The Love Interests

11 : klexos

Before he could even let the stillness, which was akin to the former, ensue; he inquired with bewilderment, "You're a Landon?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?" I responded rather languidly, slouching my shoulders against the seat with my eyes zeroed on him tentatively and my feet propped against the dashboard.

There was a ghost of a smile resting absentmindedly on his lips as he turned the wheel with two hands, manoeuvring the vehicle to the right and explained tersely, "My dad knew yours because of college, I think. They go way back."

Though he was unbeknownst to everything, he had just placed his foot in his mouth when all he wanted to do was have a little small talk. I tried to keep my gaze neutral and unaffected, but, I couldn't help but stare at him rigidly – stare at him as he took it upon himself to bring up a topic I would've rather not talked about any time soon.

"Oh, uh, he never talked about your dad." I drew out a sharp breath, letting an elasticated smile overrule my lips intuitively. Of course he had talked about his former colleagues, I was just too caught up in my own glitches and hiccups to even acknowledge the fact that I didn't value him. I only knew when it was too late. "I forgot to tell you that the gown is lovely. Though, I don't think it's my size."

Changing the topic and weaselling your way out of your problems, I see, a voice teased resolutely, jeering with a tone of sheer farce and a tone that marginally made me clench my fists. If my conscience had initially thought of riling me up and sending me over the edge, then it had done a fan-fucking-tastic job at doing so.

His eyebrows were drawn together firmly and his lips were pressed together in a fine line, as he was deep in the alcove of his thoughts. After his lips had parted slightly and his jaw was unclenched, he replied frantically, "You should've told me sooner. I mean, when you agreed, I assumed the gown fits you. I can ask my dad's friend, but I don't want to make any promises –"

Before he could even result to a meltdown because of his qualms, I disclosed the fits of laughter that I had been suppressing during the duration of his prior rambling and firmly placed a palm over my mouth to muffle my entirely unappealing chortle.

"I...I was...joking!" I attempted to respond in between my fits of laughter, which was kindled when a look of sheer chagrin descended his features all at once. "That look on your face...it's so fucking priceless."

He threw me a look of sheer exasperation over his shoulder and parked the car parallel to Ivan's apartment. I sank deeper into my seat in outright discomfiture when I realised he didn't bother to answer me, let alone utter a single word. In an attempt to do something other than embarrass myself further, I unfastened the seatbelt and propelled myself up, despite my humiliation, to open the door.

As soon as I heard the faint slam of the door, I met his gaze squarely with a ghost of a meek smile tugging at my lips. To be frank, it wasn't everyday that I've been a little too good-humored that I got on people's nerves.

"Sorry," I admitted bashfully, traipsing towards the cobblestone steps with Conrad trailing behind me. "You have to admit – it was funny."

A sound, which seemed to be like a chuckle, resonated from behind me faintly, however, it still had not escaped my notice. "Whatever. Don't do that again."

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"ARE YOU TWO WEARING SOMETHING DECENT?" I bellowed, pressing face firmly against the wooden door. "Or, the better question is, are you wearing anything at all?"