Roses and Thorns
Come In, Please. (20th Chapter)
…Three Weeks Later…
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Janelle's POV:
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My eyes feel like being roasted over flames. I have been working non-stop for the past three weeks, distracting myself from the knifes of my inner agony. If there weren’t any work left, I would double-check my editing. I would reread the stories, just to keep my mind busy.
Did it work? In some matter, it did; but deep down I know that all what I am doing is useless. I can’t hide from reality, or from what happened. I broke Zayn, and he did the same to me. We couldn’t be together, not now. Maybe we did have shot back in college, but I am still to be blamed for that. I was the one that kept my mouth shut, and this is my lifelong punishment. But so did he, so I guess we both are being punished.
I bend my fingers together, and crack them to detox the physical stress. My office phone rings all of a sudden, and I hurry to pick up the handle. “Jan, darling. There is this young man here; he claims that he needs to see you urgently.” Huh? I don’t recall setting up any appointments for today. “Um, could you describe him for me, please? Like what does he look like?” I ask to make sure if I may know him or not.
“(She whispers) Well… He’s tall, about your height. He’s got a well-shaped beard, some tattoos on his arms. He has beautiful eyes just like the colour of-…” I interrupt her, by finishing her unspoken word: “Caramel, right?” Once she hears my reply, she laughs a little. “Since you seem to know him, shall I let him in?” I sigh, really not wanting to see him, but I surrender; how bad could it be? “Yeah, he’s alright.”
I close the phone, as I find myself fixing my eyeglasses on my face (http://www.polyvore.com/sophisticated_brainy/set?id=119716101&lid=3453986). What am I doing? As if he still cares if I look presentable. I straighten my sitting posture, and cross one leg over the other. Even though he may not be able to see the formation, it still gives me a little-lady confidence; which I massively need right now.
He knocks on my door, and I announce as calm as possible: “Come in, please.” The doorknob slides down, revealing the person of this surprise visit. He enters the room, and I wave my hand politely, emphasizing for him to take the seat opposite of mine. He nods with no words yet, as his dreamy figure slides on the leather chair. “Hello.” He starts, and I nod back not wanting to talk to him.
“(He feels awkward, and doesn’t really know what to say to carry on the dead conversation) How are you?” I cross my arms sternly, as I lean on my elbows at the desk. “Fine.” He shocks me by smirking, as he proceeds: “I’m not, but thanks for asking in reply.” I huff in silence, rubbing my temple a little. “Listen, I don’t know why you even came all the way here. But if it is to be sarcastic, then don’t waste yo-…” He cuts me off by stating: “I love you.” and I shrug, pretending it meant nothing to me. But deep down, my organs are dancing to a classical love song by Sir Elton John.
“You don’t mean that. (I shake my head) You love who you choose to be your life partner, isn’t that what the standards are about?” He doesn’t seem to budge, and yet again he replies: “I love you.” I scoff, and he surprises me by playfully snorting right back. I find it hard to laugh, and once I do; he waits no longer to join in. We laugh so much for a decent time, but my laughs descend, changing slowly into sobs.
He jumps from his seat, and hovers his arms around me, crouching on his knees to hug my body. I push him away, and he mutters desperately:“Stop pushing me away, Elle. You want me, and you love me… (His head tilts low slowly, as he whispers sadly) Don’t you love me anymore…?” Is he serious right now?
.........................
Janelle's POV:
.........................
My eyes feel like being roasted over flames. I have been working non-stop for the past three weeks, distracting myself from the knifes of my inner agony. If there weren’t any work left, I would double-check my editing. I would reread the stories, just to keep my mind busy.
Did it work? In some matter, it did; but deep down I know that all what I am doing is useless. I can’t hide from reality, or from what happened. I broke Zayn, and he did the same to me. We couldn’t be together, not now. Maybe we did have shot back in college, but I am still to be blamed for that. I was the one that kept my mouth shut, and this is my lifelong punishment. But so did he, so I guess we both are being punished.
I bend my fingers together, and crack them to detox the physical stress. My office phone rings all of a sudden, and I hurry to pick up the handle. “Jan, darling. There is this young man here; he claims that he needs to see you urgently.” Huh? I don’t recall setting up any appointments for today. “Um, could you describe him for me, please? Like what does he look like?” I ask to make sure if I may know him or not.
“(She whispers) Well… He’s tall, about your height. He’s got a well-shaped beard, some tattoos on his arms. He has beautiful eyes just like the colour of-…” I interrupt her, by finishing her unspoken word: “Caramel, right?” Once she hears my reply, she laughs a little. “Since you seem to know him, shall I let him in?” I sigh, really not wanting to see him, but I surrender; how bad could it be? “Yeah, he’s alright.”
I close the phone, as I find myself fixing my eyeglasses on my face (http://www.polyvore.com/sophisticated_brainy/set?id=119716101&lid=3453986). What am I doing? As if he still cares if I look presentable. I straighten my sitting posture, and cross one leg over the other. Even though he may not be able to see the formation, it still gives me a little-lady confidence; which I massively need right now.
He knocks on my door, and I announce as calm as possible: “Come in, please.” The doorknob slides down, revealing the person of this surprise visit. He enters the room, and I wave my hand politely, emphasizing for him to take the seat opposite of mine. He nods with no words yet, as his dreamy figure slides on the leather chair. “Hello.” He starts, and I nod back not wanting to talk to him.
“(He feels awkward, and doesn’t really know what to say to carry on the dead conversation) How are you?” I cross my arms sternly, as I lean on my elbows at the desk. “Fine.” He shocks me by smirking, as he proceeds: “I’m not, but thanks for asking in reply.” I huff in silence, rubbing my temple a little. “Listen, I don’t know why you even came all the way here. But if it is to be sarcastic, then don’t waste yo-…” He cuts me off by stating: “I love you.” and I shrug, pretending it meant nothing to me. But deep down, my organs are dancing to a classical love song by Sir Elton John.
“You don’t mean that. (I shake my head) You love who you choose to be your life partner, isn’t that what the standards are about?” He doesn’t seem to budge, and yet again he replies: “I love you.” I scoff, and he surprises me by playfully snorting right back. I find it hard to laugh, and once I do; he waits no longer to join in. We laugh so much for a decent time, but my laughs descend, changing slowly into sobs.
He jumps from his seat, and hovers his arms around me, crouching on his knees to hug my body. I push him away, and he mutters desperately:“Stop pushing me away, Elle. You want me, and you love me… (His head tilts low slowly, as he whispers sadly) Don’t you love me anymore…?” Is he serious right now?
Notes
Don't stop now, just:
KEEP READING HONEYS <3 :D xx
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*Feel Free to COMMENT about your questions and your thoughts whenever you want <3*
the funny part is that my name is Serenity
In chapter 44
11/22/14