JASON CARVER'S CURLING FISTS were repetitively battering the sides of Cerise's throbbing temples. His white button-up was littered with Cerise's blood. The copper metallic crimson liquid was overbearing in her mouth, and with the repetitious despair that was ascending in her cranium, Cerise's motor control was nullifying by every precarious second.
The blood-orange sunset was a metaphorical twin for Cerise Harrington. The vibrant fiery red-peachy light was seeping through the matted clouded windows of the home, slowly dimming by the second as nightfall was gradually approaching Hawkins. Simultaneously, Cerise's jovial glow was threatening to extinguish by every contact Jason made with his fist to her body.
"I don't want to do this, Harrington, but you're not cooperating with me," Jason snarled with a sadistic smile rising on his face. He yanked the white rag off of the sofa, wiping his bloodied fists with the cloth.
She returned the barbarous smile towards Jason, not daring to let him get the upper hand over her emotions. Cerise lazily sat up against the sofa in the dim-lit living room, spitting the excess blood onto the floor.
Sorry, Rick.
"Wow, and I thought the term 'blondes are stupid,' was a myth. You are the living definition of that saying, Carver," Cerise sarcastically sneered, instantly knowing it would aggravate Jason. Just as anticipated, the blonde boy stormed in anger, kneeling down to Cerise's level and strenuously grabbing her face with his hand that was decorated with her blood.
"Shut up! Do you think I want to do this? You are a good friend, Cerise, but I need answers." Cerise stared intently into Jason's tired eyes and indeed, she saw the disparity in them. For a small minuscule second, she felt sympathy for the jock.
"Your definition of 'friends' is abysmal," Cerise mumbled through her bloodied lips in a monotone. "I don't think friends beat each other to get answers, Jason."
Jason released a humorless chuckle. He reclamped his fists tightly, the milky white color of his knuckles once again digging into his palm with so much force, the reverberating echos of Cerise's pained grunts glutted the room as he swung at her.
Cerise's mind constantly was swimming with snarkiness and sarcasm, her stubbornness devouring her whole. However, the sudden thought of Chrissy entered her head, tears slowly rimming on her waterline.
"Do you really think Chrissy would want this?" Her tone was matted with sincerity, losing all of its sarcasm and mockery. She caught the way Jason's menacing demeanor was faltering into a vulnerable and melancholic state.
