Obsessions [[NumberFour // Posting Blitz]]

A massive grin appeared as I saw the blond girl walk down the street. She didn't forget about me after all. I stand there, watching her from up above, before realizing I had to get the door. Without wasting a second, I bolted down the stairs, sprinting to the door. I stopped for a moment to catch my breath before opening the door, a welcoming smile on my face.

"Come in." I say, gesturing her into my massive house. She looked even prettier up close. To catch myself from staring like a creep, I looked down at my feet. Only to notice I was not wearing a shirt. "Shit." I muttered, scratching my head in embarrassment. "Can you excuse me for a sec?"

At the top of my lungs, I scream "OLIVA!" As per usual, she comes, nearly sprinting at me. She was a rather plump woman, and despite her becoming out of breath, she was actually pretty quick. Not fast enough I think. "Oliva, please entertain our guest. I will be right back."

I run up the stairs as quickly as I had went down them, entering my room. The shirt was neatly ironed, mostly white with many small blue lines vertically running down. I threw it on, buttoning the buttons as fast as possible. I put on some cologne, and once again come downstairs to the main entrance. Strike One, Mentz I think to myself. You better pray you don't get three.

"Oliva, you're dismissed. Go make us some snacks or something." She walks away, down the hallway and into the kitchen. I put on the charming smile the ladies swoon over, and just stand there like an idiot, trying to think of something to say. I hope desperately she speaks up first, as I'm just frozen there, unable to do anything.

I stop smiling after I realize it has no affect on her. Why not? Every other time I could get into any girl's pants with that simple smile, but this girl's different. I'm still convinced she has an impairment of some sort, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out "Do you have some sort of mental problem?" I realize this is a potential strike if I don't act fast. "Well, I mean, I'm not saying you act like it. Just a nice thing to know...Follow me!"

I forcefully grasp her hand into mine, and before I can say anything else foolish I'm leading her up the stairs, into my room. Mom and dad are out, so I have no one who will yell at me for bringing a girl into the house. "Notes...right. Thanks." I say, taking the papers she was kind enough to write in. "So, I was thinking we could write our names in tiny diamonds. To make it look fitting and pretty and stuff."

Before she responds, I stride over to my desk and pull out a box filled with small diamonds. I received this for my birthday, and there are more than enough jewels to spell our full names twice, if we use them sparingly. I pull out a thing of glue and walks over to my bed, motioning for Edana to sit by me. "The title page is the most important part, you know. Everything else is just words....bleh." I can't help but look over and smile. Not the one I usually use, but a genuine smile. And I do believe I've developed a crush on Edana Lightwood.

It was not until she started crying that I realized I had really screwed up. 2 strikes already, and she just got here. Is this how I am? Am I a monster? I feel like tearing up myself. Hurting Edana is the last thing I'd want to do, but I did just that. I want to walk up to her, wipe the tears from her eyes, hold her close, tell her it's okay. But I don't. I set here, feeling like a total jerk, unsure of what to say.

Finally, I build up enough strength to speak to her. "I....I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it...I don't want to hurt you. I just want to be friends, because you seem pretty cool." I practically choke out the last words, as the lump in my throat is hurting me. But it's not comparable to the pain in my heart.

So I sit there, on the foot of my bed, biting my lip, doing anything but shedding a tear. "I....you should leave. I'm a wreck...I hurt you. I didn't want to hurt you...just go, before I d anything else to screw up." Actually, I don't want her to leave. I want to make it right. But I'd seem like even more of an ass if I wouldn't give her the option to leave.

Strike Three. You're out. To be perfectly honest, the referee must have made a mistake. I only recall getting two strikes, but I was most certainly out. But what if I'm not? Is there still some way to score a home run?

Cheesy baseball metaphors aside, I truly wish that Edana and I aren't over, whether it be just friendship or something more.I have to redeem myself in some way. I glance over at the guitar sitting in the corner of my room. If only I knew how to play it. This was only one of the many things that I wanted just to have, but I never bothered to pick up. I must turn to the only thing I have left. My charisma.

"Yes....you should go. But don't think that anything I said is your fault. Because it's mine. I'm a jerk, okay? I thought having someone like you around would be a good influence, so I could become a better person. You didn't screw up, I did. You are absolutely perfect, Edana Lightwood. I'm jealous of you." Many things in that speech were a lie, especially the last sentence, but after years of practice I made it sound pretty convincing.

Now, she just needs to take the bait. She needs to walk back, sit beside me, and put everything that I did behind us. Because I do genuinely want to start over. She does seem really cool, and I'd love to have a friend (or girlfriend, for that matter) just like her. She needs to forgive me.

I can't move. It...it didn't work. The speech was a complete waste of time. I knew she was leaving, and I regret even telling her to. I just wish I could know what she wanted to hear so I could make this right. But this girl was a wild card, and even the most skilled Capitol agent couldn't figure out what she liked. Of course, what she liked wasn't me, but I'd definitely change for her.

In my head, I scurry down the stairs, begging her to stay. She's opposed at first, but I serenade her with my beautiful voice, and she falls in love with me. Then after a while of dating, we get married, and have a child, a son who grows up to win the Hunger Games. And then we grow old, and we die together.

But in reality, I sit on my bed, allowing her to leave. I crawl up to my pillow, and lay face down. Almost immediately, the tears start falling down my face. The pillow muffles the sound, but I'm most definitely crying. I messed up when I first met her, and now there's no going back. I just have to accept the fact that after this project, Edana Lightwood will be out of my life forever.