The Nature Of The Beast

8: The Call

"Say something!"

FLOWER ROCKS restlessly on the bed, his body jolting with excitement as he examines me, eyes tracing each joyful inch and circling around my fingers curling the phone line. Gatsby laughs on the other line, the light of his voice filling the dark bedroom trapped inside of Gilded. There's been a new sense of happiness after we confronted Duke the night prior, Moxie the most improved out of all of us. He's been glowing ever since, his wounds rapidly improving and his wrist already unwrapped.

Flower snaps to get my attention, eyes widening to remind me to say something back before he turns his attention to the window. I've yanked off the black curtain, the thick material wrapped tightly away and the open air streaming through at a constant.

"H-hi. Hi." I correct with a cough, propping a leg against the wall behind me and leaning back to fix my jittery mindset. He's no better than me, no need to be nervous. "Did you miss me?" Flower squints in confusion at my tone but turns away hastily, something passing by the window seeming to grab his attention more.

"Well that's the reason I called you, Theo."

The sound of my name on his lips still sends shivers through me, the exact reason unknown to me still after all these weeks between us. "Oh really?" I bite, playing with him for a few moments until I can hear him breaking on the other side of the phone, waiting impatiently for my next words. "Maybe we should-"

"Do you miss me?"

Do I? I haven't stopped thinking of him since I saw him on the balcony nearly a month ago even if our meetings have been short met and long in between. The constant dreams I've been having about him surely say something about how I feel about him, the constant daydreams and headaches he causes within me, must mean something? Even if I don't want them to.

"Yes..."

"In what way?" He presses, voice dripping with a silk that has me stopped, breaths faltering as my mind rushes for a conclusion, for anything to say to him as the cool I once held melts away with his voice. "Baby...?"

"Flower get out." I rush, shooing the red head out the door and motioning for him to shut it with a fury. "Uhm baby?"

"That's what they call you at Gilded right? Baby?"

Anxiously my fingers run through my hair as they always do and I take a seat on the bed, legs shaky from his words and head just about as woozy. "Oh. Oh uh yeah, yeah it is."

"You sound disappointed." Gatsby chimes, the sound bringing back memories of the garden, the warmth of the day filling every fiber of my being, flooding the base of my blood with the scent of the garden, with the scent of him until it's a part of me as much as it is him.

"No, I'm not I-it's fine I-"

"Baby?"

An inhumane sound escapes my tight pressed lips, the entire room heating to a furnace until my cheeks are stained with blood. The excitement building until my heart beats with the rhythm of jazz and rushes with the feet of the swingers. There's no word except confusion for what is rushing inside of me, mouth dry and barren, void of what to say to the man.

"I don't know in what way, I just miss you." I admit, head falling into my hands with a sense of defeat.

"I didn't know when I was your age either but you figure it out."

It takes only a second to process what he means, the nervousness leaving with a rush instantly replaced with a frantic need to save my reputation, head physically swinging as if he can see me attempting to correct his mistakes. "I'm not ill! I just-I admire you is all! You're cool okay and I guess I like that about you?"