If The World Was Ending

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Day Three 6:00pm

Chapter 9:

Day Three 6:00 pm

After yet another game victory, I throw my games controller to the other side of my bed. Its dark grey covers crease around it.

It’s taking every bone in my body for me not to go and check on Mila. I haven’t heard from her in hours. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m lonely alongside the added pressure of having limited time left but I feel compelled to be around her. To have someone else in my company, to avoid the darkness.

There’s something about Mila that I can’t put my finger on. She’s been a puzzle from the beginning and problem solving is definitely my forte. Whether it’s because she’s always disliked me which has made me so determined to convince her otherwise. I love winding her up and seeing her get worked up, both because it makes me laugh and it also makes her look crazy hot.

From the day I saw her move in, I knew we’d be different. She had this look in her eye which was completely different to the looks I get from every other girl. Her hostility has become a game I like to play with; throwing her the bait to frustrate her and waiting for her to fall for it. Her quiet and mysterious ways added to her silent beauty and transfixed me into getting to know her more.

She’s the hardest drug to resist and she doesn’t even know it.

Something seemed up with her this morning, she looked stressed. I was on a comedown so we were equally grumpy but she seemed more closed than usual. I hope it’s a one-off because I’ve started to gain her trust over the past few days and I’d hate for that all to end now.

Perhaps she had a bad night, I mean Harry wasn’t there this morning which was a dick move. To be honest, it can’t have been much worse than mine. Summer whined and was her usual needy self. I’ve told her a thousand times that we’re not meant to be and we will never work out yet she always manages to worm her way back in.

Sex for Summer and I is to please her. I’ve never felt a serious connection with any of the girls I’ve slept with and I think the realization that I probably never will lead me to bring Summer home last night.

Throwing on a pair of joggers, I take my dirty dishes to the sink. I heard Mila come home a few hours ago from wherever she’d been but the daily smell of her cooking hasn’t drifted over to my apartment meaning that she hasn’t eaten yet.

I thought I’d give her from space but I’m worried that somethings up.

Locking my door behind me, I place myself in front of Mila’s apartment door and lightly knock twice.

As the door swings open, Mila stands infront of me. Her eyes teared stained, coinciding with her puffy eyelids. Her usually perfectly groomed hair has been thrown up into a bun yet strands hung loosely due to its shorter length. Even her usual edgy fashion sense has been replaced with stained, baggy clothing.

“Mila?” I ask, watching her attempt to hold back tears.

“Are you okay?” I ask again after failing to receive an answer.

She nods at me before the first of a flurry of tears escape her gloomy eyes. Without hesitation, I step into her apartment, pulling her into my chest. With my left hand caressing her back, my right holds her head as she sobs into my shirt.

For a short period of time, we stand in silence as I let her get it all out. I don’t dare to ask a question, instead just holding her and comforting her in the best way I know I can.

A week ago, being comforted by me would’ve been her worst nightmare but right now she needs someone and that someone just so happens to be me.

“Let’s sit on the couch.” I whisper, letting go of her gently.

I take her hand, leading her to sit down. Concern painted across my face as I watch her sniffle into a tissue which no doubt would end up amongst the pile of scrunched up, wet tissues on the floor.

“Hey, speak to me.” I beckon, my thumb reaching out to wipe a stray tear from her flushed cheeks.

“It’s my mom.” Her weak voice answers.

“Your mom?” I reply.

I’ve never heard Mila mention her family nor have I ever seen anyone older than the age of 25 stop by. I thought she didn’t speak to her family, just like me.

“Yeah. There’s things I’ve never told you Warner.” She looks away from my eyes.

“Well, can you tell me now?” I step carefully with my words.

“Gosh it’s a long story, I wouldn’t even know where to begin.” She sighs.

“I have time to kill right now, as long as this story won’t take any longer than seven days.” I joke, resting my feet on her coffee table, shuffling to get comfortable.

Mila throws me an irritated look at my relaxed posture before a small laugh dares to break free. She hates how calm I can be yet I can tell that somewhere deep down, it entertains her.

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