Resurrect The Sun (A BVB Wretched and Divine fanfiction)

Chapter 18

My heart was a cold fist of horror. I crouched there for another beat before slowly rising from my crouch; cautious, like I was confronting a dangerous animal. Keeping my eyes in his general direction but not daring to sneak a peek at his face, I took a breath, "Andy--"

"I said," he slowly repeated, voice low and trembling with what sounded like barely controlled fury, "What the fuck are you doing?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched his fingers curl as though fighting the impulse to ball into fists. I cursed my stupid curious impulses internally. Why did I ever think this was a good idea?

Because you didn’t think you were going to get caught.

"I just...," I breathed slowly, deeply, trying to fight off the sick trembling anxiety in my belly. My heart was pumping so hard I could hear it in my ears, "I was just..." The words wouldn't form and my panic began to increase.

"You were 'just' what?" His voice; that was the worst part. It was slow and shaky and bubbling with black fury, but it was controlled all the same and I was anticipating the moment he would snap completely. I didn't dare look at his face but instead stared very hard at the paper on the ground nearest to my feet. On it was scrawled 'our hearts bear crosses'.

 I only remembered his journal was still in my hands when he began to walk towards me. I backed up, but hit the dresser I'd been standing next to. He snatched the book out of my hands, and it was then I looked into his face, and instantly regretted that choice. Andy’s expression mirrored his tone; eyes blazing and his mouth set in a stony, hard line like a fissure in granite. I stared helplessly up at him, feeling more and more trapped by the second.

"How dare you? Who the hell do you think you are?" He was angrier than I'd ever seen him.

 I cringed away, holding my hands out to placate him, "I know, I know, Andy, I'm really sor--"

He flung the journal to the ground, and the sound stung like a slap, "I've been patient enough with you, Mallory, but I come into my room and I see you there with my personal, private journal, and you think that fucking 'sorry' is going to make everything okay?" His voice began to rise and rise, growing icier and harsher by the second.

"Andy, I just--"

"You just what?"  Andy snarled suddenly, making me flinch, "You just what, Mallory? Because I'd love to hear the explanation as to why you thought it'd be okay to sneak around behind my back."

There was a moment of silence as I attempted to gather my thoughts into some logical explanation, "I...I…wanted some answers." It sounded pathetic even to my own ears.

"You're still fixated on that? I told you to leave it! We all did! Maybe no one's telling you anything because it's none of your fucking business?" He was getting right in my face, so close and yelling at me I could've counted his pores had I so desired. Instead, my palm smacked him squarely in the chest and I cried, "Stop yelling at me!"

He broke off, nostrils flaring and eyebrows knitted together in a glare, looking ready to explode all over again.

 “I don’t get why you’re so mad. What have you got to hide?” I asked him quickly, filling the silence before he could. My feet edged to the side, thinking maybe I could worm around him so I wasn’t so confined, but he gave me a livid look that plainly stated don’t even fucking try.

Andy took in a breath, calmer now. He glared some more, if that was possible, “It’s not so much what was in the book, but the breach of my privacy, Mallory.”

I was torn between swallowing my pride and getting the fuck out of there, or standing up to him and letting him know just how much of a jackass I thought he was. From his expression, perhaps the former would be the wiser choice. I tried not to grimace as I muttered, “I know. Sorry. Again.”