Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Lot of stress going on.
Chapter 11 : How To Stop Being Called A Kid
“Tell me again why we’re up at the ass-crack of dawn?”
I looked towards Warren. We were sitting on a bench, in the middle of a park that Gerber usually runs in. He usually went there on the weekdays, in the morning before work. “Because Gerber usually runs here.”
“If he’s not here, you’re the one going to be running,” Warren snapped at me, crossing his arms.
Apparently, Warren was not a morning person. But luckily, I was. “Calm down. He always runs. He should be here.” It was around 5 in the morning, which was why he was so cranky. I looked towards the sky and watched as the sun rose. “Look. I love watching the sunrises.”
“Why?” He asked moodily. “Just another fucking day.”
“Because each one is different,” I said. “It’s like watching a movie that doesn’t have an ending.” I forced his head to turn in the direction of the rising sun. “Watch. No talk, just watch.”
That’s what we did. We watched the sunrise together. I sipped my coffee quietly and relaxed. I pretended that my boss wasn’t after me, and that the person next to me wasn’t 300 years old, and that everything was just normal. How it should be. And then it ended.
“Sunrises are fucking stupid.”
I sighed flatly, eyes still on the sky. “We can’t ever have a good moment between us. Ever.”
“Good moments?” Warren snorted. “You make it sound like we’ve known each other for years. You don’t know the half of what I’ve been through, kid.”
“Call me kid again and I will take this coffee and dump it over your head,” I snapped at him. I lowered my threat and lowered my voice. “Fine then. Tell me something about you.”
“But that’s the thing,” He said. “I want to keep it that way.”
I wasn’t sure if I should feel hurt by that. “Well I don’t. So tell me.”
“No.”
I ignored him. “When were you born?”
He sighed. “Alex, don’t start this.”
“C’mon, War. It’s just one question.”
Warren rubbed at his hairy cheek. “1704.”
The coffee in my mouth was spat into the air. I started hacking, but Warren didn’t even look to me. Instead, he was looking out into the distance, as if nothing happened. “W - 1704?” I repeated after I was done choking.
“I’m a god damn walking history textbook,” Warren spat.
I did a once-over on him. He definitely did not look like he was from the 1700’s. He looked...modern. “That’s so cool,” I said in awe, poking at his cheek. He made a face and slapped my hand away.
“It’s not cool,” He snapped. “It’s terrible. I should be in a grave, six feet under.”
“Alright,” I said. “Next question.”
“What? No. That’s it, that’s all you get.”
I pouted. “Oh, c’mon.”
He suddenly smirked, his dark eyes circling in on me. “Actually, I’ll only answer your questions if you answer some of mine.”
“Fine,” I said in an instant. “What’s your - ”
“Nope,” He said. “My turn.” He shot me a wicked grin. “Let’s see, we’ll start with an easy one…what’s your bra size?”
I almost started hacking again. “E-excuse me?”
“From far away, you take one look at you and it’s like, heaven sent down a piece of pie but then you get close up and you see this - ” He hovered a hand over my chest and grimaced, “ - and then it’s like, they forgot the whipped cream on top.”
I swatted his hand away, growling. “Not answering that. Ask a different question.”
He rolled his eyes. “You’re right, I already know your bra size.”
I gaped at him. “No you don’t.”
“I went back to your house to grab your clothes, did I not?”
My mouth dropped open. “You did not - ”
“Next question,” He cut me off with ease. “Why did you and Baby Food break up?”
This question was not any better. “Problems.”
“What kind of problems?”
“That’s another question. It’s my turn,” I said. “Who is the guy that’s after you?”
Warren sent me a look that I was pushing it, but I didn’t really care at the moment. “Ryan Caine.” I gave him a look that said, ‘and?’. He sighed and rubbed at his cheek. “He was my best friend for a really long time. He went…psycho with power.”
I stared at him as he covered up his pain with a smirk. “Did Baby Food say you were a good kisser?”
All the emotions I was feeling for him blew away with the wind. “He - no!”
“So you’re a bad kisser, then?”
“No! I’m an amazing kisser!” I defended. “And that was two questions, so I get two.”
“Fuck,” He muttered.
“How many languages do you speak?”
He blinked. I know that was not a question he was expecting. “Um…I don’t know, like four. Italian, English, Hungarian, and Romanian.”
Romanian. That’s probably the language he was speaking in his dream…or nightmare. “Do you have nightmares often?”
Warren knew I was pushing it now. He swallowed and looked me dead in the eye. “All the time.” He coughed, and just like that, it was his turn again. “Did Baby Food even like you?”
I blinked. “Of course he did! He was the one to ask me out!”
“Are you sure?” He gave a little snort. “Because to be honest, I would’ve went with someone else, kid.”
Anger filled my veins and I couldn’t stop myself. Actually, correction: I didn’t want to stop myself. I took the lid off of my warm coffee and dumped the contents of it onto Warren’s head. It rolled off his hair, onto his cheeks, and dripped onto his shoulders. We both froze; his eyes closed, mine wide open.
The sticky coffee was dripping off his hair, his nose, pretty much everywhere. The silence was so thick and my heart started to hammer wildly. Warren was capable of killing people with his bare hands. That was the worst possible thing I could’ve done. When I couldn’t take it anymore, his dark eyes flashed open and all I saw was pure hatred.
“Run,” He snarled.