Chapter 16: Tricks (Wabara’s POV)
I came back with everything she asked for in a plastic bag and two slushies in my hand. Red for her, blue for me. But when I walked in, she was gone. I kicked my shoes off and then noticed hers were still there. So she didn’t leave. “Indigo!” I listened for her reply but I didn’t get one. I frowned in confusion and then went into my room. I pushed the door open and froze in the doorway.
What the fuck?
“Hi,” she smiled, glancing at me. She was standing there in nothing but a towel and looking through my closet. She then grabbed my shirt, my sweatpants, my socks and then went back into the bathroom.
What is she doing? She doesn’t own the damn place, why is she just taking my things?
The door opened up after a while and she came out with towel-dried hair and my clothes on her body, fitting very loosely. She stood in front of me and pecked my lips while taking the bag from me. She gasped, “Slushie!” She took the red one, the straw immediately falling between her lips. She smiled at me and left the bag on the kitchen counter, brushing past me.
I followed her out, watching her with utter confusion. “Indie.”
“Yes?”
I watched as she opened cabinets, looking for something to eat. “What are you doing?” I asked, walking over to her. I put the slushie down, almost glaring at her.
“What am I doing?” She opened another cabinet.
I slammed it shut.
She jumped, looking at me. “What?”
“You’re acting like you own the place.”
“Should I ask for your permission before finding something to eat?” she snorted.
“Who said you could wear my clothes?”
“You did, actually. At the mall.” She slurped her drink, looking at me innocently. She then turned to the bag and looked inside. “Do you mind if I leave one of each here? Just in case I get my period while I’m here?”
I looked at her in disbelief. “You want to leave a pad and tampon here for yourself?”
She nodded.
“Um,” I stuttered.
“Thanks,” she grinned, pecking my lips again.
What is she doing? What the hell is she doing?
She’s acting… What’s the word? She’s being… clingy. That’s it. She’s being dramatically clingy. Drastically different from what she was when I left a little while ago.
“You showered,” I mumbled, smelling my soap on her.
“Yeah, why?” she mumbled, poking the shaved ice and then slurping it down.
I pulled the cup away from her lips and she choked a little, looking up at me.
“What?”
I put the cup down beside mine and trapped her between me and the counter. I hate clingy. Clingy pisses me off. Clingy is something I don’t want. Indie is what I want. But she’s making me doubt that by acting clingy.
She pulled herself up on the counter and I stepped back, only for her to grab my shirt and pull me closer, wrapping her legs around my torso, securing them there. She put her arms around my neck. “What?” She tilted her head to one side, almost talking in a puppy voice.
“Stop it,” I blurted out.
“Stop what?” She laughed softly. “Are you okay?”
Am I okay? Did she really just ask me that?