Wanting Her

Chapter 28

-HIM-

"Ethan!"

I stirred a little in my sleep. My consciousness is already on the summit of its waking.

Will shouted again, calling him and his voice nearing. His voice is so loud. This time, he's fully awake. Aware that Will has already nearing his room.

He felt regret giving him the set of his key house.

Damn.

The door of his bedroom opened widely. "He's back!" Will shouted. "Seriously, and you didn't even think to fucking tell me!" He continued.

"Fucking shut up Will." My pillow as my shield to block my view as well as my hearing from him.

"And worse, I have to hear it from everybody else on town." He said in exasperation.

"Don't be such a baby." I said in a bored tone.

"No, you don't be such a baby. Get up before I kick your ass off your bed." His feet is pushing my body.

"Get out before I kick your ass off my house." I throw my pillow straight on his ugly face. Bullseye.

When he has recovered from my outcome, he was trying to throw the pillow back at me, but stops midway. "What the fuck happen to you." He hissed.

It was never a shocking that Will have never liked him going there. He hated it. He loathed it even. But somehow even that, can't stop him from going.

I look away clenching my jaw, eyebrows meet together, a clear disdain about his question. Looking at him with stern eyes, "None of your fucking business." Looking away again.

"Did you go to that filthy of a place again?" He lunged forward but stops when I stare at him.

"Fuck, Ethan. Don't do this man. You're hurting yourself." His breathing was hard, and to top it all off, his fingers is threading his hair.

"Get out. Get the fuck out Will." My voice and body are on the edges.

"Please, man. Let me help you." His voice pleading.

It was hard. Hard to understand. Even harder to let people in.

"Get the fuck out." Standing up and go into the bathroom, slamming the door along the way. Hoping that Will will be out before I'm out.

It's been long since I went there. The underground fighting. The place where it filled with rage of people who thirst to hurt, who thirst to destroy, who thirst for blood.

The only place that I could find relief. The only place.

The place was very conventionally filthy, the smell of bloods and sweaty mixed together was never an abnormality. Sometimes it is also mixed with vomit stench. The grunts and the punching sounds surrounded and cornered every space of the place.

It was hazardous and only befitting for someone who also looks for killing something. In my case, my pain.

I look at myself in the mirror, the bruises had become purple, contrast to my skin. The cuts on my face were properly healing, but it is still a grimaced to look at.

I open the tap and watch my face. Wincing slightly when my face hit the cold water and to my cuts.

Taking a deep breathe. I open the door and angered washed over me, like a sharp waterfall. Will is at the center of my bed, elbows on his knees, both hands covering his face.

"You don't seem to get the message." I said in a sharp tone.

"Tell me the fuck is wrong! Tell me and don't let me under the fucking shadow!" He shouted. His body shot to stand.

"I have nothing to tell you! Fucking nothing! Now get out!" I yelled back.

"You know you can't get rid of me ever Eath. You can't forever shut that fucking mouth of yours."

I ignored him and get out of the bedroom. The way Will said it, makes the dizziness presence and throbbed my head. I don't need this right now. I don't want to meet anyone right now.

I don't want to hear any other voices, because my inner turmoil is already shitting with my head.

I need to be the fuck alone. Why can't anyone get that.

He followed me to the kitchen. On top of the island table, there are takeouts I know Will has brought over here.

I take a glass and fill it with water before gulping down hoping it could smothered the burning fire in my chest.

Like we haven't been throwing words and throats to each other just now, Will takes the foods out of the paper bag and began to eat. I also eat sitting opposite of him. After he has done, he go to the living room, watching footballs.

I sat a bit far from him on the couch. We didn't say a word. Until I saw on the corner of my eyes, his mouth is trying to say something.

Before he could say anything, "Don't you fucking say a word."

With that, he gets up and walks out of the door. I closed my eyes and sighed in relief. I let my head rest on the head rest for a while. Letting the sounds of the TV fills the silence.

When the sounds is never a bother, his mind is working. Thinking of the past.

The dreading feeling starts to creep up in his heart, his mind and weakened his body entirely. He needs time to dwell in this. He wanted to, so he would always remember his mother.

His forgotten mother.

The lump started to gather around his throat, his breathing heaving, can't bear the pain that had his heart clenching. His  hand fisted so hard to his side. His mouth wobbled indicating that he was going to burst.

His mind keep reeling back to the memory. That treacherous memory. Of the turning point to his broken family. His eyes that was closed, filled with unshed tears.

He let it go, he let the tears down. Wetting his face. Alone on his couch. Along in his living room. Alone like when this all started. No one to comfort him. No one to help him theough his downfall.

He was sobbing. He was trying to catch his breath. His fist started to make contact with his chest, right where his heart is. Punching it trying to calm himself. His heart can't take this. He never wanted to let this go. He was never going to heal.

His mother. His mother need to be reminded in his body, imprinted in his mind, lived in his heart.

The ringing bell stops himself. He was confused and wiped his face quickly. Getting up towards the door, opening it without looking to the peephole.

His own being freeze when his eyes met with the warmth green one.

She's here.

Lana's here.