Chapter Eleven - A heartbreaking question.

"Tobias?" I call out, searching the rooms in the house. I can't find him anywhere, the house is deserted. I let out a frustrated groan, tugging at my hair in distress. My phone is still vibrating in my pocket and I pull it out, gritting my teeth tightly. It's mum - surprise, surprise.

Trish, where are you? Leroy wants you. Trisha Lockwood, answer your phone. Trish! Don't make me ground you.

I groan loudly again and ring her, stomping down the stairs. The line rings three, four, five times before she answers.

"Trish? Where are you?"

"Mum, I'm at Emily's. I fell asleep, sorry." I mumble, running a hand over my tired face. The last thing I need is to be grounded, especially when Emily needs me. I can hear her voice soften on the other end, obviously sensing my exhaustion.

"Do you know what time you'll be home honey?" "No, sorry Mum."

"I'll cook you some lunch and leave it in the oven." I smile even though I know she can't see me.

"Thank you." I respond softly, ending the call. I push past the kitchen door and head for the kettle, turning it on. I need a seriously strong coffee to survive this wave of tiredness. As the waters boiling, I stare aimlessly out of the window at the trees in the back. My eyes notice a tuft of dark hair sticking up from behind the wall and I frown, my heart somersaulting a little. I walk out of the kitchen and down the steps of the garden, heading for the wall at the back. The air is cold, whipping my skin harshly until I shiver.

"Tobias?" I call out, my teeth chattering. I'm not dressed for the wind. I hear him sigh heavily and I nibble nervously on my bottom lip, turning to find him leaning against the brick wall. His eyes are drawn in, dark and shut off. In one hand, he's clutching a lit cigarette. His other is shoved inside his jean pocket and he doesn't make eye contact with me.

"Can we talk?" I mutter, hating that I have to explain myself. How can I possibly explain it? Tobias doesn't reply and simply stares straight ahead, lifting his arm to inhale from the cigarette. His lips wrap around it before he pulls back, exhaling smoke upwards.

I wrap my arms around my shivering body in an effort to stay warm. Tobias continues to act like he isn't aware of my existence and I inhale deeply, feeling hurt.

"I'm making some coffee if you want some." I whisper, turning to leave him alone. I can't force him to understand. "Coffee sounds good."

I spin back around as he drops the cigarette, putting it out with his shoe. He pushes himself off the wall and motions for me to head inside. I smile lightly, grateful that he's giving me a chance. How do I explain that I'm tired of being a slut, easy, cheap? I wasn't expecting to explain myself to anyone when I tried to change but with Tobias, it's different. I care what he thinks but I'm not entirely sure on why I care yet.

*****

I silently place a mug of coffee in front of him and he mutters a thanks, his words low. I don't say anything as I sit opposite him, reaching over to grab a handful of biscuits from the tin.

"You treat this place likes it's yours." Tobias smiles, looking at me from under his thick, dark lashes. I shrug my shoulders, my cheeks growing pink from his words.

"I view it as my house too. If that's okay with you." I respond, dipping a chocolate biscuit inside my coffee before taking a huge bit from it. I murmur in approval at the taste and Tobias simply watches me, disgust written across his features.

"I'm a guy and I still find that slightly disgusting." I let out a chuckle -

"You said slightly. It's not that disgusting."

"You just dunked a chocolate biscuit inside black coffee, that's definitely disgusting Trish."

"Sue me." I grin, reaching over for my second biscuit. He doesn't reply and instead wraps his large hands around the mug, pulling it closer towards him. I nibble nervously on my lower lip, feeling the awkward tension build between us. It was time.

"Tobias — "

He stops me by holding out his hand. I quickly shut my mouth, waiting for him to speak.

"You don't need to explain yourself. Just answer me one question," he says quietly, his words low. I narrow my eyes at him as I try to figure out how he's feeling but he's a closed book, impossible to read.

I nod my head slowly, swallowing the lump in my throat. Part of me is relieved he doesn't want me to explain. Another part of me is hurt that I hurt him.

"What's the question?" I ask quietly, my heart beat picking up pace inside my chest. I can feel it lightly thumping, reminding me that Tobias has a major effect on me. Moments of silence pass between us an I watch as pain fills his eyes.

"Is the thought of sleeping with me repulsive? Am I repulsive?"

My mouth hangs open slightly from his words. I feel a stab of pain rip through my chest and all I want is to wrap my arms around him and put him straight. He looks hurt, broken. The thought of him feeling that way about himself saddens me, angers me that I'm the cause for it.

"Tobias - no! You're not repulsive. You're anything but repulsive. This is all my fault, it has nothing to do with you. It's me!"

"You sound like your breaking up with me," Tobias chuckles, his eyes dull and emotionless. I shake my head fiercely, my dark hair flying around my face. I inhale deeply, building up courage. If only I had a bottle of vodka. . .

"Tobias, you're not repulsive. I think. . . I think you're beautiful and strong and clever. I'm so sorry I made you feel anything but that." I whisper.

I can't look at him, I can't see his reaction. I drop my eyes down to the table and don't dare breathe as I wait for him to respond. When he doesn't, I open my mouth to put it right again. Once and for all.

"I think anyone would be lucky to have you."