Where the Stars Fall

21 | Shards

BAREFOOT ON THE glass-strewn floor, Olivia's body was stiff, on her face the expression of utter surprise at my spontaneous and, sure, completely irresponsible answer.

She looked at me for a few beats, her forehead creasing deeper and deeper, her eyes narrowing to note the explanation she would definitely hope to receive later.

"¿Otro amigo con derecho a roce?" Whether I was another friend with benefits, the stupid prick was inquiring, stressing another with his lips curved into a mocking smirk, jerking his chin towards me in a provocative manner.

"Filipe, vete ahora, por favor." She didn't reply to his provocation, though. Instead, she just asked him to leave in a politer way than the bastard deserved.

"¿Oye, tío, estás de rollo con ella o no?" Addressing me directly, he demanded to know if I was bonking her or not, on his face the same sarcastic smile. Anger was rising in his eyes, though.

"Hey, haven't you heard her?" I growled, with my fists clenching, exasperation simmering in my stomach too. "I think you've said more than enough. You should go now," I finished, permitting myself a sardonic half-grin.

"¿Qué? Es que no te entiendo," That he hadn't understood me, he said with a cynical smile and a note of sarcasm in his voice.

Sure, he had. Imbecile.

Boiling inside, I pinned him with a straightforward stare and pointed a threatening finger at him. "If you talk to her like that ever again, I'll break your fucking nose, you hear me? Now bugger off!"

"That's enough, you two!" Olivia yelled.

An icy silence fell over the room and her eyes stayed locked on mine, her mind probably trying to make some sense out of a situation that was about to reach cataclysmic levels of bad. As if dealing with an idiot wasn't bad enough, she was now between a rock and a hard place having to deal with two idiots, both of whom were claiming a woman who didn't belong to either of them.

In the end, I swallowed my own pride. "I'm sorry, you're right. I should leave now. It seems you still have a lot of things to sort out. I'll come back later."

"No! You're not the one who should go."

I wasn't? She wanted me to stay?

Then she faced him and told him in a voice that did not tremble, "Filipe, no hay nada más que decir. Vete ahora y no vuelvas más." That there was nothing left for them to say, that he should leave and never return.

With a mix of surprise and perplexity stamped on his face, he looked into her eyes as he weighed her words. "¿Es verdad? ¿Estás saliendo con este tío?" Was it true, that we were dating, he asked her again – right before a nervous hand began to rub across the back of his neck.

She didn't bother to reply. Her eyes darted from her feet to the other side of the room, to the entrance hall, then to the moron's face, and then back to mine. Tiptoeing around the broken glass, she headed to the door, pulling it open. With a head jerk, she invited him to step out.

He didn't follow immediately, he kept looking at her with narrowed eyes, waiting for her to answer.

She nodded. "Sí, es verdad."

It rocked me to the core when, with her deep green eyes peering into mine, so intently that my heart almost skipped a beat, she let that shy yes escape from her lips.

He snatched his jacket in a fury and paced towards the door, fuming like he was going to have someone killed – probably me – growling and snarling something I couldn't decipher, likely a dozen swear words.