Blue 2

Chapter Thirty-Six

I don't want to fight with him, though, so I nod and wheel our luggage into the room. Walking along the hardwood floor is like fire walking but with ice-cubes. I hurry to the dresser and grab a fuzzy pair of pajamas and matching socks. I sneakily steal one of Blue's sweatshirt hoodies from the closet and put everything on, already feeling warmer. I grab our pillows off the bed and a comforter from the closet in the hallway on the way back to the living room.

"Figured out how to use the thermostat yet?" I ask as I walk into the kitchen. I couldn't stomach any of the food on the airplane ride here, but now I'm hungry and in the mood for a sandwich.

I hear a bang in the next room before Blue walking into the kitchen. "No. The thing is a damn labyrinth. I think we should replace it with one less complex. Whoever made that thing is the spawn of Satan."

I laugh as I take out the essentials for a turkey sandwich. "A bit overdramatic, but I get it. That same thermostat took me a week to figure it out. I'll teach you how to use it, though. Don't worry."

"I never was." He crosses his arms and leans against the counter, watching me.

I smile and turn to the task at hand, spreading mayonnaise on the bread. As I add more ingredients, I contemplate bringing up that strange, rude girl in front of our apartment. I want to ask him who she is really. She seemed to be more than just an old friend. Maybe they'd fooled around in the past. I wouldn't mind. I mean, I wouldn't be jumping over the moon, but I knew of his sexual past before giving him the time of day. And what was she doing here, pounding on the door with that plastic bag in her hand? What was she dropping off for him? Why is he being so evasive and quiet? I have a million questions I doubt he would answer without storming off and getting pissed at me. I almost decide to keep quiet and ignore what happened, but my curiosity is getting the better of me. We should be able to discuss things as strong-minded adults anyway. We're in a serious relationship.

"Blue?"

"Yes, Lily?" He already sounds agitated.

I take my time applying the deli meat, forming a response that won't make him lose his cool, which is like dismantling a sensitive bomb. "Why was that girl here earlier? I would have loved to get to know her, since she's your friend and all, if she weren't so brutish."

"She isn't my friend, not anymore, anyway. And you wouldn't want to get to know her, trust me."

"Why not?"

"Because she's a low-life, and I stopped being friends with her for a reason."

"What was the reason?" I ask, teetering dangerously close to the red wire. One wrong move and he'll explode.

"Why are you asking so many questions?" Blue raises his voice.

"I'm curious," I reply softly and slice the sandwiches in half. I take a beat from lightly interrogating him and pull out the fruit punch from the fridge. I feel his eyes burning through his sweater that engulfs me and especially my hands. I push the heavy sleeves up to my elbow and pour two glasses.

As if defusing his own bomb, Blue exhales slowly and suggests, "Do you want to, like, watch a movie or something? A few movies and TV were added to Netflix this week. Not all of them are scary enough to make you piss your ridiculous fuzzy pants, so don't worry." I'm thankful for the lightness of his tone, and smile.

"I'd like to start a show that's been on my to-watch list for a while," I say and pick up the plates. He grabs the glasses and follows me into the living room. The floor is still cold beneath my feet, so I quickly set the plates down and scurry over to the thermostat. I promise to show him how to work it later, but for now I need to defrost. After cranking up the heat, the heaters begin to whistle, signaling the apartment will be heating up pretty soon. I walk back over to the couch and sit beside him, turning the TV on with a click of the remote.

"I'll be back, I have to use the bathroom," he announces and stands.

"Okay, I'll look for the show."

He leaves the room and a few seconds later I hear the bathroom door click shut.

I get comfy on the couch, covering my legs with the hefty comforter. A strange sound elicits when I move to around to get comfortable. Frowning, I stop for a second and pat around. I find the mysterious black plastic bag under the waves of the bedsheet. My heart beats out of place as I lift the bag into the air and gently bounce it. Something moves inside of it, and it heavily reeks of an unknown substance. I stretch my arm out, getting it away from my nose. The bag isn't heavy, but it's obvious there's something in here. I get a sinking feeling in my stomach wondering what could be in the bag. I move to put my other hand in and find out for myself, but a part of me stops me out of fear. Not because of what I could find, but because of the backlash I'll get with Blue.

"What do you think you're doing?" Blue's loud voice startles me and causes me to drop the bag on the ground. He strides over and swipes the bag off the floor, glaring at me like I'm his enemy.

"Um... n-nothing," I stammer.

"Sounds really fucking convincing."

"Do not curse at me." I return his glare and place the TV remote on the coffee table.

"Then don't go rifling through my shit. I don't go digging through your stuff!" He yells, and I stand up. He easily towers over me, and he broadens his stance, trying to intimidate me, but I'm not threatened by an asshole getting mad at me over basically nothing.

"I wasn't going through your stuff. The bag fell, and I picked it up," I explain, but he doesn't care.

"You should have left it alone, then."

"I am sorry I touched your precious bag," I say sarcastically and raise my hands up in mock defense. "What's so precious about it that you're yelling at me and acting like I did the worst thing possible?"

"None of your business," he hisses before storming into the hallway.

But I'm following closely behind. I contemplate grabbing the back of his shirt, but before I can even reach out for him, the bedroom door slams in front of my face. I let out a shocked gasp and listen to him shuffle around the room. Did he just slam the damn door in my face? I should have known our little blissful moments together would be ruined by him being an outright asshole. Why do I never prepare for his erratic mood switch?

When he opens the door, he's wearing a black hoodie, has a black duffel bag slung around his shoulder, and an ugly scowl on his face. "Why do you always have to start shit for no reason?" He exclaims and brushes past me.

"No reason?" I follow him out to the main area. "We came home to a random girl yelling at our door with a strange bag you're weirdly possessive over. Why are you keeping what it is such a huge secret? Does this have to do with that text from Hunter?" I ask him, but he ignores me and stomps to the front door. "Where are you doing?" I scream.

"Out," he simply answers, his voice a tad calmer.

"Out?" I repeat incredulously, walking over to him but stopping a foot away. He avoids my wide-eyed stare. "What the hell does that mean? You can't just up and leave because you're angry with me. You're keeping a secret from me, I should be the one leaving, not you! Why can't we just talk instead of making this an even bigger problem?"

"I don't need to relay everything I do to you just because we're in a relationship. If I knew you would freak out, I would have met her at her place," he says, and I gasp, tears welling in my eyes. His face scrunches up in frustration and he runs his hand over the back of his neck then through his hair under the hoodie. "You always have to make problems that are unnecessary. Why don't you just stay out of this and mind your fucking business?" he gripes and storms out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.