On The Scale Of

Chapter 7

Daniel POV

"Ri, stop being a coward."

Nothing.

"Catherine is worried. You could at the very least tell her that you and Nat are both OK," I said to her door, or rather, my door. The girl basically locked me out of my own room.

As per usual, I was talking to thin air again. She boils my blood sometimes, I swear.

"Ri."

"Oh, wow. Can't you just leave me alone for one second?"

So, the ice princess finally decides to talk.

"You're being such a teenager. You and I both know you're way past that."

I heard her scoff all the way here. "I don't need you to tell me I'm old, Uncle."

"I am not your uncle," I spatted in disgust. "And I implore you to stop calling me as such. How old do you think I am?" Before she could give me a burn of a lifetime, which she will, mind you, I added, "Let me in. I can easily break into this room, you know."

"I'd like to see you try."

My noses flared. Gah! If there was one thing this girl is good at, it's to get on my blasted nerves. Luckily, I am a man of peace. I concentrated on inhaling deeply first and foremost, and then I adjusted the rim of my glasses. This verbal debate will get us nowhere, as it has many times before.

"Ri," I began, trying to tone down the inevitable condescension that is my tone. "If you won't talk to Catherine, for however reason that you have, then talk to me instead."

"How is that any better?"

"Because I won't worry or nag about you. I know how much you hate that," I told her in all honesty. "Now open up."

There came a deafening silence. Afterward, there were soft thuds of feet stepping toward the door then a pause. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. She always has the flair for dramatics. A few moments later, the door slowly cracked open.

"May I please go inside?"

"Whatever."

Impeccable manners, as always. I gently pushed open the door farther back and entered the room I haven't lived in for almost seven years. I felt somewhat saddened of the fact that the green paint I had grown to love had already peeled off the surrounding walls, with noticeably vacant spaces of what used to be my posters. There were no sign of cobwebs in the corners; I assume this was Catherine's doing. There was a double bed with fresh-looking sheets near the window adorned with patterned curtains hanging on the sides. My dresser/desk fusion remained in the same location. And of course, one Cherié Reid stood amidst my forgotten sanctuary.

With arms crossed, she leaned against the dresser with an indiscernible look on her face.

I left the door ajar and strode toward the bed. I testily sat on it, soaking in its old feel and texture. The futon gave a soft squeak as I settled my weight on it. I looked toward Ri, awaiting her explanation.

"What Nat said is true," she started calmly, her face away from me. "A thief broke into our house yesterday."

"You didn't call the police?"

She fiddled with her shirt's sleeves. "There was nothing to report. He didn't do anything."

"Except broke into this house."

When she finally turned to look at me, she did so with a fiery glare. "I could do without you attacking everything I say."

Her countenance screamed defensive. She seemed so easily provoked, as well. More so than usual. She was tensed, too; I can see it in her form. Her shoulders weren't relaxed and she kept on finding ways to occupy her hands.