Playing Mr. Perfect (18+)

Understanding (5)

Greyson

"Are you sure you are okay?" I asked for the tenth time, moving out of the way as Roxy stormed past me. She had already bodychecked me twice. For a short, tiny thing, she sure was solid. My ribs still hurt from the last one. I could have sworn she had dug her elbow in on purpose.

She didn't even look my way as she moved behind the easel once more. "I said I was fine. Stop fucking asking and get up into position." She spit the words, her voice cold steel, full of vehemence as she began to mix new paint.

Sighing with resignation, I climbed up onto the bed, lying in position as I pulled the sheet over my midsection. Roxy had been angry from the moment I arrived. When I confronted her about the sleeping beauty thing, she insisted she was over that. I believed her. Something else was going on, and all of her anger was directed at me. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what I had done.

"30 more minutes. That's it Roxy. 30 minutes." She muttered to herself as her hand moved vigorously over the easel, her head popping around it every so often to look at me. Although she never truly looked at me. She looked through me. Or around me. But never at me. Never in the eyes.

Time seemed to slow. Those 30 minutes dragged on for what seemed like forever. By the time she dropped her paintbrush, she was huffing, her chest heaving, sweat dripping from her forehead. She looked like she had run a marathon. I jumped up from the bed, wrapping the white sheet around my waist as I did so, rushing to her side. Grabbing the water bottle on the table, I popped the lid off and extended it to her, trying to get her to meet my gaze.

Ignoring me completely, she turned her back to me, walking over to the mini fridge and grabbing a new water bottle out.

"What the fuck, Rox?" I reacted before I could stop myself, slamming the bottle down on the table full of paint.

Big mistake.

Roxy spun around so fast that her hair whipped around wildly, falling from the loose bun on her head. Her eyes finally met mine and I winced with the amount of anger that was pouring out of them in my direction. She stormed toward me, her arms shooting outward as she neared, shoving hard against my chest and knocking me backward.

"Fuck!" I cried out as I felt myself falling backward, reaching for the only thing in front of me. Her.

Paint splattered around us as the table broke beneath our weight, both of us falling hard to the ground on top of it. Roxy's eyes widened as she pushed herself into a sitting position on top of me, looking around at the bottles of paint that had squirted everywhere. We were lying in a pool of rainbow wetness.

Roxy clenched her teeth as she picked up a bottle, her hand coated in paint before she threw it towards the bed. "Are you fucking kidding me!?" She shrieked as her hand came down hard, smacking my bare chest, paint splattering beneath the blow. "You asshole!"

The laughter bubbled up from deep inside before I could stop it. "This is my fault? You were the one who pushed me!"

Her hand shot out, this time aiming for my face. I caught her wrist before she could strike, flipping our bodies in one solid motion before she could realize what was happening.

She gasped as I slammed her hands down into the pooling paint above her head, holding her in place before she could try to strike again. "What in the hell is going on, Roxy?"

Her lips pursed together, drawing tightly as she inhaled deeply, and her eyes squeezed shut. "Get the fuck off of me, Greyson."

"No." Refusing, I held her in place, my determination taking over. "Not until you tell me what is going on."