Bad Things

13. My Girl

  More than anything I want to see you, girl
Take a glorious bite out of the whole world.

- Snow Patrol. 

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Warning:

The heat index on this chapter gets pretty warm at the end. This is a bit different from any citrusy scenes you may be used to from me because, as with all of this fic, I'm being a bit more realistic and literal. I am still not overly descriptive, nor do I use vulgar terms. but I think you should know that this does ring truer to real life, including awkwardness and frank discussion.

Enjoy!

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Even though Shawn expected the impact, he hadn't prepared himself for how much it was actually going to hurt. It wasn't the smashing of his shoulder blades into the cool metal behind him, or even the apparent hit to the mouth—evidenced by the coppery tinge of blood on his tongue—but the excruciating pain from where Carlos's knuckles dug into Shawn's already bruised chest. He could feel it pulsing through him like another heartbeat—an agonizingly unbearable heartbeat—and did his best not to grimace or give any other indication to his discomfort. There was no way he'd give Carlos Cabello the satisfaction.

Carlos pulled against Shawn's shirt and shoved him back against the lockers again, his hand slamming into the center of his chest once more. "What the hell are you doing with my sister?" he shouted into Shawn's face, his eyes wide and spit flying from his mouth.

Shawn wanted to respond with something asshole-ish and witty, but he couldn't breathe, let alone talk. God-damn Keira. Now he was going to look like a complete dick, panting and trying not to pass out while Shawn crushed his chest further.

"Answer me, dickhead!"

"Carlos," Camila said, her voice wavering. "Stop. Just—stop, so we can talk."

"I don't want to talk to you," Carlos snarled. "I want to talk to him." His eyes narrowed into thin, black slits. "What the hell do you think you're doing with my sister?"

Shawn finally drew in a breath and curled his fist at his side, but before he had a chance to speak, his eyes caught Camila's. They were so big and scared that as much as he wanted to kick the living shit out of Cabello, he knew he couldn't. Not in front of her. Damn it all to hell. His fist loosened and he glared back at Carlos.

"You better talk, asshole, or I'll make you." Carlos's grip on Shawn's shirt tightened, and Shawn could feel his knuckles digging in again.

"Then go for it," Shawn said, readying himself to be hit. "I don't have to tell you shit."