The Hurt Game

❧ forty-one

"Care to enlighten what that stupid fight was about?" I asked Royden as soon as we were on the way back home. His eyebrow was smeared with blood, which he hadn't cleaned properly. A bruise would be there tomorrow, along with a black eye. His chin was red and I could only imagine how sore the place was.

He didn't reply. Instead he tightened his hands around the wheel. His knuckles were split, but the blood had dried and they were slightly clean. Bruises were already forming on the skin.

Stupid hothead.

I rolled my eyes at him. "Fine. Then don't answer me," I mumbled under my breath. His head twitched my way, indicating he had heard me or a part of it, but he refused to say anything.

I placed my elbow on the window. My head leaned on my palm as I stared out of the window, watching the scenery pass by. My bottom lip was between my teeth.

Minutes flashed by as we neared our apartment. A soft sigh escaped my lips as I glanced out of the corners of my eyes. Royden was still staring ahead of him, staring at and concentrating on the road intensely.

My phone buzzed in my hands and I looked down, lighting up my lockscreen. A small smile spread across my lips as I saw Daniela's name displayed on the screen.

Daniela: hey love! Wanna come over for dinner tonight? Royden is invited too, of course. Been a while since I've seen you. I will hear from you :)

My eyes travelled to Royden, who quickly looked back at the road. A small flutter appeared in my stomach, sending a giddy feeling over me. At least he wasn't pissed at me.

"Daniela invites us over for dinner. I am going," I informed him while typing a response to her.

"I thought we had plans to order take-out and watch a movie," he responded.

"You can still order take-out and watch a movie. It will have to be without me though. I haven't seen her in a while, so I'm going over."

"Waverly, don't be like that."

"Like what, Roy?" I asked as I turned to face him.

"Like... this," he sighed as he glanced at me.

"You're the one who wouldn't answer me when I asked a perfectly reasonable question."

"Just... don't ask. It is better that way."

"Oh, great! We're back at that. I thought we were over it."

"And I thought we were over that," he snapped at me. He shook his head, curling his bottom lip inside his mouth. "Just shut the fuck up about it, okay? It is none of your concern."

"Okay, this is wrong in so many ways. But for the better sake of it, or what-fucking-ever, you punched your best friend, for fuck's sake. What's up with that?"

"Just shut up about it." His voice raised, became louder with every passing second. His knuckles were white, despite the bruises forming. His jaw tensed and twisted back and forth.

"Fuck off."

I turned my head away from him. I twisted my entire body away from him. My right hand was tangled in my hair, gripping the strands tightly. My heart was heavy in my chest, ready to sink like anchor in the sea.

He exhaled harshly, heavily and even though his expression was murderous, something flickered through his eyes. It reminded me a lot of vulnerability, of hurt.

My shoulders slumped a little as all anger and frustration left my body. It didn't mean I was going to give in and apologize immediately. We were both in the wrong, but I couldn't find it within to be the one who apologized first again. He should know and respect my boundaries too.