The Pretend To Be Agreement

Chapter Thirty-One

*So, I actually listened to Taylor Swift's 'This Love' while writing this chapter. But since I couldn't find the proper video or any lyric video to go along with it this, you're all going to have to deal. But 'This Love' is the song that goes along with it.

Grace

Water runs down into the tub, the air inside of the bathroom misty. My feet are submerged in hot, scolding water as I attempted to warm them back up again. Sitting in nothing but my shirt and underwear as I was used the edge of the tub as seat, I watched the water twirl in circles when I moved my feet.

My cheeks were sticky from dried tear tracks, and my shirt was stained in tears. The back of my neck was starting to ache from sitting in an awkward position for too long. Even though the water was running and the bathroom was stationed at the back of the house on the second floor I was still able to hear shouting coming from downstairs.

As I'm more focused on the yelling then the water, I feel it come up to just two inches below my knee and my hand instantly reaches over and turns it off. That's when I hear it, the words I mean, and they become much clearer. Much louder than they had when the water had been running.

I cringe at the intensity, the anger, the venom that was leaking from their mouths. It was Will vs. James, and Will was currently winning the battle. They were arguing over me, which wasn't unusual, but then it all stops as if they realized something. Everything goes dead quiet, a silence flowing over us. For some reason I suck in a breath, terrified of what they had all realized.

And then it comes to me. In the last fifteen minutes that I'd been up here I never once made any attempt to listen. As soon as I entered the bathroom I shut with a slam, locking it for good measure, and then going to the bathtub and turning on the hot water. They had stopped yelling because I had turned off the water – which might have looked like I was trying to listen; trying to hear what they have to say.

I wouldn't deny that me standing in between the two of them had been stupid, idiotic of me, but that didn't mean there wasn't pause. There had been a six second pause before Will had punched me, though it may not have been intended for me, Will still had enough to realize I was standing in front of him.

I had watch as both men had stumbled back, ready to fight again but stopped when I was in the middle. Both Will and I were at fault, and the only reason why my excuse makes sense is because I was protecting him. James was older, had more experience with fighting, and was easily kicking Will's ass. A blind person could see that.

My heart still felt heavy and I was still angry, but I was slowly calming down to where I was in the starting range of being rational. When my feet no longer feel like popsicles, I hook the drain out of the tub and dry my feet off with a towel. Walking in front of the mirror I pause – like there was invisible hand pulling me back.

Turning, I come face to face with myself and my reflection in the mirror. I don't look surprised when I find that my eyes are bloodshot, my air is a mess, and the area around my eyes is puffy. From not putting any ice or something cold on my face the spot where Will had punched me was swelled and purplish.

In all honesty, I looked like one of the extra from Walking Dead and I didn't care. I could've looked worse. The thing that was really screwed up was my heart at the moment.

Blowing out a huff of air I unlock the door, open it, and then step out. There was no one in the hallway as I walked down it and towards Will's old bedroom. My eyes look over the pictures that hung on the walls and every time I do this I always find something more interesting to look at. The tips of my fingers glide against the wall as I walk, and a minute passes as I take my time.