Hands touch, eyes meet
Sudden silence, sudden heat
In one frenzied motion, his hand caught the calloused vinyl handle of my purse. While seconds previously I had been in a rush to leave, I was now jerked wildly back to reality, colliding haphazardly with his rigid chest muscles. The bag split gracefully down a seam, flinging through the doorway. Items sprinkled unevenly over the obsessively clean foyer, like the season's first snowfall. My eyes followed in horror as a single paper fluttered towards his feet. I gaped wide-eyed as my stomach churned uneasily.
"Jude, I'm…" He whispered apologetically, bending over quickly to retrieve the document.
"Wait." I hissed halfheartedly, dropping to my knees and groping blindly towards his shoes. My finger caught the article, as did his. Breath hitched in my throat as our digits brushed. His eyes moved to mine and my mind went numb, sending the signal to relinquish my grip. He brought the expose close to his eyes in the faint darkness. The room was draped in an eerie quiet as he scanned.
Hearts leap in a giddy whirl
He could be that boy
But I'm not that girl:
My eyes fluttered listlessly upon everything but him, determined to find an escape route. Just as I decided on catapulting through the kitchen sink window, two strong hands grasped my shoulders, pulling forcefully until I was supported by my own two feet.
"Jude, look at me." He commanded.
I scoffed, cocking my wrist in disgust. Seconds later, a rouge burn on his left temple appeared where my hand had berated it. "I don't have to do anything for you." I hissed. Disregarding the hovel, I bravely stepped across the floor in an attempt to make my way to the door. With a groan, he pushed his way in front, beating me to the door and locking it in triumph.
"We need to talk."
"You need to move before I scream." My eyes grew hot, moistening with every passing moment.
"No, we're going to talk." His voice grew steadily higher, stressing his frustration. "And, we're going to start with why the hell," He paused for dramatic effect, "You would hide this." He brandished the paper, and I swallowed thickly.
"It's not your business." I mumbled, counting the threads in his sweater.
"Don't. Even. Go. There."
Trembling now, I barely managed a retort. "It stopped being your business exactly two years ago, Tom." He squinted at me through the darkness, so I elaborated. "Why are you even standing here, with me right now?"
Moving away from the door, he tentatively began to approach. "You know exactly why."
I gasped, blinking at him in disbelief. "No, pray tell. Enlighten me." Menace dripped from my barely audible undertone.
I blinked.
Next second, I was pinned against a bare wall, a pair of bent legs chaining my flailing stems. His fingers lazily intertwined with mine, and he brought one of my hands to rest on his slackened bottom lip.
His humid breath tickled against my frigid fingers as he sighed. "I'm in love with you, that's why."
I tilted my head to the side, scrutinizing him thoroughly. My throat itched to bellow that he was on something, that he didn't really mean it. But, no sound uttered past my lips, no objection to this sin we were engaging in.
His lips brushed mine for one feverish millisecond. My body seemed to be lost in the moment, but my mind commanded sanity. It didn't take long for the two forces to find a balance. I skillfully pushed his chest authoritatively, catching him off guard. He stumbled backwards, slipping on a stray tube of lipstick.
Don't dream too far
Don't lose sight of who you are
"Jude." He pleaded softly. No other words passed his lips as he climbed shakily to his feet. He merely plastered me with a hard, emotion filled stare.
"Stop." My voice cracked as I ran a hand through my hair. "Stop using my name as if you own me. Stop believing that every time you touch me, I'll disregard the fact that I'm only second best. And stop making me want to be your one and only until death do us part, and all that other absolute bull!"
For a moment, I thought he was going to reprimand me for my outburst, warn me that she might overhear. But, his features remained stoic. He watched me, radiating an expression of confusion. "It's not bull." He mumbled finally.
I scoffed, unbelieving. "How can you say that? Do you have no shame?" He hung his head guiltily, nodding slightly. For a moment, empathy filled me. I felt bad for this situation he was pressed with. But, needless to say, the emotion didn't last.
"I never wanted to marry her." He stated dejectedly, turning his back to me. He paced down the hallway, turning on his heel abruptly, paused at a doorway. I remained stationary.
Not That Girl is a song from the musical Wicked. This is a fewshot I promised to one of my very best friends about a year ago, and am just now getting around to almost, kind of being close to finished with it. It's my baby. I hope you all enjoy, and I expect there to be about three more posts after this!
Review now, you here! Feed my muse, and I may just give you another installment sooner.
3Ty
