The Rise Of CuteGuy

I'm......sorry

B-Duds pov:

As soon as Grian left the room, the echo of the slap still ringing in the air, I felt a cold wave of dread wash over me. The silence was deafening, the kind that squeezes your chest and makes every second stretch out painfully. I didn’t know what had come over me, why I’d lashed out like that. My hand was still tingling from the impact, but all I could think about was the look in Grian’s eyes before he bolted—shock, confusion, maybe even fear.

Mumbo was the first to move, his face twisted in a way I’d never seen before. He wasn't the calm, collected Mumbo I knew. His fists were clenched so tightly I could see the veins bulging on his arms. His voice, usually so measured, came out in a low, seething growl, "What the hell were you thinking, BDubs?"

Scar, on the other hand, was eerily quiet, his eyes burning with a controlled rage that made my stomach twist. He took a slow step toward me, his gaze never leaving mine, and I could see the fury simmering beneath his calm exterior. He didn’t need to say anything for me to know just how badly I had screwed up. The air was thick with tension, every breath feeling like a struggle as I tried to find the words to explain myself, but nothing came out.

Etho, usually the one to diffuse situations, stood back, arms crossed, his eyes narrowed as he watched me. There was no trace of his usual playful smirk—just a cold, assessing stare that made me feel like I was shrinking under his gaze.

And then there was Xisuma, who hadn’t said a word but whose disappointment was palpable. He didn’t need to raise his voice; his silence was louder than any yell could have been. The weight of it pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe, hard to think.

The room felt like it was closing in, the walls too close, the air too thick. I wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but every time I opened my mouth, the words died in my throat. They didn’t need to yell; their anger was more terrifying in its quietness.

Scar finally spoke, his voice low and dangerous, "You better have a damn good explanation, BDubs. Because if you don’t, I swear…" He trailed off, but the threat was clear, hanging in the air like a dark cloud.

I swallowed hard, my mouth dry, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew, without a doubt, that I had crossed a line—a line I might never be able to come back from. And as the silence stretched on, the weight of what I had done settled in, a cold knot of fear tightening in my gut.

"I got tired of him being evasive. He wasn't giving us a straight answer," I blurted out, my voice trembling more than I’d like. The words felt hollow, even to me. I knew they didn’t believe it, and deep down, I didn’t either. Grian was trying to give us an answer—I could see that now, but in the moment, something had come over me. A haze of purple clouded my vision, and it felt like I wasn’t in control, like something else was driving me. But how could I explain that? How could I tell them that all I could see through that haze were Grian's eyes, wide and almost knowing, as if he understood something I didn’t? It made me furious—angry in a way that scared me.

I tried to explain, but the words tangled in my mouth. I stammered, stumbling over each sentence, my voice shaky and weak. The more I tried to speak, the more their anger pressed in around me, suffocating me. I could feel their eyes on me—burning holes through me, their judgment heavy in the air.

My hands fumbled with the tassels of my moss hoodie, twisting and untwisting them, anything to distract myself from the weight of their stares. But it didn’t help. I could still feel the room closing in, their disappointment, their rage—it was suffocating. My fingers moved faster, fidgeting with anything they could find, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was sinking, deeper and deeper into a pit I’d dug myself.