Make Me Learn

3 - Patience

Silence in response to something I said was worse than an actively negative reply, in my opinion. At least I could get angry at an existing response, fight my corner, prove - to both myself and the person who had reacted - that I was in the right. But silence, specifically Louis's silence after my words, tended to settle as a little ball of anxiety in my stomach.

It stretched on too long. Seconds warped into minutes. I was beginning to regret my outburst just before Louis finally spoke.

"You didn't use a safeword, did you?"

I froze. My tongue tripped over a few times, then forced out an accusing "What?"

He should have been yelling at me. He should have been telling me I was a freak, a sex offender. He should have looked at me with disgust tainting those still blue eyes, with his lip curled slightly and his expression hard.

"A safeword. You didn't use one, did you?"

Was he mocking me?

"We didn't need a safeword," I gritted out. The muscles in my jaw clenched. I knew it. Knew he wouldn't understand.

His expression remained impassive. Controlled. "Evidently, you did." But his eyes flickered and moved over me, scrutinising. Judging me, no doubt. Hating me with each glance.

I'd had enough. Hands coiling into fists, I let my voice raise of its own accord. The alcohol poisoning my bloodstream made it so much easier.

"You really think you can tell me about safewords? You know jack shit about BDSM! Jack shit!"

He looked at me, solid in the eye. The stillness in his expression tossed water right over my anger. Extinguished within seconds. How could one glance have so much authority?

"You have no idea."

I felt my heart thump. The tension thickened, weighted down with his stare, that cool tone. It reminded me of Lester's, when he was pissed - really pissed off, not just blowing his fuse over something that had happened in an athletics competition. He had his outbursts, and they were red hot and ended in some muddy fight. But Louis's tone cast my mind back to when someone had said something highly derogatory and distasteful about one of Lester's girlfriends last year.

I glared back. But I knew I couldn't carry the same weight. I couldn't even find the words to reply.

"Let me tell you two things, kid." The surface of his tone was calm, smooth as a millpond, although the undertones told quite the opposite story. He'd changed. Gone were the gentle voice and hospitable actions. "I know a lot more than your ego allows you to believe I do. And everyone needs a safeword."

I scoffed. "Right. Of course you fucking do. Watched Fifty Shades and now you're an expert? That it?"

Louis's lips tightened into a line. He looked away, fingers curling then uncurling. He inhaled through his nose.

Through the alcohol and red gaze, doubt wormed into my gut. Had I pushed too far? It wouldn't surprise me. Mum always said I was an aggravator. It's what my teachers told me in every report. Even my supposedly best mate agreed with that. You're a real pusher, man. It's gonna get you punched if you're not careful.

"No one's asking you to stay," he said eventually, having regained his oh-so-mature composed tone. "You clearly don't want to be here." He sighed and looked at me. "Go home."

My words froze on my tongue. I imagined going home now, walking in through the front door and dealing with my mum's distraught expression and her damn boyfriend. I left the house to let my emotions down slowly, not fire them back up again.