Lionheart

Chapter 16

(Third Person)

 He could hear her cleaning up the mess he made earlier in his rage. He knew his ice princess would eventually figure out just how screwed up he really was. She's too smart not to and he knows this is going to form a massive rift between the two if it wasn't there already. She would never be able to trust him now because he is no different than the people that hurt her.

She was never his to begin with.

Not that he wanted her or anything to do with her anyways. Or did he?

When he started giving into the poison, he thought the waves of guilt would disappear. But those faces came to him more vividly like they were in the room with him. They all glared in distaste as his resolve began to crumble. After that nothing about what he did was pretty. He thrashed about, throwing the bottles making them shatter.

Just like his heart that was shattered long ago. Now his heart is just the dust that fills his lungs making them feel heavier than ever before.

This to him was nothing new.

He would always promise himself in the morning he would never give in again. The people around him greet him and he enjoys most of their company. But when he would come back to his empty apartment his demons would be waiting.

That's when he would realize just how alone he really was.

He would fight so damn hard to ignore them, the voices that he'd silenced that had a price on their head. But the whisky promised him escape, it promised him the numbness he craved. When it became too much he gave in, letting the corrupt liquid take its course into his system. Only then would he realize that, just like other nights, it would not work. The bodies that piled on his shoulders would only become heavier.

This pissed him off.

It made his blood boil.

And right about now he has reached the final level of that vicious cycle. Where he starts telling himself it will never happen again. But instead on this night he is thinking of the woman that stormed in and pushed him across the room. The woman that snapped him out of almost hurting Snyder.

He was angry at her force. Angry that she had stopped him from continuing his rampage. Her soft voice favored his spinning head making it even harder for him to think. Then she had the audacity to question him about his problems. He hated that she saw right through his bullshit remarks. He hated that she could see his rage.

She's dangerous.

Very dangerous.

He knew that the right thing to do would be to apologize. But right now he was too drunk to give a damn. He wanted her to be mad at him. He wanted the whole world to be mad at him. He wanted them to be as angry as he felt.

It felt good to piss her off the way he did. It felt good to know he wasn't the only angry one in the room.

He turned over on his side and before closing his eyes to slip under he heard his bedroom door open. He shut his eyes not wanting to talk to anyone anymore, especially her. He felt the bed sink behind him from where she sat. She sighed heavily and sniffled, "When will all the running stop?" she mumbled. Her voice cracked then she quickly exited the room before he could say anything.

Was she crying?

He didn't want to hurt her, he just wanted to piss somebody off.

Now when his eyes closed all he felt was guilt.

Again.

                                                               ********************************************