3
905 Words
"This is wrong on so many levels.” declared Ryan with his eyes fixated on the ceiling, walking Z in his arms to the bedroom “are you sure you’re not crippled?” He paused so she could reach out and open the door.
“Now that you mentioned it, I think I can now feel my leg- oof” her statement was interrupted as he threw her on the bed.
“Good. Get dressed” he replied through gritted teeth and swiftly walked out.
Ryan blankly stared at the fully decorated Christmas tree in front of him. Thinking back to when he and Armand decorated it. He wasn’t having an episode then Armand just suggested it, saying even an escape space needed to look Christmassy. He smiled at the memory as he went to adjust a crocked porcelain dove.
“Who has an ugly decorated Christmas tree in the living room in the middle of April?” Z’s voice came from behind immediately, making his smile morph into a scowl. Why was he keeping up with her bullshit again, he wondered.
“My boyfriend and I decorated this, so no, it’s far from ugly. Besides, what do you know?” he added the last part shooting her a glare
“Is he sick?” she casually asked.
Ryan furrowed his brows in confusion.
“Is he ill, mentally? She pressed on.
Ryan frowned.“What the hell is wrong with you?”
“I want to know if he’s got some mental disorder like neurosis or psychosis so I could apologize for insulting his work.” she shrugged.
“Armand is perfectly fine” he snapped,
“Ar-Mand” she slowly spoke, as if trying the name on her tongue “is his face as nice as his name?” she smiled at him.
Ryan rolled his eyes, taking a seat under the tree, letting silence envelop them.
“I’m bored”, Z finally declared after about a minute. “hey you” she called Hey.
“It’s Ryan”
“Well, Ryan, I’m bored.”
“I heard you the first time”
“Well?”
“What am I supposed to-” he paused to look at the wall clock as an idea came to him. The time was just a few minutes until 12 noon. He wondered how time went so fast. Was time supposed to fly so fast if one found himself in the first level of hell with a second-class demon who wouldn’t shut up. “Come on, we’re going out”, he said, grabbing his coat.
“Oh? where to” she beamed
“The station”
“Like hell we are” she yelled, retracing her steps “I did nothing” she declared, then paused “nothing you can prove - you can’t right?” she quickly added the last part.
Ryan stared at her with wide saucer eyes, beginning to question letting her into his house. “I’m just taking you to identify yourself or something. Just in case your relatives or friends declare you missing.”
“Oh” she breathed out “I’m cool with that.”
“Unless - they aren’t the ones who tossed you into the ocean, are they?”
“I wasn’t tossed, I was pushed” she ignored the question already heading for the door.
They got into the convertible, Ryan drove around, but they never made it to the station, since Z got excited on seeing a seemingly empty fair, which after much debating, which included a lot of curse words and Z tackling Ryan to get a hold of the wheels, he caved (mostly out of love for his life) which is how they ended up on the Ferris wheel till the sun began to rear its head back into hiding.
With a lazy yet satisfied smile on her face, she leaned back against the leather seat as Ryan drove back to the house.
Pushing the door open, she made a straight line for the kitchen, coming out less than a minute later with a bottle of wine and two champagne glasses.
“Did you seriously go through my kitchen?” which reminded him he hadn’t eaten anything other than the midnight soda, and he was surprisingly not hungry. And he assumes neither was z because he could bet she definitely have made that known.
“It’s just wine. . It wasn’t hard to find”. She sat next to Ryan on the arm of the sofa.
“Are you here to kill me or something” he blurted out.
“What?” she unscrewed the cork.
“You’re acting way too familiar and comfortable in a stranger’s house you just met with no intention of hooking up with.”
“First of all, it’s almost been a day and secondly, you did save me” she handed him a glass, filling it up. “so you can’t be a murderer. Except you saved me so you could kill me yourself, which is unlikely” she concluded with a smile, taking a sip.
“Well, you could be a murderer” he stated.
“True. But if I wanted to kill you, you'd be dead by now. So”
“Maybe you want to kill me right before you leave” he argued.
“Hmm, well, I guess we’ll see” she winked.
- Writer
