The Boy with Bad Habits

Chapter 53

"Ow," I voiced in an annoyed tone as Willow dabbed my swollen cheekbone gently.

"Hold still and maybe it won't hurt as much," she scolded like a mother would a child. Her other hand grazed my cheeck to still the movement of my writhing. In all honesty, I enjoyed the close proximity but not under the given circumstances.

"What he said about me wasn't worth it Ace," she sighed while applying a little more pressure.

I winced, Willow was sitting on the edge of the couch near me as I sprawled out across it nearly taking up the entire piece of furniture. Yet it didn't comfort me at all hearing what she said. Did she really expect me not to defend her?

It pissed me off beyond words hearing Blake's offensive comments directed to her. He knew it would trigger a reaction, just not in the way he expected. Bastard.

"Don't you dare think what he said was okay, because it wasn't. And I'll be damned if I let him ridicule a girl who has done no harm to anyone." I stated strongly whilst sitting up on the couch no longer allowing her to tend to me. "You don't deserve that."

She put the rag down and her head slightly tilted to the ground-embarrassed. The way she sat was so proper, stiff, and meek. I didn't favor seeing her uncomfortable, but noticing how stunning her dark hair fanned both sides of her flawless face kept me momentarily entranced.

"You don't deserve to get beaten up because of me either," she said just above a whisper.

Scoffing at this, "Keep in mind, the only reason they had the upper hand was because I was out of breath from running. I can stick up for myself Willow. You on the other hand...."

Letting it hang in the air, her lovely brown eyes reached mine, "You don't understand," she shook her head defeatedly, "My reputation as a normal highschool student has already been obliterated. Sticks and stones may bre-"

"Bullshit. A person can beat the hell out of you and the wounds will heal physically. Words will always replay in your mind and destroy you regardless." I surprised myself by saying this. Maybe it was because growing up, people didn't pick on me with their fist. Them mentioning about my 'dead' parents or being an orphan would always stick with me.

She stared at me curiously, "How would you know?"

"Common sense," I evaded not really up to explain.

"Well thank you," her gaze never wavered and added on to the intensity.

"For what?"

Willow exhaled heavily, "Even though you shouldn't have, thank you for sticking up for me. I'm in your debt for that."

"I don't do that 'you owe me' shit Willow. I'm not in the fuckin' mafia prone to what you may have orginally thought." I ripped away from her eyes and layed right back on the couch with my head on top of the leather cladded arm.

She giggled a little at that, "I never assumed you were in the mafia. But I couldn't help but wonder whether or not Spiderman screams gangster." Her struggle to contain laughter made me smile.

"All I'm saying is, if you saw a spider in your room one second, turned, and it was gone the next, best believe I'd shit bricks," Willow's eyes crinkled and her two prominent dimples appeared hearing this. She laughed genuinely and I couldn't help but join in and marvel at the sight.