Conflicted (Flip Zimmerman)

40. Angels Don't Cry

*a/n: sorry I lagged on the update I needed to take a break, I wasn't feeling like myself but I'm back now :) I do have an ao3 account: Renmaulxo, in case anything happens here. Conflicted is already up and soon Summer Fling will be too. - Ren <3*

 
"Salem!" Flip called out in the dark, stomping towards the living room. You were panting, clutching your hand close to your chest, a sharp pain ringing through your head. Everything felt disoriented.  For a split second  it felt as if you were back in the dark place.

"Fucking shit, did you just head butt me?" The lights blinded you as Ron spoke from the floor.

"What the hell is going on?" Freya rushed in frantic. She gasped as she saw the scene in front of her. Flip rushed to your side, cupping your face, almost examining you.

"Why were you lurking behind me?" you made eye contact with him. Ron's lip was busted and already started swelling. "I mean you could have made your presence known."

"You didn't give me a chance," Ron argued as Freya helped him into the chair. "I was just getting something to drink but I noticed the balcony door open."

"I'm sorry, I should've told you that we came here instead." Freya tried to hide her laugh, her hands rested on his shoulders as she stood behind him. Ron glared at her when she struggled to speak. "I'll get you both ice."

Flip continued to fuss over your face, "Why was the door open?" Flip asked. You moved his hands away from your face but he then focused on your bruised right knuckles.

"I opened it," Freya handed you and Ron ice packs. "I thought I heard something while I was in the kitchen... I followed it out to the balcony, it was nothing." You shook your head but winced when your fingers were met with a small cut.

Freya and Flip exchanged looks of concern, "Why don't we all just go to bed, it's late." Freya offered.

Flip nodded towards the room and placed his hand at the small of your back. He guided you down the hall, holding you close to his body. You could hear Ron whine to Freya about his injuries, her laughter echoed throughout the halls.

"Come on, Rocky." He dragged you to the bathroom hoisting you up on the counter like a child as he retrieved the first aid kit.

It felt as if you were in trouble. Flip was silent and all that came out from his mouth were frustrated grunts. He placed the first aid kit next to you, looking for alcohol pads.

"It's nothing, we could just go to bed." you watched as his fingers opened the package. He wiped and tilted your head up with his other hand.

"Stop being stubborn and let me clean this cut." you winced when the cold wet wipe touched your skin. Flip's lips pursed as he concentrated on cleaning the small cut, gently holding your chin up. You couldn't help but stare in awe, it almost felt unreal that he was all yours. "Stop pouting."

"Are you mad?" you asked quietly, looking up at him. Flip stopped what he was doing and stared at you as he let out a frustrated breath.

"I'm not mad, just worried." Flip leaned towards you, placing his hands on the counter next to your thighs. He dropped his head. All you were met with was the top of his head, his eyes focused on the fresh pink scar that sat under your tattoo. His brows furrowed the longer he stared at it. Flip could still hear your screaming from that day. The images and the sound of you being tortured were  engraved into his mind. He didn't want to admit it terrified him when you weren't next to him. Flip knew you were freaked out as it is, he didn't want to add to that.  "You could've woken me up."

You cupped his cheek, your fingers moved to his goatee forcing him to look at you. "I didn't wake you because I didn't want you to worry-"

"Angel, I'll always worry about you." Flip smiled as he pushed your hair back, his hand cupped your cheek. "Even before all that mess happened," he furrowed his brows and shook his head. "I love you, I'd do anything to keep you safe. Don't ask me not to worry, that's like asking me not to love you."