Doubt: 2P AmericaxReaderxAmerica
Some people wondered how you could stand him. He was perverted, rude, and had a head so big you would have thought he would be smarter. Even when asked you couldn’t think of a single time he had been remotely charming, let alone held the door for you. How could his cocky smile and dirty words even convince you to go on the first date? Let alone the one you were on now?
“I’ll have the…” (You tried to ignore the twisted feeling in your stomach. What you were ordering didn’t sound edible.) Spiced Mantequilla de Murcia Olives?” you tried, giving a nervous smile to the dreadlocked waiter.
He sighed and rolled his eyes, scribbling something down on his pad. He asked, “Plums or dates?”
You froze for a moment. You weren’t sure you had ever even eaten a plum or a date, let alone knew the difference, “…What would you recommend?” you tried.
Dreadlocks scribbled something down and mumbled, “Not trying to order a steak,” before he disappeared into the crowd, leaving Al to laugh while your cheeks burned.
“It was a mistake,” you said, hiding behind the menu.
Al continued to laugh and you felt horrible. You had no idea he had taken you to a vegan restaurant and you had ordered a steak. Dreadlocks had smirked and chuckled while Al rudely corrected you. The night had barely begun and you were already re-thinking your relationship with Al.
“Don’t make it again,” he warned and tore off a bite of pita bread.
To him it probably sounded like a joke but to you it sounded like a punch and kick threat. You needed someone to help you through this date so you reached for your phone, not caring that you were being rude. You scrolled through your texts until you found someone who was sure to put a smile on your face.
“Hi Alfred,” you texted and slipped your phone back into your bag, now eager for his text back.
For a minute everything was silent. Your entire date couldn’t last like this so you put on a smile and asked, “How was your day?”
Al smirked and you knew the moment he opened his mouth you were going to hear about his day and somehow be belittled the entire time. “You’ve probably never heard of it, but…”
You tuned out from there, instead focusing on the fact that your phone had buzzed with a text message and luckily a smile formed on your face. The only thing you did was smile and occasionally nod as Al went on with his long winded story, not shutting up until the food arrived.
Why did you keep on going on these dates? It always left you with any empty feeling the next day and you doubted he actually cared about you. What kept you with him? It certainly wasn’t his personality.
You took that time you grab your phone and text Alfred back.
“Hi, aren’t you on a date with Al?” he asked.
You frowned, “Yeah.”
His reply was a lot faster than you expected, “Why are you going out in the first place?”
You glanced at Al who was slumped over and poking at his food. You felt guilty. You should be focusing on him. He was paying and had introduced you to his “favorite” restaurant. With a sigh you quickly replied before switching your phone off and stuffing it back in your bag. “I have no idea.: (“
Giving Al a quick smile, you tried to forget your reply and tried to enjoy your time.
Now you remembered why you had agreed to the second date and beyond, why you went through the horrible dinner dates and mocking, why you put up with his perverted attitude and why you had trouble leaving him.
It was his hands, gently resting on your hips as he held you closer. His calloused fingertips rubbing circles on your covered thighs only to stray to your hair and press your lips impossibly close.
It was his lips, slowly moving against yours and hiding the smile he didn’t show anyone, only breaking away to whisper, “You look beautiful,” before they resumed work; sending electricity thought your lips, warmth to your fingertips, and a thudding beat to your heart.
And his voice, once rough and demanding was gentle and soft as he trailed more kisses down and across your neck, “Did you have fun tonight?” he asked, a smirk appearing on his lips that pressed close to your sweet spot.
You were having fun now and nodded, running your fingers through his dark brown hair. You shivered, though Al was warm and pressed close; the cold night air still reached you in the back of his eco-friendly truck. He seemed to notice this and pressed a kiss to your nose before climbing out leaving you with lingering warmth from his touches and wondering why you hadn’t started dating him sooner. He could be gentle and sweet. Maybe the only reason he acted that way was because he had an image to live up to. He seemed like the type to do that sort of thing.
But a second later the empty cold returned to the pit of your stomach. You had no idea what it was but you suddenly felt like you were lying to yourself. Al may be acting, using you for only one thing.
“Will this help?” he asked, climbing back in with a blanket in hand, breaking any thoughts that you had.
You smiled, “Yeah.”
Al wrapped the blanket around the two of you and pressed a quick sweet kiss to your lips that slowly morphed into passionate kiss, which ended with hickey’s covering your neck. Al had a smirk on his face the entire time.
You now knew what had twisted your stomach the night before, interrupting your pleasant thoughts about Al and replacing them with thoughts of doubt. You had been tricking yourself all along into thinking Al was possibly a good boyfriend. When you weren’t making out he was a jerk, but he could be just the sweetest when he wanted to shove his tongue down your throat.
And it only took a text message for you to realize that.
When Al dropped you off he lent you his jacket (to cover up the hickeys) and gave you one last good night kiss before driving off. The minute you stepped in the door you dug into your pocket for your phone, wanting to see if your parents would start freaking out since you “ignored” their texts.
That’s when you realized Alfred had texted you back.
“Hey (Name), maybe we should go out sometime?”
The warmth of Al’s kiss still lingered on your lips and your heart thudded in your chest. Alfred meant well. He was kind, charming, and soft in personality and appearance, always having a little extra pudge from all of the fast food he ate. He wasn’t one to care if someone messed up and he had been your friend for a long time.
Dating him actually sounded appealing.
“But what if he’s not a good kisser?” you thought and something twisted in your stomach. The sour look on your face was as sour as what was coming up in your throat. Who cared if he was a good kisser? A relationship should be based on more than just kissing.
Embarrassment burned your face, realizing the only reason you even stayed with Al was for that reason, besides that he was nothing. He never showed you kindness, or compassion, or interest in what you were saying. You shrugged off his jacket and went inside. Thankfully your parents didn’t make a fuss and you went straight up to your room.
Hanging Al’s jacket in your closet, you ran your fingers over the dark black leather that smelled of organic strawberry shampoo and dairy free veggie dip, a strange but pleasant combination. Your heart felt heavy and guilt twisted inside, but you had to suck it up. You had no doubt that you were in a bad relationship and needed to get out. You went over to your bed and picked up your phone.
“Can I come over tomorrow around eight?” you asked.
You knocked on his apartment door, his jacket clutched close to your chest for some comfort in the run- down apartment building that by some people’s standards; was still livable. But you also needed some courage, knowing that what was about to happen was going to be messy; and with his attitude; possibly dangerous.
Your heart thudded in the same rhythm of the footsteps heading toward the door; fast and furious. You must’ve interrupted something.
The door swung open. “What?” he barked.
You froze, clutching the jacket to your chest as the words got caught in your throat. Why did you have to be such a coward? Why was this so hard? He had been a jerk. The only times he had been sweet to you was when he was getting something out of the deal. You thought you had seen foam dripping from his mouth, angry incisors, and anger flash in his dark red eyes.
You bowed your head. You couldn’t look him in the eye, let alone squeak out the words. Your arms shook as you held the jacket out to him, waiting for a response.
His was reaching out and gently grabbing you by the arm, pressing a kiss against your forehead before saying; “You can keep it, it’ll show the other guys you’re my girl.”
“My girl,” ringing through your ears it sounded like a tag of ownership, not something a sweet, caring boyfriend would say, not something Alfred would say. It burned a hole in your mind, filled your eyes with tears, realizing all you were to him was a little plaything.
“No…” you said quietly, shoving the jacket against his chest.
Then you realized he still had a hold on your arm, a hold that grew stronger when you also shoved him away. “What?” he growled.
You squirmed and you swallowed the lump in your throat. Tears were pouring down your cheeks, but not because you felt sorry for breaking up with him. You were down right scared. “We…need to break up,” you squeaked, now trying to shove him away.
“Why?” he cried, tugging you closer.
A sob escaped and you tried to push him away, ready to call for help if things got any uglier. “Y-You don’t care about me,” you said.
His grip loosened, but his hand clamped down on your chin and forced you to look at him. He didn’t look hurt, he looked angry, materialistic, and savage, “I care about you plenty,” he spat.
You took a deep breath, swallowing back your sobs, and the tears, and building up your courage. You had to get out of there now. With one strong shove Al let go, with another push he stumbled back into his apartment, a look of shock on his face as he held his jacket. “There’s more to a relationship than kissing!” you screamed anger clearly in the poison you spat. “Good bye Al!” you said, and stomped down the hall.
As promised, you were at Alfred’s house at eight o’clock, but right now you wanted to go home and bury yourself under covers and tissues, finding comfort in chocolate and comedy movies.
Walking to Alfred’s house, you began to feel empty and cold, not because you didn’t have Al’s jacket, but because you also felt used, dirty, and like you had betrayed more people than yourself. You felt like you had been leading Al on this entire time, but deep down you also felt relieved that you had ended it.
And maybe Alfred would help that feeling grow. He had answered the door with his usual childish grin, but had a slice of warm pizza in hand.
“Hey, there you are. I was about to…” but he stopped when he realized you were upset.
For a moment there was an awkward pause and a warm hand was placed on your shoulder, “Hey….how about I call Matthew down and we just hang out? There’s plenty of pizza and he might share his maple ice cream. We can play video games and stuff.”
You glanced up. Alfred’s concern was sincere and so was his smile. You could see him as a friend, but also a really good…more than a friend.
And he understood you just weren’t ready for that kind of thing.
You wrapped your arms around him and let out a small sob, “Thanks Alfred,” you mumbled.
Alfred returned the hug, enveloping you in warmth, the smell of warm pizza and popcorn, and safety, “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said.
And there was no doubt that he cared for you.