Each encounter became more strenuous. Each conversation became tenser. Each phrase more forced and each word more painful to utter. The boy seemed cognizant of the distance and encouraged detachment. His words were short and fragmented toward her. His eyes always stared straight past her, glancing toward an inane, distant object. He hid his face in television sets and computer screens. His eyes never once strayed her direction. She felt like a disembodied voice floating around above his head, ignored for the sake of sanity. His eyes once looked at her jovially and were the faintest shade of blue. Now, they avoided her, betraying only a hard glaze coated over the surface.

The girl’s own eyes welled up at every thought, illuminated with emerald frustration. He shunned every attempt she made with the intensity of a slighted Amish father. Her heart raced each time the door was pushed open for fear that it’d be him. While the silence was disconcerting, the prospect of speaking with him was terrifying. His perceived anger and mistreatment made her ill. Their former familiarity left her vulnerable to his disapprobation, but he refused to give confirmation to any speculations. Devaluated and dejected, the girl pleaded with him for one simple audience. It was like getting a small child to take a nap.

Finally, he condescended to speak with her. Hovering uncomfortably in her doorway, he waited for her words to provoke his own. The flaw in his plan: she had no clue what to say. She was frazzled and unable to anticipate his actions. He was enigmatic and it made her stomach churn. So it went. Awkward silence. After being prodded slightly he let the onslaught begin. All the things that had been building up within him poured on her where she sat on her bed. The smug stance he took while berating her and his lack of emotion left her balking. It was in her inability to process that she noticed something in his eyes. The eyes she had seen as a guarded coat of ice in the past few weeks had turned a color she had never seen before. The navy, nearly black color expressed a loathing, which his words only alluded to.

This girl used to be able to turn to steel and pluck a retort instantly from the air when confronted. Used to … before she met him. It was petty, frustrating and utterly not worth her time and had she been rational it wouldn’t have gotten to her the way it did. While he stared back at her she couldn’t handle any of it. He bent the steel and sent her splintering down, confused and anxious. She gathered her blankets around her so that only her head poked out. At that moment he seemed to realize how unjust he had been in his diction. He didn’t expect this from her. The last thing he wanted was to be seen as the bad guy. He made a smattering of half-hearted comments and attempted to console her. She accepted, but even in their slight embrace she felt his eyes roll through her tears. He wanted no more to comfort her than she did to be comforted by him. She fell back to her bed and could only give him a watery stare. He lingered a second and was gone from the room at the slightest nod from the girl. To leave her alone in a soggy little puddle on her bed wasn’t enough for him though. Exercising his dominance, he stayed within hearing range and laughed warmly with someone else. It speared her.

Things were awkward. They were awkward when they were alone, when they were in large groups and most of all when they had to speak with each other. The girl seethed with anger every time, while he ignored that she was more than a piece of furniture. She wanted to crush him somehow, but he was immovable. She didn’t want anything fixed, she didn’t want things the way they used to be and she didn’t want him around. Unfortunately those around her weren’t so sympathetic. So as the days wore on, she let the anger she fought so hard to keep ebb away slowly into acceptance. Being angry wasn’t functional, so she gave in again. As usual in the relationship, she was the one to compromise her self. So she’d be nice and he’d be civil, but she could never forget the exact color his eyes turn and had a feeling he wouldn’t either.