(Complete)
Best ratings:
#3 guitar
If you're tired of the same romantic story repeating itself in every book you read, I can promise you that this will be something original that you've never read before.
*****
Damon turned and looked at me with ad...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I often wondered if Damon ever went back to the streets to fight. He said he used to fight, and that he sometimes did still when he was short of money, so my mind often wondered to if he ever tried fighting again.
I got my answer when I came to his apartment one day and saw him with bloody knuckles and a busted lip. I was all over the place wondering what the fuck he had gotten himself into. Then worrying about his busted lip.
He brushed it off with a "if you think this is bad, you should've seen the other guy."
I did see the other guy the next day at school.
It was Eli.
And Damon was right, his busted lip was nothing compared to the swollen marks covering Eli's face.
He had busted his lips two places, his left cheek had a huge blue bruise with a small cut. His right eye had a huge blue/green/purple ish mark that was swollen to the point that his eye was shut.
I couldn't see the marks on the rest of his body, but with the way he limped around and squeezed his working eye in pain while he walked, I could see there was more, probably worse, under his clothes.
"Oh my god, Eli, are you okay?" I asked worriedly.
His normally tan skin was pale out of exhaustion, and he probably hadn't slept a lot this night.
"What a stupid thing to ask, my eyes work, so I can see that you're not okay," I scowled at myself. "What happened?"
He seemed to struggle when he talked, answering me. "Why don't you go ask your boyfriend, huh?" He spat out, and for a second I was afraid the anger was directed towards me.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
Fou-
"Sorry, that was unfair. It wasn't your fault, I don't blame you."
"Wasn't it though? He beat you up out of jealousy. Fucking prick!" I was getting angrier by the second. I could feel the range spreading through my veins and prickling underneath my skin.
"Don't be too hard on him," Eli said. "I would've been jealous too if you were my girlfriend and was hanging around the handsome Italian dude. Like the two gorgeous Europeans that would've made the perfect couple."
"Why're you defending him?" I asked suspiciously. "And why are you describing us as the 'two gorgeous Europeans that would've made the perfect couple'?"
