Dixison: Roommates

Scrapes

Dixie's POV

The ride home was quiet, with Addison resting against the window, soft music playing from the car radio.

"Are you asleep?" I whispered, parking the car in the Hype House driveway.

"Yes," she turned to give me a sleepy smile.

"Aw, sleepy head." I giggled, nudging her shoulder.

"Take me inside," she pouted playfully.

I opened up her car door and helped her out. Wrapping her arm around my shoulder, we walked together to the front door.

Suddenly, the door flew open, three boys flying out, trampling the two of us in their midst.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, Chase!" Griffin screamed.

 Tayler hopped over Addison, who had fallen to the ground, and rushed toward Chase. Grabbing him by his hoodie, Tayler roughly shook the younger boy, face full of rage.

"Addison!" I gasped, kneeling down.

She pushed herself onto her hands, lifting them up to reveal pink scrapes from the cement. Wide, bewildered eyes stared up at me.

I clenched my jaw and picked her up, setting her gently onto her feet.

I reached out to brush the dirt from her hair, but caught a glimpse of red. Blood red.

"Tayler, Griffin, Chase, now I'm going to fucking kill YOU." I shouted at the boys.

They stopped fighting to glance over at us—me with my fists balled up by my sides and Addison, woefully wiping away tears from her cheeks.

"Oh man... I'm sorry, Dixie," Griffin apologized. He genuinely looked like he meant it, but I was seething.

"Who the fuck does that? Can you not control yourselves at all?"

He walked up to us, reaching out for Addison's arm. 

"Get the fuck away from her!" I yelled, pushing his shoulder away. "

You need to grow up. All of you," I scoffed, pulling Addison away and through the front door.

"I'm so, so sorry, Addison." I choked out, feeling all of my emotions rise to the surface.

She laughed, teary eyes crinkling. "It's fine. I'm shaken, but I'm fine, really."

My heart sunk, watching the blood escape from her palms. I was going to fix this. I was going to make everything okay.

"Come upstairs, I'll help you get cleaned up."

Addison's POV

Dixie led me upstairs, hand resting gently on the small of my back, supporting me as I limped slowly up the steps.

"I'm so sorry," she kept saying, leading me into the bathroom and flipping on the lights.

I sat on the counter, next to the sink. She held out my arms, turning them so that my palms faced upward. She gave a shaky sigh and began running warm water over a washcloth.

"I don't want to hurt you."

Please don't hurt me, I thought.

"But this is going to sting." Her puppy dog eyes and furrowed brows revealed her genuine concern.

"Oh!" I whimpered, a searing sting running through my hand.

She held my palms up to her lips, blowing light, cool air onto the open wounds. 

"It hurts,"  a tear escaped my eye.

She looked up from my hands, a frown forming on her lips. Her right hand traveled to my face, thumb brushing across my cheek. Our eyes locked and her fingers lingered on my cheek, honest and gentle.

I gazed at her face, eyes roaming across her freckled-cheeks, tinged pink from the heat of the day.

"Addison," she whispered.

"Dixie," I whispered back, leaning in to her touch.