ricky rocks. it gets cheesy at the end, but a girl finally writing again.
you watched the clock on your phone turn 12 making your stomach twist in despair at the thought of how early it still was and there would be no way of leaving anytime soon.
you were losing your mind and the fact that everything was suddenly becoming so overwhelming and claustrophobic didn’t help—all due to you being pressed up so close to eli. it hadn’t even been an hour since eli had practically yelled at you in miguel’s small restroom for being so… you.
everything you did had been setting him off and lighting him up like a fuse all night up until he finally exploded—pulling you into a conversation you never thought you’d have with him.
it didn’t make sense—none of it. you understood how much of an irritating person you could be once fueled up but eli was one to handle it. you loved it, played along with it, but not tonight. not even from when you walked through the front door.
“you okay?” you felt his mouth pressed against the side of your face, whispering carefully as taking hint to your silence.
you were never silent.
“yeah, i’m fine,” you shifted slightly against his chest, wincing at the wide movement—almost feeling it was too much and that’d clue him onto how you really felt at that moment.
but he stayed silent and he didn’t say anything. but you could still the gears were turning in his head as he slowly leaned away and stared forward with a blank expression.
“you sure?”
“yup.”
nope.
“you want to talk about it?”
eli would have moved on if it was anybody else but it just didn’t feel right. you keeping your mouth screwed shut was one of the worst possibilities that could have came out of tonight and he didn’t know how to fix it.
“no,” you slightly eased away from him, “i’m fine, hawk, fuck off.”
he blinked in surprisal with his eyes slightly expanded at the quiet yet harsh words he never expected to be directed towards him. his arms dropped from your waist as you were practically already moved all the way across the couch.
he watched you for a good minute, not knowing what to do or what to say. you ignored it despite how painful it was and how much it made you squirm underneath his hard stare.
as much as a douche bag eli was, he knew the reasoning. he’d have to be dumb if he didn’t. yelling at you was not something he wanted to do, but he wasn’t in the mood for your teasing and he was more on edge than usual with it just being a flat out bad day for him.
“what’s with you and y/n?” miguel had run in on eli once he had finally gotten up to the kitchen. he clasped his shoulder tightly pushing himself so close that eli could smell the booze that tainted his mouth. “what’s—what’s going on here?”
eli pushed him away a bit with his elbow due to the clear loss of boundaries miguel had with the intoxication undergoing his mind, “nothing, man. chill out.”
“nothing my ass,” he hiccuped, tipping back and forth. “you guys are always all over each other but it seems like she can’t get far enough away from you.”
eli winced, now glancing to his friend who kept shifting back and forth on his feet in an antsy manner. miguel didn’t look him in the eyes for more than a second because of the box of crackers eli held.
“she probably feels sick.”
“sick of you.”
“okay man,” he shoved the box of crackers to his chest as miguel giggled. “maybe you should go sit back down.”
“only if you figure out what’s wrong.”
they both shared a stare as miguel shifted away and out of the kitchen with the box of crackers closely pressed against his chest. even in his drunken zone he looked precisely sober in the pointed glare he offered to eli.
“fine.”
*
“let’s talk,” you almost jump to the unexpected lips practically pressed to your ear as eli had leaned down to your level of position on the couch, tipping his head toward the bathroom. you looked in the direction before looking back up to him where he gave you a serious look, once again motioning toward the other room.
you sighed, hoisting yourself to your feet before walking where he immediately placed his hand on your lower back, guiding you just in case you’d change your mind.
“what’s wrong?”
the question floated through the air seconds after the door was closed and his concerned stare filled your vision intensely.
“what’s wrong?” you looked dumbfounded as you stared at him, your arms going limp at your sides, you couldn’t even process it quite right. “eli, you yelled at me an hour ago because of how annoying i was being and you’re asking me what’s wrong?”
he scoffed a little, “i was overwhelmed.”
“by what?” you threw your hands up in frustration, “i barely said one word to you and you were acting like i was making fucking fun of you or calling you names.”
“when are you not?”
eli cringed at his response but it was almost like a reflex to be a smartass whenever someone raised their voice above talking level. this is not the way he wanted this conversation to go and he could just imagine miguel shaking his head at him for letting it get out of hand so fast.
“get over yourself, eli. you have a whole alter ego that circles on you lying about doing karate.”
“why would i lie about doing karate?”
“i don’t know karate boy, you tell me.”
he rolled his eyes, shifting backwards on his feet, “you really piss me off sometimes.”
“hit me then.”
“do you hear yourself right now?”
“perfectly fine, hawk.”
“what the fuck do you want from me?”
you looked him straight in the eyes and he should have known what was coming. it’s the only thing you had been asking of him since the day the two of you met, “i want you to stop lying or punch me in the face.”
“i’m not going to punch you in the face, get that through your head,” he clasped your shoulders, almost shaking you as his wild eyes pierced yours. “i’ll do anything but punch you in the face. if anything punch me, c’mon.”
his statement caught the both of you off till eli recovered for the both of you, slightly moving backwards after seeing the consideration that begun to swarm in your eyes, “why would i punch you?”
he still prepared himself even as hesitation was written all over in your movements. you looked like you wanted to, but you were still unsure.
“c’mon, y/n, i know you want to.”
“eli-“
“do it. punch me. you’re not going to hit me.”
“then what’s the point?”
“just do it,” you still eyed him carefully, almost questioning if he was actually asking of this. “hit me, i know you want to.”
you squinted, “don’t cry like a baby when i do, eli.”
his lip twitches and you extend your arm out before you send your fist toward his face—but he was quick and dogged your throw, almost landing you in miguel’s shower if it weren’t for eli catching you and now having your arm pinned up and behind your back.
“relax, princess,” you could hear the smirk in his voice without seeing him. “don’t get too worked up now.”
you tugged out of his grip roughly causing him to let you go to avoid any pain that would cause you, but you now once again positioned far from him with eyes full of determination. you didn’t really care for pain but instead a good payback—or just something that’d prove he wasn’t in actual karate. but so far, you were failing at both.
this time he ducked, but you retaliated quicker sending a foot up to kick him the best you could within the limited space but he caught it, now yanking you forward by the grip he had on your calf, his nose now touching yours, “you done?”
“sure,” you grunted attempting to pull your foot from his grasp. “just admit your lying.”
he scoffed, “get over yourself,” then dropping your foot, seemingly done with the conversation, “you’re more fun when you’re drunk.”
“you asshole,” you watched him open the bathroom without another thought making you even more angry and further motivating your move to pick up and throw the glass cup placed conveniently on sink counter.
you watched it fly through the air, centimeters from hitting his head but by some strange luck, eli caught the cup without even looking at it. your brows narrowed, completely astounded on how he caught the glass with his back turned.
he turned around, a clear unimpressed frown on his face, “you believe me now?”
“yeah, sure,” you breathed out, looking between him and the object.
