The Mute [Elliot Alderson]

23.2 | s i t u a t i o n s h i p

So guys, this book is nearly finished. There's only a couple of chapters left, and it's finally done. No, I will not be writing a sequel, mainly because I don't feel as though I had as much fun writing this as I do my other books—and I think when I wrap up everything, there won't be any cliffhangers or unanswered questions. If there is, I'll answer them in the comment section of the chapter titled "THE END" that I'll post after I publish the very last chapter of the book.

I'm sorry updates have been slow and I haven't been the greatest at keeping up with this book that I was once so excited for, but I just felt like I ended up straying Bes's character too far from how I imagined her at the beginning. I may even re-write the book, but as far as right now, I don't see that happening.

BES

I allowed Elliot to come into my apartment and when he passed the threshold, I closed the door to the outside world.

"First off," he began. "You never give me a chance to say anything. You come to my apartment, knock on my door, yell at me when I answer and leave—never giving me a chance to defend myself whatsoever. How is that fair?" He questioned and I could honestly really hear the hurt in his voice, which actually made me hurt a little inside.

I felt guilty for doing that so often, and I didn't realize how much it honestly affected him. I guess I kind of haven't exactly though about anyone but myself since I moved here, either.

"It's not." I whispered to him, and he didn't look as taken aback as I thought he would at hearing me speak.

"Where were you last night?" He questioned, and I heard a tone in his voice that was near demanding but not scary or threatening in any way.

"I was at Angela's. I needed to take some time to think after recent events." I left out the near taking my life part, because, details are just details—no big deal.

"Why couldn't you just talk to me, Bes? Why did we have to play all these games? It's like I know you, but I don't really know you. I've kissed you, but I barely understand anything about you. It feels like everything has been a big secret this entire time, and I don't feel like we're getting anywhere," Elliot paused and moved his way deeper into my living room, making himself comfortable for the very first time. The choice of furniture I had to laugh at, because he chose to sit in the $10 computer chair versus the $6,000 chair.

"I want to know who you are—But the only way I've been able to get to know any real things about you is invading your privacy, to be blunt." I didn't know how that was supposed to make me feel. Uncomfortable, or flattered that he even bothered?

"Well, that's kind of creepy Elliot." I stated, as if it should have been obvious already—WHICH IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN.

Although he's cute, I don't see as to why he should get a pass on hacking into my computer and social media's. That's creepy status.

"Okay, I think we've addressed that part." He said, completely ignoring the gravity of his actions. How typical.

"Okay—Yeah, let's just ignore that. What else is on your mind?" I asked sarcastically.

"Well, I just think that we've been playing games, this entire time, and they don't even make any real sense. Do you like me? Do I like you? We clearly are attracted to each other, but the only thing we've done is practically yell at each other this entire time—Or more like, you, yelling at me." I rolled my eyes.

"Don't be dramatic. You've had your faults too. Regardless of whether you felt like I practically forced you into hacking me because of how elusive I was, doesn't change the fact that you betrayed my trust—and if were being even more honest—I don't think I even trusted you enough in the beginning. It's not like we've known each other longer than six months or something." It was Elliot's turn to be frustrated, because I know it had to have annoyed him to not have to dig for the truth this time.

"Why didn't you tell me you could speak?"

I was taken aback by that question.

"What the fuck do you mean?" I spat angrily.

"I didn't hear your voice personally until two weeks ago, but you talked before then."

"Not everything revolves around you, Elliot. Maybe you weren't the first to hear it because I didn't want you to. Oh, and, I never explicitly told you I couldn't speak—I'm, or was, a selective mute. Google it." I remarked sassily.

He crossed his arms, pouting over the fact that he had to admit that I was right.

"I don't ever do this," He mumbled quietly.

"Do what?"

"Get like this, with people. You just.. You frustrate me and intrigue me at the same time. It brings a different kind of response out of me, for some reason." I pondered over Elliot's thoughts, confused on why he was just now telling me that.

"Well I'm not some kind of puzzle you need to figure out. You could have asked me anything and maybe I would have told you." He sighed and I stayed silent for a while after that.

The room was filled with a pregnant pause, and it irritated my soul.

"Is that all you wanted?" I questioned, and he stood up from the bean bag chair.

"What do you mean is that all I wanted?"

"Well, I'm just wondering if there's something you need or if I can go back to what I was doing before you came." My intentions weren't to sound as rude as I was making myself seem, but apparently I just couldn't hold myself back.

"Oh, what? Chain smoking a pack of cigarettes while putting groceries away?"

I was irked by the fact that he knew exactly what I was doing.

"Maybe you should leave." I suggested, lowly.

"Maybe I should." He responded, walked to my door and swung it open. He took a step outside and into the hall way, retreating back to his apartment but leaving my door wide open.

I growled in my throat and slammed the door shut, hurriedly crawling into my bed so I could take a nap for the day.

I woke up a few hours later, still angry, and unfortunately it was to a knock on my door. I could only imagine who it would be this time.

I swung open the door with reckless abandon. I could care less if that door feel off it's hinges at this point.

It was Elliot, again.

"You just can't get enough, can you?" I joked, lightheartedly.

"You're right." He stated with no emotion, blankly staring at me. I hesitated before I spoke again. What is he thinking?

"About wh—" He cut me off with a chaste kiss to my lips and pushed me inside of my apartment, slamming the useless door behind him.

My cheeks immediately flushed red, and before I could collect my thoughts he came back for more; he gently touched my lips with his this time.

I responded and kissed him back because all though we've been playing stupid games, I'm still attracted to him and care about him in some weird way.

"Bes, I want you."

"What?" I questioned, alarmed.

"I want you. All you have to say is yes... Or no. If you say no, I'll leave right now."

Is he asking what I think he's asking? I've never seen Elliot speak with such utmost certainty, and I've never imagined him getting that physically close to someone.

My mind was already made up before he said anything, though.

"Yes."

Suffice to say, the night was filled with long talks, the loss of my virginity, amazing sex and smoking more cigarettes than I probably should have. It felt like I actually belonged in this apartment for the very first time since I moved here, and I had no regrets.

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