We Are Tidal

Chapter Twenty - A Fistful of Chaos

(Today's featured couple in the cover photo is from Twin Peaks - another love of mine)

Chapter Twenty

A Fistful of Chaos

**POV - Arthur Heaver**

For a moment, it is as though nothing is moving. Then, like a wind-up toy springing into action, the scene seems to piece itself together and click into place and I am reeling backward, bending double at the waist. I let out a long gush of breath and curse, looking up to see Damien Da Costa looking at me with undiluted rage, his hand still curled into a fist. 

Behind me, Dylan seems to have launched herself over the railing and is now straddling of Cassie, though it is Cassie who seems to be doing more damage - with her nails. 

"Fuck off," I hiss at Damien before tossing my helmet to the ground and darting around him, ignoring the pulsating pain in my gut. Wasting no time, I grab Dylan around the waist and lift her off of Cassie with ease. 

"Get off of her," I spit into her ear, plonking her onto her feet with force. It is her turn to reel backward but before I can say anymore, Damien is by her side, a hand gripping her wrist. 

"What the fuck was that? Did you sleep with him?" He all but shouts, pointing at Willow who is helping up a disdainful Cassie to her feet, assuring her that she is fine. Kit is standing by Willow's side, a peaceful barrier in between both girls. 

My chest heaves as I watch Dylan's bright eyes fill with fury as she looks at Damien. 

"Get off of me," Dylan says, her voice cool and Damien wisely drops her wrist. 

I am still panting, my hands trembling as I look at Dyl. She is so far apart from the girl I met two years ago, but somehow her firey gaze is the exact same as she looks between Damien and me with frosty resentment. 

Cassie is busy dusting off her cheer uniform, grimacing at the mud stains on her skirt. She rounds on Dylan, scowling.

"You bitch," She all but growls at Dylan, who flashes a vicious grin in her direction, blood from a cut made with Cassie's long nails dripping down her cheek. 

"Back off," Both Damien and I snap. Cassie looks wounded and I catch Albert rolling his eyes and looking around for the referee to start the second half. 

"This is getting dull," Al mutters to himself and Kit shoots him a commanding look that silences him.

Cassie looks at me, her face dropping by a single fraction. For all but a second, she looks devastated and I open my mouth, though not sure what to say, I shut it again. Do I apologise? For what then - leading her on? God, when did this all get so messy? 

Before anyone can do anything, the sound of the campus security running across the pitch sounds. 

"Christ," Kit murmurs. 

"Fuck," Dyl says, glancing at a bruise forming on Cassie's cheek. She wastes no time in taking off across the grass. Ava and Nicole tear after her, and Willow kisses Kit's cheek lightly before following them. Cassie is shouting to the security guards to chase Dylan, her would-be assaulter and I cannot help but laugh at the sight.

A single glance at Damien is enough to stifle my laugh. I snatch up my helmet from the grass and walk up to Damien, who is watching Dylan sprint off the pitch with a defeated expression. 

"Listen," I begin, not sure what I'm going to say or how I will explain. "Dyl and I needed to talk. And that's what we did - we just talked. Cassie is lying because I hurt her." 

I couldn't say that I all but begged her to give me a chance to love her again. 

Damien looks me in the eye and I know that he knows I am not telling him the whole truth. Despite being a few inches shorter, he takes me in coolly. Without hearing them, I know if I was to turn around right now I would find Kit and Albert ready to back me up. 

Damien smiles slightly at the sight of them. 

"You boys are here to back you up," He says, more to himself than me. He takes a step closer to me and I don't back down. We are almost nose to nose. "Stay away from her." 

"Maybe we'll let her make the choice." I won't back down, feeling the depth of my emotion for Dylan rattle through me as I look at Damien and realise with how much disregard he treated her.

"You left her once, it broke her," Damien hisses and I flinch. How long will I regret that choice? My whole life? 

But he's right, I did leave. I left a blonde-haired sweetheart and returned to a grieving girl, with silver hair and an array of piercings and tattoos. She drinks now, parties, cares little for her classes. Maybe together we could patch ourselves up, build back to a functioning life.

Damien seems to see all of this in my face and I know that I have underestimated him. I only saw him as a stoner who takes sport more seriously than his classes. He sees and understands much more than I thought.

I am saved from having to answer him by the referee coming up between us, his face red and furious. 

"What the fuck are you doing?" He all but shouts, blowing his whistle and the rest of the teams groan in relief, though the audience seems disappointed that there wasn't a bigger bust-up. 

Kit claps my back and I move to my centre position, turning my focus to football. 

*

The game was brutal. We lost by ten points, which was entirely down to Damien and I being far too distracted to play with any degree of skill. I don't bother to change, I just rip off my shoulder pads and helmet, telling my brothers that I will see them at the truck. Some of the college audience clap my shoulders, sharing words of commiseration, but I move under the floodlights to the parking lot without acknowledging them.

I look up to see Dylan perched on the edge of my truck, sitting on the side swinging her legs. Her shirt, Damien's jersey, is gone and she is wearing a bottle green university sweater and some black yoga pants. Her blue converse are scuffed and muddy. I realise that she must have gone home and then come back.

Her face is bare, her earrings are gone and her hair is braided down her back and she turns to face me, her face blank. She jumps down from the truck with an easy grace. Night has descended fully now if it wasn't for the single street light casting an orange glow on her face, we would be entirely in darkness. 

"Hey," She says simply as I approach her. 

I see the cut from Cassie's nails has stopped bleeding but looks sore and deep. 

"Hey," I say, tossing my helmet and pads into the truck bed. I brace my hands against the side of the truck and sigh. I know what I need to say. I take another breath before I look at her. "Dylan, I'm sorry." 

"For what?" 

"For all of the pain, from the beginning until tonight. Everything inch of it I caused." 

She simply stares at me for several moments and I realise that I am bracing myself for her to leave me, finally. Instead, she takes two steps forward and raises a quivering hand to touch my face. 

Before I can wonder if I am dreaming, she presses her lips lightly against mine. Her touch is feather-light and perhaps the most blessed sensation I have ever felt. I sink into her touch, losing myself. 

A/N: 

I love writing from Arthur's POV, I love his gentle mind - it's very like someone in my own life! 

With love, 

Jens xx