Oblivious

40 // Crashing through

Akrasia
(n.) lack of self-control

-Elijah-

His back hits the floor.

I land awkwardly on top of him. Hands at his shoulders as I lift him only to slam him back down.

He groans underneath me. Tugging at his hair I slam his head into the ground. He tries to speak but I can't hear him.

All I can focus on is the memory of that night. Of me crashing through the door. The way he looked up at the sound, smirked at me, a knowing glint in know his eyes. How he was leaning down but she wasn't leaning up.

I'm pulled off of him by Ajax before I'm really able to do anything. He pushes at my chest, keeps me away from Meeks. But I'm staring over his shoulder and at the boy being helped up from the floor.

Meeks scowls at me, reaches a hand up and touches the back of his head. He notices a speck of blood on his finger, tuts at me.

"Now that's not very nice Elijah." Meeks shakes his head, clicking his tongue, like I'm a kid who's being disciplined.

My shoulders shake, eyes narrowed, fist clenched at my side. I ignore his reprimand, ask a question of my own, "Do you like her?"

Either of his answers will end badly. He says yes and I'll be forced to kill him. Can't be having competition for the love of my life. He says no and I'll lunge again. Because then he'd have purposely sabotaged us for no reason other than because he wanted to.

Meeks narrows his eyes, assesses the situation, shrugs, says, "Yeah I like her."

Ajax isn't strong enough to hold me back.

His back hits the floor again. My fist is slamming down. Over and over again. The crack of his nose is barely audible through the blood pumping in my ears.

Arms are at my shoulders, pulling me back. I fight against them, realise I'm losing, and decide to kick with my legs instead.

One foot meets his stomach, Meeks doubles over into a feral position, helping my other foot to make contact with the side of his head.

Eventually I'm dragged across the room. But I'm still angry and I'm still kicking. And my arms are still swinging. One hit eventually lands. But it's not on the person I was aiming for.

Casey's face snaps to the side.

All movements pause.

Casey closes his eyes, spits out blood.

The room stills. Nobody moves. Breathing ceases to exist.

I'm a fairly strong guy, could hold my own in a fight. Every person is this room I would consider a challenge.

But Ajax isn't the type of person you mess with.

He's not as buff as Dalton. Not as fast as Valentin. Isn't as sneaky as Meeks. Isn't as angry as me.

But when push comes to shove, you don't want to be on the receiving end of one of Casey's pushes.

He pushes and pushes relentlessly. Doesn't know when to stop. He just keeps hitting and hitting. Fuck the consequences. Fuck the person on the receiving end. All that matters to him is that his hits land.

His head turns slowly. Meets my eyes. Narrows them. Clenches and unclenches his fist. Nods once. In the sort of way that says 'we'll finishes this later'.

Then he turns his head and looks at Meeks over his shoulder. "Fucks your problem?"

Meeks, who's now standing, barely, and holding a hand to his probably broken and definitely bleeding nose, raises an eyebrow at him. "My problem?" He points his free hand in my general direction, but his visions to distorted to actually land on me. "This fucker attacks me and I'm the one with a problem?"