Playing Games with The Player: GAME OVER (Sequal to PGWTP)

Chapter 13

My palms become mildly sweaty, and I feel like my breath is taken from me.

I desperately attempt to hide any hint of nervousness in my voice or movements, but something tells me I'm not doing the best job.

"Hi." I manage to speak, shakey and nervously.

"May I come in?" The prominate dark shadows encircling his blue eyes indicate lack of sleep.

I step aside, allowing him to gain entry.

He acts as if he's not stepped in my house in years, as if he's suspecting it to have changed.

I can't help but wonder why he wants to come see me. Curiousity nearly overwhelms me, and I try to find a way to speak.

"I know you're probably wondering why I stopped by," He begins.

I don't say anything, instead I listen to him as he stands with his hands in his pockets.

"I wanted to say I appreciate you, doing what you did, and getting me out." He smiles lightly.

I can't help but mentally chuckle, as I know him too well and can read him easily enough to know he's bluffing.

Instead of debating with him, I shrug my shoulder.

"Is that all?" I question him.

"I think it's great, you going to college. Doing something for yourself. I wish I could do that."

His words give me nothing but annoyance and pain as he speaks, and I can't quite hold in my honest words much longer.

"You could. Anyone can. Just takes hard work." I speak words of honesty, and he nods slightly.

I don't exactly want to display any concern for his well being, but I'm drowning myself trying not to ask any questions.

"Have you been drinking?" I ask calmly as he stares at the floor.

"No." He replies almost instantly.

I chuckle a little, and he turns to me.

His fierce eyes pierce into me, as I stand still as stone, parallel to his figure.

My pounding heart feels as if it can be heard from a mile, and with the pen-drop silence, I feel all the more vulnerable standing nervously in front of him.

"Gabby..." He whispers beneath his breath, nearly inaudible, and his voice brings enough power over me to nearly make my knees weaken to a fall.

I don't say a word, instead I look at him with concern as I meet my eyes to his sleepy, puffy ones.

His physical and psychological state makes me worry as I look at him.

"Did you drive like this?" I ask him, gaining enough courage.

He nods, attempting to reassure me.

"You're nearly drunk." I say nearly disgusted.

"I'm perfectly sober." He lies again.