Abby
A curse slips out of my mouth as I lurch across my living room. My fingers are
clumsy as I fumble with the door handle, but finally, I yank it open. The porch
light filters in, revealing Karl, his figure imposing even in the darkness of the
street outside.
“What are you doing here?” I’m more tired than angry, and a little too drunk for
my own good, leaving my voice harsher than I really intend.
Karl’s eyes scan over me, taking in my haphazard state, before his gaze floats
past me and into the equally haphazard state of my apartment. “Why aren’t you
answering your phone?” he asks. “I’ve been trying to call you. I’m worried.”
Enter title…
doorway, partially to hide
also partially to steady myself. “I didn’t feel
conveys exactly what I want it to: that I need
do I need
Karl doesn’t budge. Instead, he steps forward, brushing past
stop him. He stands
food, the two wine bottles, and the blooming red
carpet with the discarded towel before he finally turns back to face
trying to reach you.
slightly. “Well, I haven’t been looking at
been… busy.”
across his chest and frowns, a
what? Watching old movies and
a pointed look at the bottle
arms as though that will somehow protect me. “Maybe,” I
so what?
sighs. There it is again: that defensiveness
on Karl, who only ever tried his best to help me win
can’t help it. Right now, I’m angry with the world, and I
why.
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