The Submissive Assassin (BxB)

Chapter 41 - Never

Even though Dante was fuming from the rage roaming his body, he went to the kitchen to pour not only a glass a water for Nate, but for himself as well. He chugged the water in an instant, pouring himself a second one before he headed to the living room and handed Nate his glass.

"Drink."

Nate furrowed his brows, setting the glass of water down on the living room table. "I think you're the one that should drink because of how angry you look—"

"I said drink." This time, his voice sounded much more threatening than the last time, and Nate gulped when he noticed his fists tighten at each side. "Now." In a split second, Nate had downed his entire glass of water, wiping the trickling drops that slid along his jawline and balanced on his upper lip. For some reason, even though he wasn't exactly frightened of Dante, he still felt as if he had to obey him or else something awful would happen to him.

Dante left again with the glass of water, shortly returning with it full. "Chug it."

Nate stared at the glass, then at Dante who had his arms folded. It seemed as if Dante was stuck in his thoughts, unsure of what to say or how to say whatever he wanted to say. That was when Nate realized what was going on. "You're stalling."

"I sure am," Dante admitted, nodding his head towards the glass. "That doesn't mean you shouldn't drink that."

Even though he downed the drink in an instant, he was still bothered that Dante had not yet said anything to start their conversation. "If you don't have anything to say Dante, I'm going to head to bed."

Dante snorted in disbelief before his lips tightened into a small sarcastic smile and he waved a dismissive hand. "Sure," he laughed, "go on, head to bed. You're probably exhausted from your little fun, right?"

Nate couldn't help but chuckle, shaking his head. Although he had drank two cups of water, he did not feel any more sober than he felt before he arrived to the apartment. His emotions were rushing all over the place, and at that moment, he felt furious as well. Not towards Dante, but towards the entire situation—all of a sudden, he was in bed with his ex-boyfriend that cheated on him with a girl, and all he could do was let himself be kissed and shoved around as if his front had been weak the entire time.

But Eric wasn't here, Dante was. And that was why all his fury was being redirected at the already raging Dante. "Matter of fact, I am." He pushed himself to his feet and nodded his head with his eyes already narrowed. "You can see your way out."

Dante's eyes widened; there was no way Nate was seriously speaking to him that way, with such tone as if he never meant anything, as if they hadn't gone through anything.

Nate was thankful that his reflexes were better than average, since he dodged a strong and violent punch that was directed straight for his nose. He suddenly felt extremely sober, as if all his instincts were working together before he could even think about them.

Before he could even say anything else, he was able to move from another aggressive punch that had aimed for his jaw, stumbling over his own living room table when he did. The decorative lamp that was on the table fell over, scattered into pieces but that didn't stop Dante who was seconds from throwing another attack.

"Dante, stop!" Nate shouted, finally seeing his pupils return, almost as if he had been suddenly possessed. Even the light in his eyes came back and although his fist wasn't lowered, his mind was much more present. "What the fuck are you doing?!"

"Fight me back," he yelled, leaping forward only to have Nate escape him once again.

"We don't have to physically fight, we can fucking talk like adults!"