ROSES AND RUIN

Chapter Five:

~When you play with fire, do you do so with the preparation to get burnt, or do you cling to the hope that you won't?~

Present.

~Willow~

"Who the hell are you?" The voice was sharp, cutting through the silence with an intensity that made me freeze. My smile died instantly and my heart raced in my chest. I paused with my hand on the fridge door, trying to understand what was happening.

Why was there a man in Julie's house? Was he a guest? Was he here alone, or had they arrived together somehow? If they had, where was Julie?

I tried to ask some of the questions swirling in my mind, but he interrupted–harshly–before I could even open my mouth.

“Are you fucking deaf?” He snapped.

I was taken aback, my eyebrows shooting up at the sheer hostility in his tone. His behavior completely killed my curiosity.

No, I wasn't deaf. Was he all right, though? Like… in the head? Probably not, because… the hell?

I hadn't even realized he'd asked me a question, I was more occupied with the fact that there was a man in my girlfriend's house.

“Rude,” The word slipped out of its own volition before I could stop it, and I couldn't even bring myself to apologize. Not to him. The guy seriously needed to chill; I wasn't here for his temper tantrums, but I also wouldn't put up with it either if he insisted on acting like a person with anger management issues.

The nerve of this guy.

“The fuck did you just say?” His voice cracked like a whip, scattering my thoughts. The dangerous pitch had my pulse kicking up, and I fought the instinct to flinch.

Crap.

I hadn't expected him to hear, but now that he has…

Oh, well.

It’s not like I was much of a pacifist, anyway. “I'm sure you heard...” I managed to say, “...so asking is pointless.”

I didn't need to see him to know he was fuming at that. I could feel his glare burning into my skin.

It had only been a few minutes, but it was clear to me that the man I was currently engaging with had a few screws loose. In the anger management department, anyway.

And his screw for patience was definitely lost.

Usually, I disliked conflict, violence, or confrontation of any kind, if I could avoid it. But for some reason, that didn't seem to be the case right now.

If he couldn't be bothered to show some civility, then I wasn't going to either.

Once I had started talking, it was surprisingly easy to get carried away. Bad idea, but I was past caring. “And really,” I began, “Is that any way to speak to someone for the first time?” I asked, forcing a fake smile that he couldn't see because I was still facing the closed fridge. Like a moron. I felt silly, but I wasn't even sure I wanted to make eye contact with this guy. I'd rather just stand here like this till Julie showed up.

“Excuse me?” Oh, now he's chosen civility.

‘Excuse me,’ I mimicked mentally. Although his version had been a low growl, gravelly and thick with incredulity and an unmistakable mix of rage.

Definitely anger management issues.

It sounded like it had pained him to hold back on the profanities though, like he'd just love to throw in more f-bombs and other forms of expletives with every word that left his mouth, like a caveman.