92 days

eleven

Roman's POV

The second she turns down the corner, I slam my fist into the door frame without thought. What did I even do?

Her glare was harsh and painful, but I could see the hint of sadness behind the tough exterior that was shown before me. She confuses me. A lot more then i'd like.

Was she mad that i followed her? I noticed her slight scowl as i exited the door and out to the patio when she was conversing with the moronic blonde.

But she doesn't need to remind me that our moments meant nothing. I already fucking knew that.

Three of my fingers are starting to throb painfully, sharp pains running up my arm when i move them slightly.

I stride down the hall in search of a close bathroom so I can relieve the pain with cold water. Ice would be nice, but i'm not bothering any of these rich snobs who are all a bit tipsy anyway.

Shoving the bathroom door open, I yank off my black blazer and roll the sleeve up on my damaged hand. Cold water pours out of the faucet and I can only leave my fingers underneath for mere seconds before retracting my hand back in pain.

I tilt my head back in agony, regretting slamming my fist into a stiff door frame.

I need to go to a hospital to get this checked out. This throbbing is no joke.

The closest hospital is the one I hate the most.

I pull my phone out my pocket, still lingering my hurt hand in the air. Pressing Jonah's name, I listen to the ringing.

This idiot better pick up.

"Hey baby, how's the party?" He greeted in a mocking tone.

"Shut up, Jonah." I scowled. "I need you to pick me up."

"Take the bus."

"No, I'm not fu-" I take a deep breath, calming myself down. "I think I broke some of my fingers."

I listen to his belting laughter over the phone, followed by the sound of dangling keys.

"You need the hospital?"

"Yeah." I say impatiently, annoyed by his amusement.

"You know the closest one is where your-"

"I know!" I interrupted, then lowered my tone. "I know, just take me there."

I hear the sound of him getting in his car and I sigh. I need some kind of relief for this pain. If i actually broke my fingers i'm screwed. My whole job is surrounded by working with my hands.

I'm good at it, so i think i could be fine using one hand...

I just don't want to be fired.

"Hurry up." I murmured.

"I'm not getting another ticket, i'll be there soon." He hangs up.

*

It's been almost 20 minutes and the pain that sits comfortably in my fingers is starting to recede due to numbness. The bruising is starting to spread and i'm at the point where i can't move my hand at all.

I'm outside, sitting down on the edge of the sidewalk; still waiting for Jonah to pull up.

When I was making my way out of the bathroom, I caught sight of annie in the dining hall. She was smiling with her parents about something. I'd say it was forced. I've seen her actual smile before.