Bulletproof girl scouts

War

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RM's POV

The appropriate word would be 'stunned'.

She stared.

I gulped.

"You did not have to do that", I finally found my voice.

She narrowed her eyes while frowning. "...what?", she rasped. It sounded like an accusation.

I took deep breaths. "I don't want you to feel compelled in giving something back. I don't want you to do this because you feel indebted to me in some kind of way..", she narrowed her eyes even more as I spoke, "..you don't have to thank me, you know...I-I-uh, whatever I did for you was because I wanted to. I never-"

"Shut the fuck up...", she grit through her teeth.

I froze, mouth still open for the words I was going to say. She ran both her hands over her scalp, fingers catching in her hair. She shut her eyes, breathed a hard, ragged breath and let out a suppressed scream. Sprawled on the floor with an aching behind, I felt every fibre of my being stiffen at my major screw up. The curses raced in my mind at an ungodly speed, abusing the right of way to ignore all stop signs.
Fuck

Her eyes snapping open and landing on me were similar to a guillotine. Sharp glinting razor tied with the promise of death.

I closed my mouth and resigned to my fate.

"YOU CHAUVINISTIC BASTARD!"

My mouth gaped of its own accord.

Pure, tangible rage reflected in her glassy eyes. She moved, and out of terror for what she might do, I pulled my legs towards me. She crouched next to my terrorised being, sitting on her ankles. She cocked her head, peering at me with furrowed brows. I gulped.

Dad?

"..I-"

"Shut up", she seethed, cutting me off.

Abbeoji. If the dieties wonder why your young boy suddenly lost his voice, recall this instance.

She stared into my soul, the overpowering aura reminding me of the first time I had witnessed this deadly energy. Leeteuk had been humiliated on live television. My heart rate spiked and I had the urge to crawl into a hole and die.
     The energy waves glitched for a second, and I caught the glimpse of an emotion in her eyes that could only be identified as hurt.

"I don't need your pity", she stated in a flat voice. She looked away immediately and stood up. She turned around to give me her back and stood very still with her head held high.
"Get out"

The indifference in her tone was like a door slamming shut. She could have slapped me and I wouldn't have known the difference. It took time for me to regain my senses after the shock. I kept staring at her back with uncertainty. Her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides and I was sick with the realisation that I had to indeed get out. I gathered my limbs and staggered to my feet. I stood up but the soles of my feet were glued to the floor, unmoving even as I willed them to. My eyes kept following the rise and fall of her shoulders as she took in labored breaths. Her fists started to tremble and I knew she was waiting for me to leave.
    I tore away my eyes and then my feet which felt like they were tied down with weights. I trudged to the door, regret rising like bile in my throat with every step I took. Every footfall sounded like a bad decision. The feeling in my gut that something was wrong. My insides twisting as I pulled open the door. I stopped. An invisible force kept me from walking past the door and closing it behind me.