His voice broke the silence and Thalia let out an almost disgruntled hum, brow furrowing as she considered the two simple words. Was she good? No. She very much was not. In fact all she wanted was to be far away from Matthew. Being so close to him and yet undesired by him was much less bearable than being alone, and suddenly she was desperate to leave, a burning desire to flee filling her up so quickly that she felt almost overwhelmed. “No. I’m not,” she muttered, the answer quick and short.
The last thing she wanted to do was to sit there with him and play something, to be in his presence in some fake sort of situationship. If she couldn’t have him how she wanted him then she didn’t want him at all. “I- sorry, I need to go,” she mumbled, pulling herself up and out of her own bed, running a hand through her curls as she looked around confused for her clothes. It was her own apartment and yet she was the one leaving, an indication of just how tense she felt, how uncomfortable it all was. She began to pull things on haphazardly, avoiding his eyes as she stumbled towards her door. “I- you can let yourself out yeah? Door self-locks. See you round Matthew,” she murmured, casting a quick, embarrassed glance in his direction before taking off through the apartment and out the front door, breaking into a run as soon as it was closed behind her.
Where was she going? She had no idea. But she needed to get far away from him, and fast.
Hazel gaze slipped from it's staring fixed position at the ceiling, some shadow cast a particular way that garnered the intense visual focus of him to the point his eyes started to feel dry from unblinking and he had to consciously remind himself to blink in order to wet them. He hummed in response when she said she was not okay and he barely had a chance to register entirely what was happening next before she moved off the bed and began to dress herself. His movement felt sluggish, limbs weighed down by a gravity not his own, the weed had worked its way through him and wanted him to melt back down into the mattress but her moving elicited him to begin to do the same though at a considerably slower pace so by the time she was gone he had only just eased himself up to sit, arms braced behind him in a half lean, blinking at the open door of her room that she had exited.
"Huh," he blinked again, tongue swept over his lips as his head rolled to the side and then the other, eyes landing on where his own clothes were located and marking it into his memory so when he did manage to get off the bed entirely he could reach for them. Interesting. Very interesting. He got off the bed and reached for his jeans, put his legs through one at a time, fastened them up with a few quick movements of his fingers -- he was good at removing them but even better at putting them back on. Apparently, she wasn't a fan of video games. He did find it interesting though, how when he'd come over with the intention for them to hook up and she had told him no, that she'd rather just hang out, that it was fine, but in a few minutes the sides flipped and she came onto him but when he said no, it wasn't fine. Something he thought about as he pulled on his shirt and then his sweater and then pulled his phone out as he slung his bag over his shoulder and started to head out just as she'd said he should, opening up a text as the front door behind him clicked and locked.
END
