Chapitre 3: Best Weekend Ever! (2of3)
"Whatever." I think he's done trying to argue with me.
Rude!
So anyway, he put the pizza box on my lap and with a little wiggling of my arms, I was able to pathetically open the box within a minute or so.
I didn't mind him not helping me open it because I could respect that. Besides, he can't untie me. I'm supposed to be the kidnappee in this game; I'm not supposed to get what I want. That's why I should be here for him.
"You can't eat like that. You can barely pull the slices apart from each other." He rested his chin in his palm, looking at me lame-ly.
"I'm not supposed to be untied." If he's not gonna bother arguing with me, then I won't bother arguing with him. Serves him right!
"But you have to eat."
"I know."
"Then how are you going to eat like that?"
"Hm, let me think..."
After a moment, this happens.
"Bite." He approaches a big slice of pizza to my mouth.
"Sip." He approaches a big coke's straw to my mouth where I sip.
After some chewing, I swallow.
"Bite." He does the same as before, but with a sigh.
"Show some spirit." And with that, the corners of his mouth go up with a fake smile.
This guy seriously needs some help.
"Sip." I sip from the straw.
"Remind me again why we're doing this."
"Well, you see apparently James— "
"Not apparently. My name really is James."
"—apparently James, you play the role of the kidnapper and I play the role of the kidnappee— "
"Kidnappee is not a word."
"—in which being tied up is a crucial point of the whole thing. As such, I cannot be untied 'cause that would be breaking the rules. However, as a kidnappee, the least you should do is to let me eat and drink so that I wouldn't be half dead when my parents have to come and pick me up."
"So you made me have to feed you so you still get to eat even if you're tied up?" He said it in the lamest way possible.
"No— "
"Oh, let me guess, because if we become a, ahem, 'couple', we should train ourselves with respect to feeding each other?"
"What? Don't be silly, that's easy to do."
"Then why are you making me feed you like this?!" I think he was frustrated.
My intentions are never inside the box, anyways. Maybe I'll let him off easy on this one. I should also teach him not to cut me off every time he gets the chance.
"No, it's because the slices and jumbo coke are too big and heavy for me to hold while eating. By the end of my meal, my hands would've gotten greasy and soar. Now, we wouldn't want that, do we?"
Hm, maybe me saying that is what made him immediately stand up and knock his head on the wall a few times. It's not my fault he wasn't keeping up.
After a few minutes of calming down and tending to his wounded head, hehe, his forehead was so red, like he had ironed it or something, he was deep in thought for a while before he arrived back in front of me and looked me in the eye.
"You know what? You're right. You should be in full health when your parents come and take you. That's why— "He takes the pizza box off my lap and grabs the coke to my horror" I won't be feeding you pizza and coke and will feed you a salad instead. Much healthier and cheaper than this big old thing." He smirks like a monster at me.
"No! Not my pizza! Anything but the pizza! Please, please don't do this to me!" Where's my Oscar?
"You don't feel threatened where a freakin gun is pointed at you, but you feel threatened by taking away your pizza?" He looked shocked and confused at the same time.
"Why would I feel threatened by a toy gun? Toy guns never hurt anybody. But salad... ewie. I only like lettuce in my burger and tomatoes are only yummy in pizza and sauce. Lemons are too soar for my liking and oil is only tasty when it's boiled with fries in them. Salt is the only thing I like in any salad, but with all the other components combined, it's influence makes it lose its influence. I hate salad!"
"Well, too bad. A salad is what you're going to eat for the rest of your weekend." His smile only got more malicious with every word he spat.
It's like he found what he could control me with, and I don't like it. I only had a slice and four sips of coke so far! I'm still hungry and I need the rest of this pizza no matter what.
"Say, how about you untie me and I eat the pizza myself, and as soon as I wash my hands, you can tie me back. What d'ya say?"
"Hmmm, how about... no?"
"Ah come on!"
"You said it yourself; you're the kidnappee and you shouldn't be untied no matter what."
"Please~! I wanna eat my pizza~!" I wine as adorable-y as I could.
"A salad is what you get and that's final." He said with a stern gaze like he's the boss around here and his word is supposed to be the one to be listened to, but I wasn't listening.
"But you said that this pizza and coke were expensive! Probably 50 bucks or something, isn't it? But now you'll have to go off and buy a salad, haven't you spent enough?" I try to use a key element of our previous conversation to save myself from, ewie, salad.
"I can buy a salad for a max price of 5$ around here. It's not as expensive." He retorts.
"Yeah, but for a small bowl of salad, that is expensive. Besides, pizza doesn't taste good when it gets cold and you already had your pizza, now isn't that a waste?"
He shifted his weight between his feet before answering my query.
"You're not the one in control here, I am. I decide what will happen to the pizza, and you don't. And you know what? I don't care if you actually believe that I really kidnapped you and that it isn't pretend. I don't care if you think I'm interested in you or not. I don't care if you think this gun by my side is real or not, which is in fact— "he points the gun towards the wall to his right and pulled the trigger, a bullet shooting right through them with a bang"—real. As long as you're here, my word is law, and yours is trash— "
"Ex-cuisine me?"
"... Anyway, I hope you understand this at the very least: what I say goes. Got it?"
"No..."
"What?"
"No way..."
"What?!"
"You have grey eyes too! Just a second ago, they looked like there was a storm brewing in them and they were just turning and turning and it's like they're on pause right now. By the way, one of my little bros has grey eyes too, but yours just look sharper. I don't know where he got the grey eyes himself, neither of the older generations had grey eyes, so I dunno. Hey! Who did you get your grey eyes from? Oh, let me guess... You got them from your grandma! I just so happened to have light brown eyes which I had gotten from my grandma, while the rest of the family have dark brown eyes. Well, except for one of my youngest bros, you know I told you just now, he has grey eyes... Hello? Are you listening?"
Did I stun him speechless yet again?
Is it something I said? Wait, was it something he said? What did he say just a minute ago? 'you're not blah blah blah. Pizza blah blah blah. Interested with you blah blah blah. Law and your word is trash'. Yeah, that sounds about right.
What's his problem?
After a few moments of silences, I decided to break the awkwardness with a little of my own.
"So... Can I have my pizza now pretty please?"
He blinked a few times before getting up from his seat and exiting the room altogether, leaving me alone with my pizza parked in front of me on the floor.
Does that mean I get my pizza?
I was ecstatic! I managed to get my pizza back from his snatching hands. Now that he's gone for a while, I had to eat as much of it as I can before he changed his mind. The problem was, I'm still tied up in a chair, which gave me an idea.
By the time he got back, which was about an hour or more, I don't know I don't read old time-y clocks, just digital ones, he came back to this site.
The chair was lying flat on its side with me still tied in it, the last slice of pizza held in place by my mouth as it was laying on the threshold of the box.
Seeing him, I paused for a breath or two and then continued to eat with a bored but satisfied look in my eyes, slowly chewing the pizza like a goat with nothing better to do.
He didn't seem to like that, but he never commented about my situation with a shake of his head. He didn't have a salad either, so I assumed that he really did decide to let me eat the pizza.
"Um, apparently James— "
"My name really is James."
"Really is James, I just finished my pizza, but I wasn't able to finish my coke. Can you please help me with my coke?"
"No."
Is he still trying to display his dominance on me? That doesn't work in relationships. We must be equal with no one being the dominant component in the relationship. When, oh when will he ever learn?
I gave him an adorable pout anyways, trying to guilt-trip him, but he seemed to be standing his ground pretty strongly and kept staring back at me nonetheless.
In the end, I let him win, and I didn't get to drink my coke, I was too full anyway, so who cares? So I just let him have this one victory, in pity of his weakness in our future relationship.
Hm, I don't know... Really is James is just so full of flaws.
He thinks edginess is attractive, he holds guns that are actually real around, he talks rudely and thinks what I say is trash. Toxic relationship alert!
Nope, I've made up my mind. Really is James and I are just not meant to be. Man, I hope he's not too hurt about this.
What should I say? Oh, I know!
I'll tell him that he seems like a sweet guy with really nice eyes, but in fear that our relationship wouldn't work out, I suggest that we don't start anything after all.
Sounds about right. This is the nicest I could say about us. Perfect!
When I came back to the real world, I find him staring at me with a bizarre expression on his face.
Was he waiting for me to come back from my thinking world? I think so. Looks like it. Probably. Let's see what happens.
"Really is James, we need to talk."
By the way, he didn't even bother to pull me back up to the chair's feet; I'm still lying on my side on the floor! See? Toxic, isn't it?
He widened his eyes a bit before gesturing to me to carry on with what looked like excitement in his eyes. I'm gonna feel so guilty about this. He has no idea.
"You know, for the past few hours of us being together, it has come to my attention that... we won't last long together."
He seemed to want to say something, but I didn't let him say anything in fear that I would feel guilty and take back my words. The poor corrupted soul...
"Don't get me wrong! You seem like a very sweet guy with nice eyes and everything, but your game preference being to role-play as a kidnapper and your belief that edginess is attractive and your poor gameplay, I don't think we are meant to be, to begin with. I'm sorry, but... I'm pre-breaking up with you." My Oscar, people?!
"...Oh."
Thanks for reading!
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone