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12 | tristan

     Tristan was fond of getting some peace and quiet on most occasions, yes, but the silence inside the car as he drove the two of them back home was thick and filled with tension, he could almost taste the uneasiness and hesitation radiating off of them.

     To fill the void of silence, he decided to initiate a conversation, even just a teeny ounce of small talk would do. Usually, whenever he drove back to his apartment after his daily dose of caffeine, it only took him about ten to fifteen minutes—but tonight was different. The excruciating silence continued to stretch on, ensconcing them in an enigmatic barrier of stillness.

     Tristan couldn't handle the deafening silence, though.

     "Hey, Vanessa," he said warily, testing the waters as he threw her a quick glance. She didn't say anything. He took it as a sign to continue what he was saying. "Do you, uh, like to watch movies? We could watch some at my place," he paused for a moment, waiting for some kind of response from her again.

     She stayed silent.

     "Okay..." Tristan trailed off awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "What was the last movie you've watched?" he asked in a pleasant tone, but as usual, she didn't give him an answer.

     "I haven't watched a lot of movies since I started college," he continued, feeling slightly embarrassed by his confession. He was a big fan of movie-watching, but academics was still at the top of his list.

     Besides, he was too caught up with finding out everything he could about her, and that was already a good excuse to skip a few movie premiers here and there. "I think the last movie that I've watched was Logan. It was a kick ass movie—kind of sad, really, but it was still awesome."

     When he glanced at her again, her brown eyes were downcast and her mouth was set into a grim line. Unable to come up with another topic to talk about, he ran his hand through his hair and decided to remain quiet as well.

     Tristan easily parked his car, and then, with slightly shaky fingers, he opened the passenger door for Vanessa and said, "Come on, let's go inside." He held out his hand for her to take, but she ignored it as she got out of his car.

     He could practically hear his pulse pounding wildly against his ears as he led her inside his apartment. Truth be told, inviting girls over at his place wasn't a new thing to him—in fact, he was already used to the presence of women around him, but nothing was this intense.

     He became more nervous and fidgety than before. Now he wasn't sure if inviting her to come over at his place was a good plan. They were going to be alone together, and he honestly had no idea how he would be able to pull off breaking the ice once they were in his living room.

     The caffeine he'd consumed at the coffee shop made him more alert and awake; it was also making it harder for him not to focus on how close they were almost touching as he sat beside her on the couch.

     Sure, he'd steadied her with his hands earlier, but this kind of closeness and tension simmering between them was enough to make him stand up abruptly and excuse himself to make them a hot beverage. He needed air to breathe. Sitting there with her wasn't helping his lungs process oxygen into carbon dioxide.

     The living room was quiet—a peaceful kind of quiet, not the awkward one that lingered when they were inside his car—and the drizzle continued outside.

     Tristan handed her a comfy blanket so she could warm herself up before he went inside the kitchen. He got out two mugs from the cupboard and made coffee for both of them. He wasn't sure how she usually drank her coffee, but he silently hoped that it was good enough for her not to throw it away.