Pyro

Chapter: IX

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚎𝚡𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜, 𝚒𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚛.

✣ ✣ ✣

The smell of egg and bacon immediately engulfs my nostrils as we walk into the diner. Waitresses skates around on their roller skates, taking in orders or leading people to available tables. The diner holds a chaotic atmosphere due to a large number of people here. Coming in for a bite to eat or to hide from the burning heat in Los Angeles, cooling down with a shake.

A waitress seems to notice the two of us and skates over to us in her pink outfit and white apron wrapped around her waist. "Hi! Welcome to Amelia's Diner, are you looking for a table or here to pick up an order?" She kindly asks. Her voice sounds smooth and the smile on her face is welcoming.

"We're looking for an available table, something you can do for us?" He asks her, putting his arm around my waist to pull me closer to him. I can never get close enough for him. His voice is kind and carries confidence with how he speaks.

Her eyes flick from me to meet his, somehow widening her smile. "Sure thing, sweet pea! Follow me." She turns around and skates at a slow pace so we can keep up with her. She leads us to the west wall covered in windows. "Here you two lovebirds go, I'll be back in a minute to take your order for you." She places two menus on the table, allowing us to sit down on the little leather sofas before skating away.

I sit in front of him like I always do when we're out. He looks alls tidied up wearing his short-sleeved dress shirt with the first few buttons undone and dress pants. The complete opposite of me. I look like a storm broke loose.

I'm wearing as covering clothes as the heat allows me. Wearing black sweatpants with a thin yellow long-sleeved top along with my light grey converse. Not my proudest outfit but it works for its purpose. My hands are resting in my lab, my fingers fiddling with my nail cuticles as I watch then intently moving around. Out of my peripheral vision, I see his hand land on top of the table, holding it out for me to hold. Reluctantly I place my hand in his.

As they make contact he squeezes it, making me look up at him but then he squeezes my hand tighter, forcing a low whimper out of me from the pain. "I thought you said you put make-up on?" He asks accusingly.

I muster up the courage to speak. "I- I did," I answer him shortly. The grip he has on my hand tightens further, the pain pushing me to the point where it's hard for me to keep quiet.

"Well, you didn't do it enough. I can see the black eye and your busted lip very clearly." He states and what he says makes me want to cower back. His other hand comes up to my face, forcing my eyes to shut tightly and I almost flinch when I feel his fingers remove the hair tugged behind my ear. Covering up my black eye and busted lip with my hair. "Cover it up better next time. I won't repeat myself."

I can only muster up a weak 'yes' and a quick nod as an answer. He finally lets go of my hand on the table allowing me to pull it back in my lab where my gaze hastily flicks down again.

I look at the hand he held on the table and there are already blue bruises forming on the sensitive skin of my palm and wrist where his fingers dug into my skin. Only adding to the collection of bruises up my arm.

It doesn't take long before the kind waitress comes back. "What have you chosen as your drinks?"

I only lift my head up to look at him as a warm smile spreads on his lips before he speaks. The same smile that made me fall for him. It's weird to think how that exact same smile used to brighten my days, is the same one that makes me fear him. Fear him for how well he hides his true self.