The Fighter

Chapter 6

|Andy|

He was pissed that I dragged him away. He was pissed Jack had even talked to me. It was evident as he drove back to my house. I sat tensely in the passenger's seat, hoping he didn't do anything suicidal. He didn't say anything when you got there, just slammed the door and walked up to the door.
"Simon," I whispered, but he just shoved the door open and went in. It wasn't my fault that it had happened, but he was making it seem like it. "Simon–"
"I'll be back in a few hours." I sighed and went upstairs to change, hoping all he needed was space.

|Simon|

I knew all of the stuff that had happened wasn't Andy's fault, but that didn't mean I wasn't mad. I didn't want to take it out on her, so I left, found the nearest pub, and got myself a drink.
"Hi, handsome," a pretty blonde said, sitting down on my lap.
"Why can I help you with, sexy?"
"There are lots of things you could help me with."
"Just show me the way then." She got me to my feet and led me down a hallway at the back to where there were some other rooms.
"I'm going to need lots of help."

|Andy|

Simon came stumbling through the door at around two in the morning, reeking of perfume. He didn't see me first thing, so I backed up into the kitchen and tried to collect my thoughts.
"Andy, where are you?" His speech was starting to slur, proving he'd been out drinking. "Andy, get in here." I walked into the living room, only to be slammed up against a wall. "I missed you, kitten."
"Simon, you're drunk."
"I;m sober enough to know that you're hot and I want you on me."
"Stop, this isn't like you.."
"Maybe it is."
"I refuse to believe that."
"Andy, I've just been in bed with two other girls, do you really doubt it that much?"
"Let go of me and get out of my house."
"No."
"I'm not some defenseless spoiled brat. Get out of my house before I put you out of it."
"Oh, I'm so sc–OW." I'd taken a swing at him mid-sentence. He didn't take to kindly to that, grabbing my wrist and dragging me over to the couch. I was trying to get away from him the entire time, scared he'd hit me back.
"Simon, let go, please."
"Lay down, Andy."
"Simon–"
"Lay down. Now." When I didn't move he kind of threw me down, climbing on top of me and pressing his knees against my hips. "Be a good girl for me, kitten."
"Simon, stop. Please stop."
"That's not very good, now is it, kitten?" I let out a loud scream, startling him. "Andy, what did I–I didn't actually–I didn't, did I?" I bit my lip and shook my head, felling tears well up in my eyes.

|Simon|

I knew I messed up when I heard her scream. Andy wasn't the type of girl to put up with a guy doing she didn't like. After she made it known I hadn't, in fact, hurt her or done something very wrong to her. I left. She was crying and I was only going to make it worse. I sat in my car in the driveway, hoping maybe I'd catch glimpses of her.
I only saw her once, going to lock the front door. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen and her hair was a mess. I wanted so badly to get out of the car and go comfort her, but I figured she needed space.

|Andy|

Why he was sat outside in his car, I didn't know. I wanted him to leave, to give me even more reason to be mad at him, but he didn't. A little part of me wanted him to come back and try to fix things, but that didn't seem to be on his radar.
I cried myself to sleep that night, questioning where I'd gone wrong.