Score •• louis a.u.

chapter 17

I aggressively wipe my wet eyes and stare into the darkness in front of us. Louis doesn’t say a word and I sniffle, thankful for the silence. I can practically hear his thoughts and I cringe. What have you done?

“I—I’m so sorry, Louis,” I whisper, my voice barely audible. I feel him rather than see him scoot closer to me and wrap his arm around my shoulders, pulling me toward him. I shove away my feelings of unprofessionalism and allow myself to bury my face in the crook of his neck.

“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it. You just accomplished what every single person on this team has wanted to do since day one,” Louis whispers in my ear, trying to lighten the mood. I don’t laugh.

“I can’t believe I touched him. I can’t believe I bloody touched him!”

“Trey, things happen. He deserved it anyway.”                                                                      

I pull my head out from between his neck and shoulder and search for his eyes in the dark. I can’t see him so I estimate his face location.

“How can you be ok with this? How can you sit here and honestly tell me that that man deserved the beating I just gave him? How can you say that to me? I’m his coach for fuck’s sake! I don’t get a free pass, Louis!” I harshly whisper, sniffling forcefully. Louis sighs next to me.

“Maybe I shouldn’t be ok with this. But I am and you have to deal with that. I know you wouldn’t have done anything unless he struck a nerve and he obviously did. Everyone gets angry once in a while.” I can tell he’s trying to reason with me but I just won’t have it.

“That was the most unprofessional thing I have ever done,” I breathe in defeat. Louis chuckles next to me. I glare sharply in the general direction of his eyes and push him.

“It’s not funny,” I mumble, resting my head back against the tree.

“Sorry. You’re just so obsessed with this image of being proper and it’s quite amusing. I can tell you right now John doesn’t care whether you’re professional or not.”

“But I care,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. The word ‘professional’ has been the only word branded into my head since I got the job. Image in a work environment is everything to me and I just screwed it all up. Louis hasn’t moved his arm from my shoulders so the warm weight is distracting me quite a bit.

“How’s your hand?” Louis asks, changing the subject. I silently thank him and shrug my shoulders.

“I dunno.”

“Let me see it,” he demands, flicking the flashlight on and pointing the light straight into my eyes.

“Ow! Ok, I’ll show you!” I shriek, my retinas feeling like they are on being dipped in acid.

I slowly bring my hand into the beam of the flashlight and gasp in surprise. My knuckles on my right hand are split open with a little stream of blood oozing out. Some nails on my right hand are chipped and bloody as well. I bring my left hand into the light and it’s clean, not a scratch or mark anywhere.

“You need medical attention Trey,” Louis sighs next to me, gently taking my hand in his. I flinch away from his light graze of my knuckles but otherwise sit still.

“Don’t start that again.”

“I’m serious! You broke the skin when you punched Scott so your hand could get infected. Come on, let’s get back to camp.” Louis stands up and moves to pull me up as well but I resist him.