The Ways He Fall

34 | did you make her smoke weed

Andre ^

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☬

34



I HATED WEAKNESS.

Last time I threw hard punches was towards Hellfire. It ended up with me being mentally insecure with myself, like I was not good enough to beat him up. I still couldn't. But with that roach that tries to leech on Franco's girl, it's different. The anger took over rather than the pride. The image of him holding up a pocket knife about to fucking slice her in front of me. Hijo de puta. I thought Hellfire was worse, this one is a whole another brute. A psychopath.

Why the fuck is he trying to murder her? For what reason? That piece of shit harass Sophia because he fancied her, but Milana? She had only physically hurt him just a little and yet he's trying to take her life.

Is he actually psychotic or am I missing something?

"Perez, sit."

Her voice instructed me when we reach the living room. She jogged to the small corridor as I sat myself on the couch. I spied on the familiar surroundings as my eyes froze back at the television. Leaning my head back, I took a heavy breath. I really need something to calm myself down. My heartbeat is still speeding up like crazy. Rage is still boiling inside me. I should've killed him, shouldn't I? He was about to take her life.

No, you can't fucking do that. How many people would see you as a psycho as well? You'd go to jail. The sound of her footsteps disturbed my thoughts as she came back towards my spot before holding out an aid kit — setting it down on the coffee table in front of me. I reach for the remote and held it.

"Can I turn it on?" I asked.

She briefly nodded towards me for a second, grabbing the object resting on top of the aid kit. I browsed through the channels. News? No. Sports? No. Gossip talk? Fuck no. My thumb stopped fiddling with the buttons when I see nature in front of me. Ah, national geographic. Nothing makes me more calm than looking at scenery. As my gaze was fixated on the screen, I felt something warm held my swollen one.

Her petite hand held my palm and gently turn it upside down. Her other hand squeezed out white cream from the bottle onto her palm. She smoothed out the cream on my bruised knuckles and carefully spread it. Huh, she looked like an expert. I gritted my teeth, even when she's not pressing on my skin, it still stings. Fuck, that familiar feeling of pain. It hurts more than I remembered.

She glanced up at me with worry in her eyes but when she caught me staring, she immediately avoided eye contact. Am I that intimidating? Is she still scared of me because of earlier?

"You okay?" She asked, quietly.

My eyes stole a brief look at her again. Her thick wavy brown hair cascading down on the side as her head tilted below to look at my hand and bit her lower lip. My gaze lowered to her unkept white dress shirt with the top left unbuttoned as her collar sticks out. Fuck my eyes. I could look at her for as long as I want to but that will creep her out.

Control your damn hormones.

I gave her a silent yes before looking back at the screen, trying to hide my pain away. I really hated showing weakness, especially towards someone that's her that probably see me nothing but a big bully.

What is wrong with my fucked up mind?

"You can stay here if you want. Y—Your hand. You shouldn't be driving." She wrapped a bandage around my palm and my knuckles. God, I can't let Blaire see this. I can't deal with questions right now, and I seriously can't deal with her thinking I went underground fighting again. Should I stay? Maybe Milana would silently mind it. I pursed my lips.