Irresistible You (19 Days) (BL)

11.

There was a momentary, strangled silence where both the opponents of the figurative battlefield stared down at one another. Guan Shan ignored He Tian's dead weight sliding off his chest as he straightened his torso, looking up at the wannabe douchebag standing in front of him, who had the gall to jut out his hip cockily.

"What?" Lay Yin snickered, swinging his bag toward him like a toy. He had the presence of mind to lean back before it smacked him in the face. Guan Shan was pissed off, alright.

"What do you want?" He asked, voice a low timbre. "It had better be a good one, you bastard."

"What I want, eh?" Lay Yin echoed him, coming down to a casual, deceptive crouch. Guan Shan casted a surreptitious glance over the douche's shoulder, to see if any of Lay Yin's lackeys were coming. He spotted none. Was the bastard asking for a death wish? He cracked his knuckles languidly, Lay Yin's gaze zeroing in on the motion.

"Oh no you don't." He murmured dangerously, looking up at Lay Yin. "You interrupted my fight, asshole."

The waters between them were murky with hatred, and electric tension swathed the atmosphere. It was the kind that questioned which snake was poised to strike first. Malice ran rampant through him; why the fuck did he have to deal with this shit when he wasn't asking for it? In the face of his mother's condition and the necessity for money, all other petty problems and fights seemed to fade to a bland echo of what they had been earlier.

"Be glad I took care of that." Lay Yin scoffed, edging closer towards him. "Who is he? A minion? An enemy? Doesn't matter, 'cause your ass is mine."

Minion?  Guan Shan cocked a dark eyebrow, wondering whether Lay Yin was truly out of it. He didn't know whether the guy had a penchant for pain, arriving at a time where his hands itched for a fight. Working the crick out of his neck he thought about how somebody's blood was going to get spilt, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be his.

"Uh, I don't think you are in any position to fight against me, Mo Guan Shan." Lay Yin remarked sardonically, and he stared at the delusional fucker with incredulity.

"And why's that, shit-stain?" He sneered. "Too afraid to dirty your hands? Will mommy deares' make ya jizz your pants in fear?"

"Shut up." Lay Yin was red in the face, and he got onto his feet, steeling his shoulders. "I'll beat you to a pulp."

The promise hung viciously in the air, poison dripping off of the words. Had he been a lesser person, he would've flinched at the commandeering personality that Lay Yin seemed to exude—but the guy had no brains, only brawn. This little interlude had made him miss the only bus route to his neighbourhood, and a glance to his watch told him that it was three. For that alone, he was going to pulverize Lay Yin.

"I'll kill you, little bitch. You cost me a fuckin' ride back home." He said murderously, advancing towards Lay Yin. "That asshole lying over there is mine to mess with, and you've jus' pissed me off."

"Oh, I am shaking in fear." Lay Yin cooed, gesticulating towards the motionless body with his bat.

 "And what the fuck are you going to do, Mo Guan Shan? Choke on his underwear?"

Oh, that son of a bitch was going down.

Senses sharpening in a quicksilver second, he ducked as the bat cleanly swerved over him. That would have taken his head off.