The Marriage Contract (16 page)

              “You creep!” My voice screeched, as he shielded his hands over his face, trying to dodge the pillow attack. “Don’t ever try to touch me again, you pervert! You perverted, pervert! Trying to seduce me, are you? Take that!”

              “Alright already,” he snapped. “Knock it off!”

              I huffed out a deep breath, and just as I was about to smack the pillow against his head once more, he swung over, placing both his long legs beside my hips- pinning me in place. His warm hands held either side of my wrist above my head, as my fingers gripped on to the pillow, before finally letting go.

              “Apologize,” I said, giving him a stern stare. “You were trying to break the no touching rule—“

              “So were you,” he said, his arms still pinning me down.

              “Only because you started it.”

              Ugh. I sounded like a child.

              He smirked. “So…you were trying to teach me a lesson?”

              I wrinkled my nose as if something foul had entered my mouth.

              He laughed. “I don’t apologize, Princess. But I’ll say thank you, though—“

              “For what?” I asked. “And let me go!”

              I tried to wriggle my arms out of his iron grip, but it was no use. He continued to smile in that easy going way of his, as he dipped his head towards my lips. I turned my face to the side, as my cheeks flushed a hot red- my heart drumming loudly within my chest. He chuckled softly, and I swore he whispered, “adorable”.

              But, I was probably just hearing things.

              “I’m thanking you for bringing us…closer,” he said.

              I refused to look at him.

              Great. How long were we going to be in this ridiculously uncomfortable position? His grip over my hands- softened, and just as he began to dip his head towards my neck, I screamed.

              “Snake!” I shouted, my eyes widening in horror. “Behind you!”

              He let go, jumping a foot away from the bed, and running to the end of the room. Fear clouded his eyes, as his pale, porcelain cheeks, began to turn a deep scarlet. His legs shook as though he were freezing, as he ran towards the bed, jumping on top of it, and screaming, “Fuck, I hate snakes!”

              And so for the next minute, I laughed.

              I laughed, and laughed, and laughed, till my stomach ached, and I fell to the ground, clutching my middle. Standing, I shook my head, trying to stop the laughter. But again, another burst of giggles spilled out, as the walls of the room were silenced by my laughter.

              He leaped off the bed, taking slow, feline steps towards me. I grinned, unable to hide my smile, as the angry look in his eyes, made me laugh once more.

              “Aren’t you amused,” he said, stalking towards me.

              “I most certainly am,” I smiled, taking slow steps back. “Thanks for the entertainment!”

              His almond eyes- narrowed dangerously, as he lunged towards me. I flashed both layers of my teeth, turned, and ran to the other room, laughing as the flashback of James jumping on the bed like a scared little boy, fogged my mind.

              “You better find a place to hide, little girl.” His voice rang through the hall way, as I continued to run down the vast space of our home.

              “Don’t worry about me, old man,” I called, giggling like a dork, for I snorted a few times too many.

              The sounds of his footsteps stilled, as a quiet chill flew past my neck, causing the goose bumps in my arms to rise. I slowly turned, but saw only the light from the tall window behind me, casting a luminescent glow over the brown wooden floor.

              “Where’d you go?” I asked. “Look, I didn’t mean to scare you. I didn’t even know you snakes freaked you out—“

              I yelped.

              Two strong, muscular arms slinked through my waist, curling over my belly, turning me around, and throwing me over a wide shoulder. I kicked my legs in the air like a wailing hen, shooting punches over his back.

              “Let go of me you brute!” It was not the best insult, but it sufficed.

              “Not happening, Princess,” said James, walking me back to the bedroom.

              “I’m going rip your hair out,” I warned. “Don’t tempt me, you Neanderthal. I’ll really do it—“

              “Go ahead,” he challenged.

              His arms wrapped tighter around my legs, as I hung over his shoulder like a rag doll. Without warning, I blew on my palms twice, before tugging his hair violently.

              “What the hell!” he yelled, groaning in pain. “That hurts!—“

             
DING!

             
“The bell!” we both said in unison.

‘              “Put me down,” I snapped. “I’ll do it again—“

              “Wait,” he scolded. “It must be the pizza—“

              On the sound of my favorite food, I uncurled my fists from his thick brown locks, as my stomach grumbled in a most impolite fashion. I smiled, awaiting the pizza, for I hadn’t had a slice in so long.

              I was getting a bit chubby from eating so much of it, anyway. Ugh, but it tasted so good. How can anyone resist pizza? The soft, cheesy layer that’s just the right temperature, cloaked in a rich, tomato sauce, and topped with beef peperoni that’s sizzling over the warm deliciousness.

              The drool from my mouth slipped on to his shirt.

              “Did you just drool on me?” he asked, walking over to the door, with me still hanging over his shoulder.

              “Sorry,” I grumbled. “Can you put me down now? I’m too hungry to attack you—“

              James placed me on the ground, and in the moment after, I ran to the door, twisting it open. My grin extended from ear to ear, as I smiled warmly at the awkward, acne ridden pizza delivery guy. He was stick thin, slouching before the door- his brown hands holding the box that was calling my name.

              Sitting against the white wall of the living room, I finished my fourth slice. James stared distastefully at me, sitting beside me, as I slurped the soda rather loudly. I glanced over to him, and frowned as he had eaten only one slice, not even bothering to finish the crust. The pizza box rested between us like a barrier, as I cleared my throat, preparing to stand.

              His reached over the box, covering his palm over my forearm, staring intently at my right cheek.

              “Wait,” he said, bringing his hand towards my face.

              I flinched, and his hand tightened over my arm, slinking down so that it was placed over my hand.

              I gulped. “What are you—“

              He brushed a thumb at the corner of my mouth, as the soft flesh from his finger pressed gently beside my lips.

              “You had crumbs,” he explained lightly. “Right there.”

              I placed a hand over my cheek, dusting off any remaining crumbs, and sliding a foot away from him against the wall. My heart did that odd summer sault again, and I told myself that it was because I had eaten too many slices. That’s all.

              We gazed at each other for a few seconds, before he broke the contact, looking away. He appeared disturbed, for his eyes focused on the window ahead, gazing at the deep purple sky. I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, as he sat on the ground- one long leg extended outward, while the other leg tucked under his thigh.

              He stood, walking towards the kitchen counter, and when he returned to our spot, there was a paper and pen gripped in one hand. The paper, I recognized, was our marriage contract. I stood before him, giving him a blank stare, as he passed the paper and pen to me.

              “Sign it,” he said.

              I re-read the rules once more, and as I turned to the next page- I noticed that he had already scribbled in his name in the signature spot. Taking a deep breath, I turned, placing the paper against the wall, and dragging my name across the dotted line of the contract.

              “Now, it becomes official,” he said. “Let’s try to stay out of each other’s way, shall we?”

              “Gladly,” I replied.

              That infuriating, insensitive, jerk!

              I had checked every room, and the only one containing a bed, was currently being occupied by the spoiled Prince of New York State. How could he not have told me to bring a sleeping bag with me, or something? I knew he had no time to order furniture, but he could have at least warned me that I would be sleeping on the floor for the night! That selfish son of a—

              “Something wrong?” A lazy drawl escaped his lungs, as he laid on the king sized bed, turning another page to his book.

              I supposed he was reading “how to be a total idiot”, or something similar.

              I stormed into the room, taking the book off his hands, and slamming it closed. I placed it beside his stomach, glaring at him.

              “Don’t touch what’s mine,” he snapped, sitting up.

              His eyes were venomous, as he stood to his full height, towering over me. I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest, and taking a step towards him. Jumping, I thumped his forehead, to which he yelped, covering his bruised skin with his palm.

              “You’ve got anger issues!” he snapped.

              “And you’ve got jerk syndrome issues!—“

              “What?” He asked, looking genuinely confused.

              The light from the ceiling illuminated his eyes, as he pursed his lips- confusion splashed across his sculpted face.

              “I have nowhere to sleep,” I complained, throwing my hands in the air. “Nowhere! You could have told me that there weren’t any extra beds or sleeping bags, before I came. I could have brought something to sleep in for the night. But no, you only think of yourself—“

              “Dorothy, just calm down,” he said, placing both hands on my shoulder.

              I stepped out of his touch, shooting him a cold glare.

              “How can I calm down?” I asked. “This isn’t even about me sleeping on the floor! It’s about you being an inconsiderate person—“

              He hesitated, running a hand through his thick mane.

“You can sleep next to me,” he said, licking his bottom lip.

I took a step back, giving him an incredulous stare.

Did he really just say that?

“Stop joking around, James.”

He smiled. “I like when you say my name.”

My ears burned, but I shook away the feeling, for I didn’t want to get distracted by his sugary words that dripped syrup into each flirtatious sentence he uttered.

“Focus,” I snapped. “I’m not going to ever sleep in the same bed with you, so don’t even joke about that, okay?—“

He shrugged, dropping on the bed- his long legs outstretched and head pressed against a plush white pillow.

“I made a mistake, Dorothy. People do make mistakes, you know. Whether you sleep on this bed or not, I could care less. Well, anyways…goodnight. Can you turn off the light?”

My shadow loomed over him, as I stood, glaring.

Without another word, I stormed out of the room, dragging my suitcase with me.

My night was a restless one, for I slept in the room opposite his, using my black winter’s coat as a pillow, and an old tattered sweater, as a blanket. Thank goodness for the heating, or else I would probably freeze to death in the overly large room. Curling into a ball in the corner of the room, I tossed and turned for another hour, before drifting to a quiet sleep.

I woke to the scent of lavender, as James’s fragrance clung to the soft pillow under my head. I sighed against the warm, cotton blanket, hugging it tightly, as I turned to my side. I exhaled a deep sigh, stretching my arms over my head, feeling like I had experienced the best sleep of my life.

It took my lethargic mind a few seconds, before realizing I wasn’t in my prior sleeping quarters.

I shot up from bed, pressing a hand against my thumping chest, as I stared at the bed that James had occupied last night.

I couldn’t have sleep walked here, could I? But, where was James?

I turned my head to the side, noticing a yellow post it note on the pillow next to mine. Chewing my lower lip, I picked up the note, reading the curly, fine writing that could only belong to him.

“Sorry,” it read.

I re read the note, feeling my lips curl upwards to a small smile, as I placed the note on the wall beside the bed. Getting up, I yawned once more, before walking out the door.

It was then that I noticed the impossible. Or, what I thought was the impossible.

As I hovered a hand over the bathroom, on the room that I had slept in last night, curled on the floor- was James. His brown locks were spread over my black winter’s coat, as my brown sweater rested over him like a blanket.