What I Wish You Knew | ꪜ

Chapter Twenty Eight

28. Rose meadow.

Parker's POV

Electricity sparked through my fist, surging up my arm at such full force that when it finally erupted in my shoulder blades, I retracted my hand quickly, ignoring the pain that flickered in my arm like a palpitating heartbeat: boop, boop, boop, boop.

I flexed my muscles, trying my hardest to release the strain in my arm as I backed away from the punching bag. Unlike my last one, this one was new, with no slits, no permanent dents, not worn out. I demolished my last punching bag and had to clean out sand in my room for days.

But at least I could get the tension off of me when I use it, which is like every day.

There was a knock at my door and the person on the other side didn't have the liberty to at least wait for me to give them permission to come in before the door came flying open. Jingyi came strutting into my room, his arm adjusting the black suit that hugged his body like a second skin. And I wondered to myself if he could even breathe.

I didn't really care at this point, he could stifle to death. "Zan, father and Valeri want you downstairs for breakfast." He exclaimed as he leaned against the frame of the door, one leg crossing over the other in sophistication.

I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back towards the punching bag, "It's Parker. And can I ask you a question Jingyi? Do you have eyes?" I exclaimed, not bothering to look at his expression since I know it would be one of either annoyance or passiveness, which in the end, both tended to piss me off.

"Of course I have eyes, that's a ridiculous question."

"No, see if you had eyes you'd clearly see that I'm busy at the moment and I won't be joining any of you for breakfast, right? Okay, you had me fooled for a second, I thought your eyes were up your ass." I spat as I sent a jab flying into the bag, my teeth gritted in annoyance.

"You're not getting anything out of punching that bag, Zan, all it does is rile you up, even more, you know it." He said, tutting softly as he pivoted on his heels to leave. I chuckled humorlessly and caught the bag in my arms swiftly as it swung towards me at a fast momentum due to the force I had punched it with seconds ago.

"You know I have an idea. Why don't I replace the bag with your face and we can see how that'll work out!"

"You'd like that wouldn't you?" He exclaimed nonchalantly, his eyes burning a hole through my head. "I'll make sure to add it onto my Christmas wishlist, granted that Santa doesn't think I've been naughty this year." I taunted, pouting mockingly as I flickered my gaze back to the punching bag, preparing myself to swing once again.

"You need to channel your anger into something more positive. See you're so riled up right now, punching that bag only makes you angrier because you're picturing my face on it. Try meditation, it'll do you some good, Zan."

"Look Mahatma Ghandi-" I spat as I pivoted on my heels to face him, willing myself to not explode as I sunk my nails into the punching bag, my lips pursed into a thin line "I don't go to anger management classes to sit still and look pretty. I am working on my shit but you know what I need? Your face in my hands as I crush it beneath my fingertips."

Silence enveloped the room, tension thickening as we glared at one another, no words needing to be passed between us two as heat radiated from both our stares, burning the other with equal flame and tension. Then he shook his head slowly and sighed in defeat, "you're impossible, Zan."

My lips quirked upwards into a smirk and I turned back towards the bag, ignoring his intense gaze on me as he slowly began to back out of my room, "yeah? Welcome to my world."