Glimpse

Chapter 48: Courtney

"I thought I told you to change your shirt," Shayne said as Courtney approached the open-style kitchen. Stationed behind the couch, Shayne's anger-infused eyes drilled into her. Hours-old bandages dangled from his stomach, tattered strips clearly shredded in his fury.

Mere minutes had transpired since he stormed out, chaos audible from the bedroom as Courtney scrambled to obtain underwear. Chosen in a hurry to chase Shayne after finding his boxer drawer empty, too-tight panties -a pair intended for the trash months ago but had somehow hitched a ride to Shayne's residence- now chafed her groin. Unpleasant but tolerable.

"I may be your girlfriend, Shayne, but I still have free will," Courtney scoffed. Intuition suspected more than foreign rage influenced his uncharacteristic behavior, though caution and hesitancy still delayed her entrance. Confusion over his impromptu outrage necessitating time to process. Questions of her safety around Shayne never traversing her mind.

Trust superseded doubt.

Despite the spanking Courtney received, no fear of Shayne redirecting anger onto her existed. That lone instance blamed on two worlds overlapping. Instead, worries circled the state of his apartment, of their relationship. Anxieties over mess and abandonment.

What the hell am I supposed to do with this?

Green irises canvased his uncontrolled anger's destruction, defeat and annoyance curdling her tongue. The consequences of heavy stomping and curse-filled shouting overheard moments ago, her belongings suffering the brunt of Shayne's unfounded ferocity.

Clothes scattered everywhere, her disorganized-but-folded piles now strewn across the floor. Though the vases all appeared intact, their contents lay barren, green, droopy stems no longer standing proud in their colorful flower-covered hats. Their torn-off, crumpled-up petals littered wooden floorboards and clung to cushions.

Kinda thought a room covered in rose petals would be more romantic.

"Well, there are plenty of shirts for you here." Shayne chucked a handful at her. Lack of mass hindered their trajectory, the lightweight garments landing midway between living room and kitchen. Dirty and unraveled, a rainbow of plaid splayed across the kitchen isle's wooden trim.

Spinning on his toe, Shayne advanced towards the door before turning. Over and over, hands flailing with excess energy matched heavy-footed pacing.

"What the fuck's gotten into you, Shayne?" Annoyance tipped her tongue as Courtney stooped to collect an armful of shirts. The nerve of him, ordering her around? Controlling what she wore? Spite disobeyed his implied command.

Situating between Shayne and the couch, Courtney draped rumpled flannels over the top cushion. Practiced hands folded with ease, monotonous action relieving pent-up stress. It hampered annoyance enough to provide untainted reassurance.

"I get that you failed. Hell, I expected you to, but-"

"Some fucking girlfriend you are," Shayne spat. Madness clawed at frayed bandages as if trying to peel away the residue of her comfort. "Though I suppose that's what a pathetic pansy like me deserves after this."

"I made a mistake back there, I'm sorry that I'm human." Courtney tidied colorful button-downs in a stack on the kitchen isle. Gripping the granite countertop's edge, she bent over. A deep breath calmed tension building inside. "I'm giving it my best, Bear."

"Expecting me to fail is your best, Courtney?" Heat painted her spine, Shayne wrapping around her back. Hot breath wafted across the nape of her neck before teeth scraped skin. Calloused fingertips sanded her inner thigh before toying with the hem of her panties. "Good girl, you changed your underwear, at least."