Rominic. He sat on his own side of the bed, his fingers dancing across the keyboard with a mesmerizing speed and precision. I knew my restless tossing and turning was beginning to annoy him, but I couldn't seem to find any respite.

Who would I use as the object of Rominic's jealousy? Who was strong enough to withstand his volatile outbursts? Who would be willing to serve as a scapegoat? And why was I even agreeing to this unreasonable, almost childish, plan? These questions swirled endlessly in my mind.

With a frustrated sigh, I tried to clear my thoughts, hoping to find some semblance of clarity that would allow me to sleep. Rominic's typing, which sounded almost melodic, only served to further fuel my restlessness, and I suddenly felt the urge to dance, to move, to find some release from the turmoil of my thoughts.

Rominic finally huffed, interrupting the tense silence. "Okay, what is your problem?" He hadn't lifted his head from his laptop, and his lips remained pressed into an annoyed frown. His eyebrows were knitted together, not out of concentration, but clear frustration.

"I'm bored," I admitted candidly.

Rominic's response was matter-of-fact. "If you want to dance, then dance. I can see your legs tapping." He paused, then continued, "But I also know that surge of energy is coming from something else. I don't want to ask, because I know I'll be treading on dangerous territory, so I'm just going to tell you to go dance. There's a Just Dance machine in the playroom."

"You make it sound as if I'm a child," I complained, sliding to the edge of the bed. Rominic snorted in response, and I scowled, though the expression didn't last long. I couldn't shake the urge to do something, anything, with him. My eyes became fixated on his hands, mesmerized by the tempting flex of his muscles as he typed away on his laptop.

"Dance with me," I blurted out impulsively. Without sparing me a glance, Rominic lifted his laptop to indicate he was busy, but I couldn't help but pout in response, desperately wanting his undivided attention.

Rominic let out a frustrated sigh. "Lavender, I wasted all day at your ridiculous party, I can't—"

I quickly interjected, "Not ridiculous, but let's agree to disagree. And I thought your finger was broken? How are you still typing?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not the first time Rylee broke my fingers," he paused, shrugging again, "I'm used to it. You should go, I'm fine."

"I don't care if you are fine, just dance with me," I insisted. Rominic tilted his head thoughtfully, pressing his lips together as he considered my request. After a few seconds, he gave a slow nod of acquiescence.