SHIN
If laziness were to be embodied into a picture, the evening we woke up to would be it.
We don't know how the morning surpassed because when we woke up the sun was at its peak, getting ready to set. Lee walked out the room half-dazed as I was out in the living area with my phone in the clutch-
"I am ordering pizza, you fine with it?" I ask, scrolling through the app for the options.
"Yeah" hoarse he yawned, a sign of awakeness "I like pineapples on top though"
Don't judge.
Grunting under my breath I wanted to spare him the deprecating glance because I believed in opinions. But I failed-
He had a fat smile awaiting me. How was he so happy? Is that how people who like pineapple on pizza looks? So surreal?
Even if so- I won't have it even if there was a gun pointed at my head to carry out the offense. The violation of breaching a law. A law where cheese was contaminated by something so-so-
"It's okay. I get that look often" he cracks his knuckles and styles his hair "it's three-thirty? we were asleep for so long?" He mumbles checking his phone then he checks me.
Not we. He was. I woke up at intervals where I found us tangled together, so to avoid facing the embarrassment I forced myself back to sleep so he can wake up first and I can pretend to sleep still.
We could have avoided it smoothly, but he had to wake up first and nudge me awake, mentioning that I was sleeping in his bicep and how it was cutting out his blood flow.
He could've pushed me, punched me. But he had to make a PowerPoint context out of it to describe my skulls weight on him. How long was he awake before he decided that I should know about him clotting because he unconsciously decided that I was a koala and wanted to hug me in his sleep.
Which inspired me
That I should perhaps quit being nice to him if he was going to treat me like one of his dudes. Not girls, but dudes. So I ordered myself a few more treats and one small pizza for him.
While we sat to eat, and as I kept opening the boxes his smile fell.
"What are you having?" He asked, quizzical.
Inspecting each of the cartons I pick them.
"Cheeseburger, bagels, coke, and a banoffee pie. Oh yeah, a bag of onion rings as well" listing, I smugly bite on, each at a time.
"You'll be able to eat all that?" Should I consider that to be sexist?
"Mmmm"
"Great" disappointed he eats his pizza as I scrunch my nose, chewing. He rolls his eyes at the visible revulsion from me. However, we don't. still in silence, it felt as if he wasn't accustomed to a quiescent atmosphere.
"I think I've learned rnd my lesson" he cleared his throat.
Booting and rebooting my social techniques I tilt my head with incoherent regard.
"And what would that be?" It comes out scratchy, any introvert's nightmare when they speak when not wishing of a conversation at all. I soothe my throat by sipping on water. It was gentlemanly of him to wait as I compiled.
He slides the box of pizza aside and interlaces his fingers togeather. Sitting straighter. Sharper
What was he negotiating?
"I should've shared the nuggets with you"
Oh heavens.
No.
He can't.
It'll thrust me into reconciling my deeds. Into overthinking each and every conversation to see if I had been bad to him. Or should I quote a 'bitch'.
Although I wouldn't have done him any harm, I can convince my mind to trick itself- I believe I can be a criminal with no crime in record.
"No, you shouldn't" I press.
He watched me stoically, nodding sideways. Declining my advice.
"I don't know what I was thinking, but I was extremely hungry and-
"You are bluffing, you sh-
"It happens. Type one diabetic for years and yet I give into the cravings"
The minutes that followed were empty. None of us spoke until I realized he was waiting for me to ascend.
So I ask.
"You are diabetic?"
That wasn't a necessity. But I can overthink about it at night how I had asked him an apparent question when he had it revealed precisely.
He smiles, and he should smile less- it's frustrating how he is so easy on eyes and in personality, it makes me forge my temperament to the likes of his.
"Why do you think I am so sweet?" He wiggles his brows, I dislike his lenience more by the second "I've had it since I was thirteen so it isn't a big deal. I am used to it by now"
Used to it?
He was.
I wasn't.
As I gnawed at my lips stressing, in a flash his demeanor morphed and he waved furiously.
"Quite the pity"
"I am not pitying you"
"Then what's that I see in your face?" His tone went a notch deep, it the first wise it happened. A intonation that indicated he solemnly disliked being pitied.
With Wit. I begged my innate vocabularies for it. And it provided me with
"Beauty?"
With risk I held his stare, his blatant nothingness crumbles and he, with much contemplation, took my admission into account.
"So, you are not sympathizing with me?" He reminded me I played with the skeletal bracelet that hung by my wrist beneath the table "is it because I didn't share the nuggets?"
He- was, he was unbelievable.
"You are manipulating me" arguing I cemented my notion, the home shoes tapping restlessly by the floor where he can't see.
"I am not. You are just different than other girls. It surprises me"
Oh, here it goes.
"I am like every other girl Lee. It's the strategy of how we express our emotions that's diverse" emphasizing I fought against stereotyping sexism. But what I failed to expect was-
"How you defend a gender is what makes you unusual, I think it's fine to be rare. I am not like many men out there- but I am happy how I turned out" when he sat back relaxed and tore through the pizza- I know what he meant. He depicts what he deciphered.
"Fine"
I announce.
"What for?" He plays innocent by batting his lashes, though the mischief
Dripped in his utterance.
"Is this all for some bagels?" Cupping my elbow I affirmed. "The compliments?"
He eyed the bag with fondness, then he traded his glances around his options. Finally, he grins, it even excites me to punch thyself in the face as he confides-
"Bagels and onion rings"
***
If the phrase actively functional was a person, it would be Lee. In the meager period of half an evening with him under the roof, I subconsciously took into account that he just can't sit still when he had nothing to do or somewhere to be.
He could swing by and explore the world out there- but when asked, he gloomily mumbled something about paparazzi and how they will expect him to be with or be seen with his new bride instead of alone customizing sugar and gluten-free candies out there.
He tapped his legs as he watched me smash my keyboard accompanied by a stony aura.
"What are you doing?" A keyboard smash appeared on Mac's screen as I got deflected by him.
"Typing?"
"Why is that a question?"
I thought of it, it logically shouldn't have been dubious. But my lack of corelating with given query was too obvious for him. He oddly was smart to notice it.
"I don't know" I shrug. He sighed- it was positive. As if he was tired of me but he understood.
"You are an exclusive kind of introvert" he played with the paperweight on the study table, on who's the chair he sat- "it will be easier if you open up a little. I don't mind a new friend. I never mind a new addition"
He tossed the pebble, catching once and repeating beside. But then, the vital segment of his utterance enticed my hearing.
I don't mind a new friend.
He had brought this up during the initial family dinner as well. Was he so sure that we could connect the manner an ally does?
"We can't force a friendship to happen" wisely I jut my chin out, I believe I have a better understanding of human emotions and relationships than he does. A writer- unknowingly has the ability to know how the lineage works. It's how they bond with their readers because they were once a reader too. So when I saw him smirk, impressed. I continued. "It'll happen if it's meant to be"
Then my blood rushes everywhere, in nooks and corners as I burn up with the heat of verbally illustrating my point across to a man who seem to know what to do every time we speak when I honestly don't.
I breathe. He sits there still flinging that damn stationery statically. Then finally says-
"Woah"
He drawls it out like a toddler who has seen iron man accustom his iron suit for the first time.
I see why Dad addressed him as a man slash boy. He reduces his personality to fit just about anything.
"You have a smart and psychological mind. You should give a shot at writing- become a scriptwriter or something" he suggests. I nod. But then-
Wait!
"Lee"
His name suits him. Neat and alluring. I won't admit it ever to his face though.
"Yes?" He balmed his enthusiasm on me as I crossed my arms, shutting the laptop for the night.
"What's your profession?" He blinks, but the passiveness was absent when he rocked slowly in the swivel chair.
"You don't know?" Why was he so surprised?
"You work for your father, its the default I assumed"
His brows shot up, not in rapid gesture. But as if it amused him.
"I do work for him, but I used to practice a different domain. It didn't work out though" he turned his back to me by making a quarter circle with the chair. The dip in his emotion was minor- but it was there. So when he sneakily turned again with a butt hurt dramatization. I arched my own brow.
"So you married me without even making a trip to google?"
Seriously this man is not getting it. Why was he least bit offended when he knew that this was a deal-
"What do you know about me?" Throwing it at him I puckered my lips smugly. Watching the confidence dim out in his face. He drops the page stopper on the metal flask and scooted in one clean swipe. Until our knees were inches apart.
"You are the princess of your family. Until you weren't. you were forced to carry out a family legacy so you were thrown into this alliance business so our parents could feed off each other's revenues"
It must disturbs me, or worse I should feel humiliated of how low his imaginations worked on. I won't blame him since I was twenty-two and not most under my age manages to succeed in their career as I did. But even I was mere a Google search away.
I should be offended. But no. The way he was so assured of it- I felt the ounce of laugh bubble through my chest until I was giggling, mockingly.
"I am right aren't I?" He winks, his eyes shining perkily. I roll my eyes and wave at him.
"You are dramatic" I sniffed, containing the mirth "What genre of books do you read to even assemble such fantasy?"
I wasn't expecting him to answer it. But he does-
"I took an oath to never read after I read an awful one" looking low at his lap as if recalling a trauma, he spits out the sentence with so much malice that I had to know more.
"What book was it?" Spreading the nonchalance card I pry. But I was not prepared for what came next.
"Oh trust me. Your noble and naive heart won't take the amount of bloodshed and betrayals" he starts off hauntingly "The writer calls itself Elixir. Let's call it- it because whoever it is, is a monster. The hardcopy was retailing like a hot cake in the market and I had to know what the commotion was all about. I was left angry and bitter for the days to come after I finished it"
If to be monitored by a blood pulse electricon, I bet mine would be shooting higher than then average bar.
Elixir?
Monster?
Did he just call me a monster?
"But I bet there was something about it that people liked. I mean you told me yourself that it was a charting one" Pathetically I soothe the wound my pride was cut through with as he snorts despisingly.
"The book is an art though. Perfectly crafted characters and crammed with an intense, fierce plot. But what's the use- it's like the author hates her creation. Killing them all as if it won't affect the readers"Â each stab, with each criticism I was stabbed till my self-esteem and bravery was a pool of useless muck on the ground. For the final product, I ask in a small detached voice. With a hope that he was considerate-
"What will you advice the writer with if you ever got to meet her?"
He doesn't notice the her that I slipped in. But glad he was a balanced feminist as he sneered evilly at the thought- I swallowed my dignity.
"I won't tell- I'll threaten to shave its eyebrows off and force it to change the ending so that everyone gets to live a happily ever after"
That's it?
My trembling lips almost forms a smile when-
"After the changes are made, I'll shave the brows anyway. It deserves it"
You know the drill.
What do you think? Elixir huh?ð