Can you Feel my heart?

Contagious {Austin}

Yelling. Screaming actually. Glass shattered and Heather's high pitched wail resonated up the stairs. Oliver was sleeping softly, the blankets curled around him. Swaddled in safety. I pulled myself from the bed, my body achy and cold. My head throbbed and I felt like I was going to vomit. I pulled open the door and stalked down the stairs, the arguments heat fanning my face. I came to the kitchen, dodging a coffee cup as it came whizzing by my head. Heather was cornered, cowering beside the stove. My father stood over her, his hand raised. I hurried over the marble floor, shoving him away from her.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

I put my body between them. He had a wild look in his eye, his breaths choppy.

"Be a fucking man for once. Don't hit your wife."

He came close to my face, the veins in his neck straining. His cheeks were red and breath so hot against me.

"You don't know what this slut has been up to."

I couldn't help but chuckle.

"And you don't know that I know what you did to mom."

His anger swelled.

"You don't know shit."

I smirked.

"What if I do?"

I felt Heather's hand on the back of my leg, her fingers trembling. His hand was raised again, but he stood under me, my height eclipsing him.

"What are you going to do? Fucking hit me."

He was white knuckled, his fist shaking.

"Do it!"

I yelled. He punched me, fist catching the side of my nose, bending the ring against my cheek. It stung, but it struck me like a match. I grabbed his shirt and flung him back, his side colliding into the counter top. I was on him, my fists hitting his chest, shoulders. It was blind rage, and for a second I was thrown back to when it was Alan, not my father, who I was hitting. Shock made me drop him, the shock that was in those big doe eyes. I looked at Oliver, his face flushed. Heather stood behind him, their presence filling the doorway. I saw my father knocked out on the floor. My knees were weak, my hands trembling. He came to my side, my body crumpling into him. He held me in a tight embrace. It was caring hands that covered me. He was speaking to me, but I felt that I was under water. He touched my face, fingers slick from the tiny trickle of blood that came from my nose.

"Austin."

His voice was lulling. He was pulling me away, back towards the stairs. Heather met my eyes, gratitude swimming across her face. He lead me to the bathroom, made me sit. He gently dabbed a washcloth over my face. I looked at him, searching for his eyes. He briefly met them. He pulled out my nose ring, the awkward shape painful pulling through the swollen skin. He dabbed up the blood, sighing.

"You're my little mess."

He placed a kiss to the end of my nose. I grabbed his waist, carefully burying my face against his chest. His fingers ran through my hair, tangling in the dark strands.

"I'll never loose control with you."

I said, voice weak.

"I never doubted that you would."

He replied. He pulled away, holding his hand out to me. I took it, him leading me to my bed. I laid down, leaving room for him. Instead he leaned over me, kissing me. It was intimate. Sensitive. I grabbed his forearm, attempting to pull him on top of me. He resisted.

"No, I need to let you rest now."

Another kiss. He pulled up mt comforter, tucking me in. He gave me a smile, something that glittered in his eyes. He cared for me. Protective. With a promise of seeing each other tomorrow, he placed a kiss to my cheek. He walked away, his hand on the door. Before he closed it behind him, he glanced back to me. His smile was delicate, and I felt just as fragile. As the door shut with a soft click, a tear rolled down my face. The only thing separating me was a closed door, and that space felt infinitely too large.