11:38 am
Is ignoring still ignoring if the person you’re ignoring is also ignoring you? I don’t think so, I think it would just be called ‘not talking to each other.’ Ignoring is if you don’t respond to someone who is talking to you.
Too bad. I wanted to ignore him. But he is not talking to me either. Which pisses me off too.
You know what also pisses me off? Boredom. I fucking hate boredom. My mouth is dry as fuck, my stomach grumbles all the time and I feel like I haven’t slept in two weeks, but the worst feeling I have at the moment is boredom.
I knew that if I wouldn’t have been mad at him, that I would’ve been a lot less bored, but I was too stubborn to admit it. I never admitted I’m wrong. Even though I was wrong most of the time.
I coughed and immediately regretted it, as my throat felled like it was made out of sandpaper. In the corner of my eyes I see Mike getting up from the floor, walking up to his backpack and getting something out of it. Eventually I heard some glide towards me. I looked to see it was a green bottle of beer.
I took it, examined it and put it down again with a disgusted look on my face. I didn’t drink alcohol.
“I would highly recommend you to drink it, you sounded like a dying whale when you coughed.” I hear Mike say. Yay, something to ignore.
I kept looking away from him and pretending he didn’t existed. A short silence filled the room and eventually I heard Mike mumble: “Jeez, what are you? Six?”
I look up a little offended. So far for ignoring. “What? Because I don’t drink alcohol? Grow up yourself.” I said, looking like I was about to spit at his feet.
Mike sighed deep. “No because you’re acting like a fucking child by ignoring me and shit.” He said as he took a sip of his beer. I could see the ecstasy on his face as the liquid travelled down his throat. It made me more thirsty.
“You ignored me too.” I mumbled annoyed. I crossed my arms in a pouting matter.
“No, I didn’t talk to you.” He said in between gulps. “That’s something entirely different.”
I groaned. This guy drove me crazy for some reason, but I didn’t not like arguing with him for some reason. I laid down on my stomach and buried my face in my arms.
“You wanna know what I think?” He asked.
“No” I said without making any movements.
“I think you’re stubborn.” He said. No shit Sherlock. “You’re too stubborn to drink that beer even though you’re practically dying of dehydration, just because you don’t want to make it up to me, because that would require admitting you were wrong.”
I let out another annoyed groan as I tried to come up with another come back. “Firstly, I’m not drinking that because I don’t drink alcohol. We could be saved out of here any minute. Secondly, I don’t have to admit I was wrong, because I was right. I wasn’t leading you on.”
All my muscles tightened when I heard him stand up and walk towards me. He kneeled down just next to my body, I saw that from the little crack between my head and arms I allowed myself to look though.
“We won’t be saved out of here soon, and you know that. We’re lucky if it takes another hour.” He said and I noticed him getting closer to me until I felt his breath against my ear. “And don’t pretend like you didn’t want to kiss me. I saw it.”
Shivers went through my spine and I couldn’t help liking it to be so close to him. I got myself in sitting position again and pushed him away against his chest. “You fucking asshole. I know girls normally just throw themselves at you, but that doesn’t mean I will.”
He shot me an angry glare. “Don’t talk about my fans like that. They don’t just throw themselves at us.”
I scoffed. “Luckily they don’t, they’re almost all at least ten years younger than you. No, I was talking about the groupies.” I said and I saw him sigh.
“You really think I sleep with every girl I see right?” He said and when I looked inside my eyes I saw that he was truly offended. “I’m not like that.”
For some reason I believed him. At the beginning of the night, I did saw him like that. Like a big player that stole every girls heart he found on the way. But now I knew him better. I had been constantly with him for ten hours long and I got to know him as a caring person.
“You don’t have to defend yourself towards me.” I said, trying really hard to keep sounding like a bitch. “I don’t care.”
“But I do.” He said. I looked at him and saw that he meant it.
“Why?” I asked a little bit taken back. My walls disappeared for a moment.
“Because I think we have a click.” He said not taking his eyes of mine. “And whether it is as friends or more, I don’t want you to think that I’m a player.”
I opened my mouth, but didn’t really know what to say. This conversation suddenly went from cold and annoyed to serious and open. I didn’t know if I was ready for that.
I shut my mouth and dragged my hand through my hair. It felt a little greasy and tangled. I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I probably looked like shit. I didn’t want to look like shit in front of him.
“I don’t think you are.” I said very softly. It felt like I was forced to say that by a voice in my head, but at the same time letting down my wall and being nice to him was hard for me.
“Why? you don’t even know me.” He said and he looked like he was on the point of defending himself again.
“I do know you.” I said, now a bit louder. “At least we’ve spent almost ten hours in an elevator together. It seems like I know you.” I chuckled nervously.
He smiled. “So you don’t hate me?” he asked.
“No I don’t hate you…” I said. Why was it so hard to stay mad at this guy? And again my morals flew away and hit somewhere outside this elevator.
I looked beside me and eyed the bottle of beer for a while. He was right. I wasn’t going to make it if I didn’t drink it.
I sighed and pushed away the fear that started rising in my stomach. I grabbed the bottle and brought it to my lips. Even though it wasn’t cold and the taste was very bitter, it felt like I came back to life for a while as the fluid spread across my throat and fell to my stomach. It felt so good.
But at the same time, I couldn’t help the memories flashing through my brains. Glass splattering across the wall. The smell of alcohol filling the living room. Tears rolling over my little, chubby cheeks. My mother screaming at my dad.
I held on to my little backpack that held all my clothing. Shivers went over my body as I tried really hard to shut them out. In the corner of my eyes I saw Elijah standing next to me. His cheeks were also covered in tears, fright visible in his big brown eyes. “I’m scared, Amara.”
I looked at my little brother. The little boy that hated fights more than anything in the world. The boy that only wanted everyone to get along. I knew these last few months had been harder for him than me, because fights were more often now.
My parents had divorced a few months ago and it had changed them. Not only were they more sad, it seemed like they had so much anger in them. Especially my dad. He used to be a sweet dad. Now it seemed like all that mattered to him was winning from my mom. He had done things, I had realized years later, were very wrong.
I held out my hand to Elijah and he took it, sitting down next to me. I put my arms around his tiny body in an attempt to isolate him from this. I didn’t want him to hear this. I was the big sister, I needed to be the strong one.
“It’s going to be okay, El.” I whispered to his curly, dark hair. I felt him silently sob, his back moving up and down.
At the same time I tried to listen to the conversation my parents were having. I knew there was no way to shut them out. They would shout hard enough for us to hear. It was like they had forgotten that we were in the other room.
“NO PETE. YOU DON’T GET THEM. NOT BEFORE YOU’VE PAID EVERYTHING. NOT BEFORE EVERYTHING IS SETTLED. I’M SICK OF IT.” I heard my mother scream in an high pitched voice. Normally my mother was the only one I could follow during a fight, but now my father was shouting too.
“You can’t take them from me! You just want to make them hate me! I bet you tell them stories about me that aren’t true! You’re the sick person!” he shouted. Back then, I didn’t realize at all what was happening. After this day I had blamed my mom for months for chasing my dad away. It was only when I was older that I learned that he had left us.
“No, I just want you to take care of your family!” my mom screamed. “We can’t live without you paying the alimony! And before you do that, you don’t get to see them.”
And then he left. He just left. Without warning, without saying goodbye to us. He just left. And he never came back.
That year I had wrote him a letter, on which he never responded. I even made him a father’s day present at school. I had kept it inside my closet for days, in hope he would come back. Hoping that he would just show up and take us to the zoo or something. But he never did.
I drank up the entire bottle of beer, but as soon as my thirst was becoming less, my face became more painful. I put the empty bottle down and dragged both of my trembling hands over my face. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“Are you okay?” Mike asked. He sounded both confused and worried. I wanted to shout at him again, letting out my anger on him. But I knew that if I let out the anger felt towards my father, I would probably go nuts.
I didn’t move my hands from my face as I tried to contain myself. Luckily the sad feeling ebbed away and with that my anger too. For some reason sadness always came with anger for me. I hated it. It made me feel like the freaking hulk.
I moved my hands away from my face and let out a breath. I tried purposely not to look at Mike. “Yeah, I’m alright.” I mumbled.
“Are you sure? You don’t look-“
“Drop it, Mike!” I snapped at him. I didn’t want to, but it just came out like that.
“Why are you always mad at me?” He said a little bit louder. “All I want is to help you. All I want is for us to have a normal fucking time in here and be nice to you.”
I saw him breathing heavily in the corner of my eyes. I was so physically and mentally exhausted that I didn’t have control over what I said after that. “And all I want is for you to leave me alone!” I screamed at him. “I just want you to stop being my friend! I don’t want to trust you! I don’t want to like you! I don’t want to open up to you! I don’t want to feel attracted to you. But for some stupid fucking reason all these things happen, no matter how hard I try to keep them out!”
I immediately regretted it after I had said it. It meant that I couldn’t fool him anymore by acting bitchy towards him. My breathing was a little heavy because of the screaming.
I forced myself to look inside his eyes. He looked surprised, but there was also something I couldn’t quite make out. Pity maybe?
We remained quiet like that for a while, just staring at each other. I realized that I had opened up to a complete stranger. But he wasn’t really a stranger anymore, was he? It felt like I had known him for so long already, in reality it wasn’t even half a day.
I wanted him to stop looking at me. I felt embarrassed and I wanted him to look away, but he didn’t. He just kept staring at me.
Eventually I got sick of the tension between us and I decided to do something about it. I probably wouldn’t have done this, wouldn’t it be for the alcohol in my blood and the lack of sleep, but I threw my arms around his neck and pressed my lips against his.
He immediately answered, kissing me passionately. His hands moved to the back of my neck, moving me a little closer. I climbed onto his lap, not wanting to leave any space between us. I got totally lost in his kiss, my chest pressed to his. I didn’t realize what I was doing, I just acted without thinking and I was just hoping that regret wouldn’t kick in soon. Mostly because I liked it too much. Good shivers climbed to every inch of my body.
As our lips parted, it had felt like hours had passed. We looked into each other’s eyes and slowly a grin appeared on his face. “I thought I wasn’t your type?” He asked, amused by his own statement.
I smiled at him. “Shut up.” I laughed as I closed the distance between us again. As our lips touched again I felt a certain relieve. I felt his hand place on my back and glide to the hem of it, leaving little goosebumps on the skin under my shirt. Without realizing it, my shirt had left my body, laying useless on the other side of the elevator.
He moved me down, so I was on my back and he hoovered over me. He left little kisses from my jaw, to my collarbone, to my stomach.
I grabbed his hair, that had appeared underneath his snapback and pulled him up again. Kissing his lips again. I moved my hands the hem of his shirt and moved it over his body, our lips only parting for a split second to pull it over his head. I threw it towards my own shirt and moved my hands to his chest, moving them over it. A moan escaped his lips and I smiled under my breath.
Suddenly the elevator started shaking, like shocks were being send through the thing. We pulled away our lips, but Mike protectively threw his arms around my body. My heart skipped a beat, but before I had realized what was happing, it was already over.
The shaking had stopped and I heard footsteps coming from behind the doors of the elevator. “Shit!” I heard a man say. “Caroline! The elevator ain’t working.” And then a man and a woman started arguing. I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying.
I moved myself away from Mike, trying to push away the realization that I had almost slept with him. I stood up and walked towards the doors of the elevator.
I looked up, because the voice of the man had come from above us, like the elevator was stuck between two floors. “Hello?!” I screamed.
The footsteps stopped and a silence fell between the two people behind the door. Just when I thought they hadn’t heard me, the man yelled back: “is someone in there?!”

Notes

Heyy guys!

Ha! so I really like writing Mike and Amara's little love-hate relationship. But I think it gets time for them to not leave away they hate part ;) at least for a while...

So yeah, we're halfway my short story. Well it's a short story compared to my other story, but yeah. This story is probably going to have between twelve and fifteen chapters. And the last one is probably going to take place outside the elevator.

Oh! and I also discovered that I use the word 'slowly' too much in my stories! XD I don't realise it, but I use it a lot. The words just gives a little tension to the scene I guess haha

So what did you guys think?

You know what I also realized? I have used a lot of the vampire diaries names without realizing. Amara, Caroline, Elijah…oh well

xxxxx

Nicky