Anger Management- Euphoria

ten

I knocked on Nate's door franticly, tears were still pouring from my eyes. My cheeks raw from the moisture. I almost cried with relief when he peeked through the doorframe at me. His eyes glided over my crumbling state. Without a second thought, he threw the door open. He grabbed me, getting me out of the pelting rain. Nate's house filled me with comfort and warmth. 

"I'm all wet..."I murmured, attempting to pull away from him. I didn't want to get his clothes wet. Well more like his chest, like usual he wasn't wearing a shirt. "Don't you own a shirt?" 

Nate let out a half-chuckle, tugging me closer again. "I don't care. And yes." He pressed his lips to my hair, relief flooding through me again. "What happened?" he whispered against my hair. 

I didn't know what to tell him if I could even tell him. Instead, I just shook my head. "I can't tell you." 

He loosened his grip and I was afraid that he would let me go completely. But he didn't, leading me toward we headed upstairs to his room. Nate's room was just as I remembered. His queen-size bed fitted with gray sheets and a black blanket. Weightlifting equipment opposite his bed. That was it. 

Walking to his closet, he pulled out one of his shirts. He handed it to me. It was soft and black. "You can wear this while I wash and dry your clothes..." he looked down at the floor. I swear I saw him blush. "if you want to." 

I know that I had clothes in my backpack but chances were they were all school clothes, nothing I could sleep in and that's what I wanted to do...sleep. Without thinking, I pulled my sweater of my head. 

"Jesus Rosalyn." Nate said, spinning around to face the door instead of me. 

I continued to undress. "What? It's nothing you haven't seen before." Which was true. This wouldn't be our first sleepover or him seeing me without clothes. Best friends, remember? 

I slid off my shorts. I pulled my wavy hair into a ponytail and put on his black shirt. It went to my knees. Jesus he was fucking tall. "All done." 

He turned to face me again and his eyes caught something. He strode toward me quickly, my face in his hands. An instant panic filled me, I felt Dean's hands again and I shivered. 

"Is this blood?" he asked, running his thumb across my lowerlip. 

I recoiled from his touch. I crawled on the bed, pulling blankets over me. I couldn't look in his eyes, I would see the pain I caused him when I pulled away. "Dean's." 

I heard the growl in his voice. "Why is Dean's blood on you?"  

Nate didn't wait for me to answer, the puzzle pieces clicking together. "So he didn't understand the dislocated jaw, did he?" 

I shrugged, "Guess not." My voice was quiet, tired. 

The covers tugged a bit as Nate got in next to me. I could feel the intense rage rolling off his body. He kept his distance at first, worried about my boundaries. But I couldn't stand being that close without touching. "Come here, Jacobs." I murmered into the pillow. Grabbing his hand, I wrapped his arm around. In response he pulled me against, him. 

I fell asleep to his warm arms and his breath on my neck.