Author's Note: This may not be the best because I am suffering from a case of writer's block, but we'll see how it goes. This chapter maybe the worst or it could be the best. Keep checking back for edits on this chapter, just in case I decided to scrap it and go with something else. Side note: If I get any previous details wrong please tell me, I haven't worked on this story in a while so my memory of what I wrote may be wrong and there may be discrepancies that I will fix. Thanks and ENJOY!
LightestStars: Thanks for the suggestion. I think I wanted them to emote as little emotion as possible because I feel that it'd be really awkward to text each other and they wouldn't know exactly what to say, but I'll work on making them friendlier if I use another texting dialogue. Thanks!
The pair made their way quietly up the stairs to Riven's apartment. He held the beer in his right hand and it keep swinging back and forth, occasionally hitting his thigh. Once they reached his apartment door, Riven reached into his pocket and took out the key. The key hung from a red lanyard. He slipped it into the lock and turned, opening the door. Without saying a word, he gestured with his hand for her to go first. She had never really been over at his place, only coming over there to pick up Darcy when Darcy's car was broken.
Musa slowly made her way into the apartment and looked around. It was a small one person flat, but despite not being large it was charming. She walked over to the couch and sat down. He followed her and set the pack of beer on the table. Riven then continued on to the kitchen to grab a bottle opener. While he was rummaging around in the kitchen, Musa leaned over and grabbed one of the beers from the cardboard carrier. She was really craving alcohol and after all she had been through she felt that she deserved it.
"Here," Riven mumbled, coming back with the bottle opener.
"Thanks," Musa said, taking it from his outstretched hand. He sat down next to her on the couch and grabbed his own bottle of beer.
"So what did you want to talk about?" Musa asked, turning to look at him. It was the first time she actually looked him head on that night. He seemed like himself, but something was off and she couldn't quite put her finger on what it was. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt with cargo shorts and black and white converse.
Musa looked down at her own attire and suppressed a laugh at the way she looked. She was wearing comfy, over sized navy blue sweatpants and had on a white gym shirt.
"You'll probably be mad and won't want to talk about it," he shrugged, unsure of what her actual reaction would be.
"What is it?" she asked, wondering if she should have actually asked that question considering she had a feeling of dread.
"I want to talk about why you didn't warn me about Darcy," he turned to look at her. He felt something poke his heart, but being mostly apathetic, he wasn't sure what it was. He was in awe of her. She may have been wearing something that wasn't attractive in her eyes, but to him it made her look like the epitome of someone he would fall in love with, though he would never admit it to himself or anyone else.
"What do mean, how I didn't warn you?" Musa narrowed her eyes at him.
Riven gulped and was even more unsure of how to continue with the topic he wanted to discuss so badly.
"I mean, you were her roommate, shouldn't you have, you know, warned me about her," he mumbled in an almost inaudible voice.
"Oh don't try to pin this on me," Musa said, her voice growing cold. She took a swig from the bottle of alcohol and then looked at him again.
"I, er, I'm not trying," he stuttered.
"You're trying to pin your own failings on me. Other people warned you, didn't they? It's not like this town is that large. Besides I barely even knew you," Musa hissed. The last statement was a lie, but she figured he would never have figured it out. She knew him when they were younger. They had been neighbors and they had been playmates, but then she had moved away and they never saw each other again, until Riven had started to date Darcy.
"I didn't mean it like that," Riven sighed and drank from his own bottle.
"Well it sounded like you did mean it like that," Musa said pointedly.
"Sorry I even brought it up."
"I guess I was sorry that I was harsh, but you deserved some of it," she gave him a little smile to let him know that it didn't bother her as much as he thought it did. It annoyed her a little, but she could get past that annoyance.
"Do you feel like watching a movie?" he questioned. They had done it so many times when Darcy hadn't shown so it wasn't really weird for them.
"Sure," Musa nodded. It wasn't like she had anything better to do that late at night, plus she wasn't sure if Darcy had brought someone home or not even though she knew Musa was going to get there that night.
"Which one?" Riven asked, going over to the cabinet beneath his TV.
"Doesn't matter," Musa shrugged nonchalantly and then leaned back into the plush of the couch.
Riven popped in a random disk and went back to join her on the couch.
About two hours, a movie, and a whole ten pack, split between the pair, later both were inebriated and slightly out of it.
"Do you remember the time when, when, Darcy didn't show and we ended up going out to lunch at that, that place?" Musa hiccupped. She was more of a talkative drunk.
"Yeah, that place was awesome," Riven slurred. He, like her, was also a bit more talkative and outgoing when he was drunk.
"Then we had the competition of who could eat more and, and I beat you," Musa giggled. Her head was resting on the cushion behind her back and her feet were up on the coffee table in front of the couch. Riven was sitting next to her in the position.
"You ate like fifty plates of spaghetti that day," Riven over exaggerated a bit.
"I know," Musa garbled.
"I ate like sixty plates though," he cackled.
"No, no, no. I won that contest. I beat you and won. I beat you and I ate more food," Musa lifted her head and turned to face him. She slapped him on the arm to emphasize her point.
"You didn't win," he heaved himself into an upright sitting position.
"Yeah I did," Musa insisted, her voice stumbling over every word.
The pair was drunk beyond saving and was on its way to something happening that it would regret later.
"No," he shot back.
"Yes," she stuck her tongue out at him.
He laughed and couldn't stop his laughter as he clutched his stomach from the spasms.
"What's so funny?" she slurred.
"You're acting like a seven year old," he fell back onto the couch and started to laugh.
"Am not," Musa huffed and folded her arms across her chest. She gave her best rendition of a pouting face at him, bottom lip sticking out and all.
"Are too," he chortled.
"You're a big, a big, meany," she attempted to insult him in her inebriated state.
"You're using such big words," he laughed. Riven was not only talkative when he was drunk, but he was also sarcastic and a bit mean.
"You're a bully," she whined.
"You're a little kindergartener," he teased.
"Would a kindergartener do this?" she asked and then reached over, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulled him in close and then smashed her lips against his. At first, neither really knew what was happening and both were at a standstill with their lips pressed up against the other's lips.
Neither was sure what happened next or what compelled them to go on. Call it fate, call it a drunken state or call it whatever you feel is correct, it happened and would be forever engrained in their brains.
Riven reached his hand around to caress her neck and pried her lips open with his tongue. What began as an innocent drunken fight became a full out makeout session as he guided her to lay down on the couch, his body pressed into hers. She already had her eyes closed and removed one hand to wrap it around his broad shoulders.
In the kiss, Riven could feel the passion emanating from the girl that he was hovering over.
He slowly pulled back and brushed the hair away from Musa's face.
"I think I'm drunk," Musa hiccupped, averting her eyes to the ceiling so that she wouldn't have to look at him.
"I think I am too," he replied, but shamelessly went back in for seconds. She was caught off guard by his movement, but nonetheless allowed him to kiss her.
The next time they broke apart was due to Musa pushing softly on his chest to make him release her from his grasp. He attempted to look into her eyes to see what she was feeling, but like the first time, she averted her eyes to the ceiling.
She could feel the pressure building up in her chest. It felt like there was a volcano in her chest that would erupt at any moment. Musa felt the unsteady pounding of her heart and could feel the thumps against her ribcage.
Riven was slowly trying to catch his breath. All he could think about was her. The way she always looked like she was paying attention to everything. The way her voice sounded like the soft, calming waves of the ocean. He wasn't sure which emotion he felt as he could feel all of them at once, which overwhelmed him like a tsunami washing over him.
"I think I should go," Musa snapped him back to reality. She sounded as sober as ever and pushed him even farther away from her. Once she had heaved herself off of the couch she grabbed her belongings and made her way quickly to the door before he could stop her, leaving him to wonder what his feelings for her truly were.
Musa felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, but ignored it. The piece of technology had been going off all morning with mainly texts or phone calls from Riven. There had been a ton of messages, which led her to believe that he was seriously obsessing over what had happened while she just wanted to forget it and move on in her life. She continued attempting to convince herself that she no longer had feelings for the magenta haired male, but she couldn't completely shake the emotions she felt out of her system.
"Musa?" a voice snapped Musa from her thoughts.
"Hey," Musa turned around.
"What are you doing here?" the girl gestured at the café Musa was holed up in. It was probably the one place that Riven wouldn't have found her. The last message she had gotten was a "we need to talk" message and she definitely was not in the mood to see him, much less talk to him about the situation they had found themselves in.
"I'm just hanging and trying out some new song lyrics," Musa cheerfully replied to Layla, one of Stella's friends.
"Can I have a look?" Layla asked, coming to sit in the chair opposite of Musa's.
"Sure," Musa slid the papers to the other side of the table.
Layla carefully read the lyrics, adding in "hmms" and "uh huhs" along the way.
"I really like these," Layla said, handing them back to Musa/
"Thanks."
"Where did you get the inspiration from?" Layla wondered out loud.
"Do you mean, do I have a guy friend that I'm in love with but will never be with because he doesn't like me even though actions would speak otherwise? No, that'd be preposterous. I get my inspiration from other people's relationships I guess. I'm too big on my own love life," Musa half lied and half told the truth.
Layla let out a chuckle.
"Well, whatever you're using as inspiration, those lyrics are amazing," Layla complimented Musa.
"Thanks," Musa nodded at her table companion, "so what are you up to today?" Musa inquired.
"Nothing much. I'm getting some drinks for my co-workers," Layla shrugged nonchalantly.
"Oh, sounds fun," Musa smiled, "well don't let me keep you. I'll see you around," she bided adieu.
"See you around," Layla echoed before she got up to walk over to the counter to order her drinks.
Musa heard the bell on the door to the café ring, but continued reading the lyrics that she had written down. She looked up when she heard the chair across from her being pulled out and noticed a body sitting down in her peripheral vision.
When she saw who it was, her heart sank and started beating quicker. She could feel the emotions she was repressing start to make their way to the surface of her being.
"We need to talk," the gruff, husky voice from the male sitting across from her spoke.
"I really don't think we do," she hurriedly replied and scrambled to get her lyrics together so that he wouldn't see that what had happened between them had, indeed, been on her mind.
"Musa," he begged. He wasn't sure what they would talk about or how it would go, but something inside of him told him that they did need to have a discussion on where to go from there.
"Riven, I'm really not in the mood," Musa said, her eyes looking around the café for an escape route.
"Well get in the mood because I have been searching everywhere for you. It was just a coincidence that I needed some coffee that I came in here and found you," he told her.
She mentally cursed his need for caffeine.
"What is there to talk about?" Musa asked, playing coy and pretending nothing happened.
"You know what there is to talk about," he sighed. One of the papers containing her lyrics was still on the table and he reached over to grab it before she could snatch it away from him. He looked at the paper and read the lyrics.
"Judging by this," he waved the music in the air, "you've been thinking about what happened too."
Musa wanted to disappear into the woodwork. He had read something personal and had uncovered her bluff. She placed her forehead on the table in front of her and screamed in her mind, mentally cursing herself for getting drunk, him and his caffeine, and her and her song lyrics.
"So what if I was thinking about it?" she asked lifting her head. Her voice would sound like stone, if stone could talk.
"Well, don't you think we should talk about it?" he asked hesitantly. Musa gave him a puzzled expression. He wasn't normally one to talk about his feelings, especially with the person he may or may not have been having feelings for.
"What?" he inquired, looking at her quizzical expression.
"You never want to talk about anything," she stated matter-of-factly.
"So?"
"You want to talk about it now? Are you sure you're okay? Are you sure you're Riven?" she leaned across and poked him in the cheek to be sure that he was real.
"I just want these emotions to be lifted off my shoulders," he mumbled, suddenly anxious about what she would think about him. He was uncomfortable after she pointed out that he, indeed, did not like talking about anything, ever.
"Yeah, well, welcome to life," she said sarcastically.
"What did you think of them," he muttered through his clenched teeth. It was extremely hard for him to even form a coherent sentence when it came to talking about the dreaded feelings.
"Of what?" she asked.
"I don't know. What did you feel?" he grumbled. He looked around the café, suddenly paranoid that everyone was listening in and seeing how much of a baby and a chicken he really was.
"I don't really know what to tell you," Musa said. She wasn't the best at talking about feelings either. She would normally just bottle them up and play it cool.
"So you just want to ignore it then?" he asked, unsure of what he was trying to ask and unsure of what she was trying to tell him.
"Sure. Let's just pretend it never happened and go back to our painfully oblivious lives," she muttered. She couldn't help but let a little sarcasm slip into her response.
"Okay then, I guess I'll see you later then?" he hesitantly questioned.
"Sure, I'll see you later," Musa nodded and watched him get up from the table and walk out the door.
The whole entire time she just wanted to scream at him to realize that she had feelings for him, but how was he to know if she had never really given him real hints. The hints she had given him weren't strong enough and made him believe that she was just being friendly.
It also annoyed her that he was okay with pretending it didn't happen, even if she was being a little hypocritical, considering she didn't want to talk about what had happened either.