Ineffable

15 | VANILLA AND NACHOS

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Noah

I am really accustomed to sleeping at Adi's place that this... seems weird—to sleep at Bella's. Probably, the fact that this is the only time I am in some girl's house and I am not—well, we don't exactly talk or even hug.

Or, maybe, Bella is different. Not different, she is like fresh air; something that is rare, nowadays.

So rare that I told her the reason for me sleeping here. And I do not even tell Adi the whole extent of any reason for staying at his place, except for that day. This reminds me that Adi is probably going to do a whole 'my best friend doesn't trust me and slept at some other person's place but I approve of her so it is okay' act but I already messaged him that he doesn't need to worry about me.

Today was a shit day, I admit.

And more fucking shit after a particular realization: I fucking loathe Thomas Scott.

That seems more angsty—like me.

Ignoring the fact that he is Bella's ex-boyfriend, the way he held onto her hand even when she was trying to get it away really had pissed me off. If it wasn't for Bella, I think I would have picked up a fight with him, right then.

And I am very capable of kicking his arse.

I didn't tell Daisy about Thomas or anything when Bella had rushed upstairs. That is something she would tell her sister if she wants to; I am not going get into that.

It is already enough that Daisy is Percy's someone—not sure where they both are standing and no, I am not going to question it. So, I just do not want the conversation to be infelicitous.

I sigh, putting my hands behind my head and stare at the ceiling.

I curse—that is not new at all.

I curse at whoever is there above who people pray to. Because that is the only thing I do, every night I can't fall asleep. Sometimes I feel like caffeine runs in my blood, instead of hemoglobin.

Now, I hear the faint sound of bare feet pacing outside the room. I sit upright, alert, but relax after I hear some mumbling from the other side.

Bella paces around for some more time until I go and open the door.

She jumps back a step, in surprise, looking at me. Her messy raven-black hair falls, unceremoniously, just above her shoulder.

Bella.

I had told her, "I would not call you a mess."

She had asked a question in return. "Then, what would you?"

I had wanted to reply.

Heck, I want to hold her face in my hands and reply to that sentence. But no, because a) I do not know the answer, myself, and b) I have to control this caveman of mine that sometimes bursts out for her

But—of course—she is the wrecking ball to all my plans.

I lean against the frame of the door, waiting for her to explain—rant about it.

"What is it?" I ask her. She opens her mouth to say but stop as her eyes sweep over my body.

Oh, right. I had taken off the sweatshirt she had given me. It is probably not getting back in her closet—not anytime soon, at least. I frown, internally, at how much of a creep I am being but, fuck, that is the truth.