Broken

• Chapter 67 •

"Do you wanna watch Deadpool tomorrow?"

I snap out of it when I realize Adrien has been speaking to me. I blink rapidly and glance up at him, "Huh?"

"I said, do you wanna—"

His eyebrows knit together when he looks at me, he pulls back in concern. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

"... Why are you crying?"

"What?" I sit up and wipe my face. Oh my God, it's wet.

What the fuck?

Eric does a double-take and realizes something is wrong.

"Minty, what's wrong?" his voice alone makes me want to burst into tears.

My cheeks grow hot, this isn't happening. I am not the sad drunk!

"Nothing! Just allergies, haha."

Eric's still staring at me. He knows I'm not allergic to anything except emotions. But he remains silent, a look of confusion is plastered on his face.

Isabella sits up and gives me a concerned look, "Are you okay? Is it serious? Do you have medication?"

"I'm fine, honestly it's nothing."

Her eyes widen a bit when she gets the hint. She gives me a sympathetic smile and turns to Hana, starting up a conversation to let me be. I turn back to Adrien.

"Um, anyway. I can't do tomorrow," I tell him.

"Why?"

"I have to work on my research project—"

"The one with Ashton?" Adrien pulls back, anger flickers in his eyes.

"... Yeah?"

He clenches his fist and takes a swig of beer. Eric watches us intently, and I suddenly feel uncomfortable and embarrassed. This boy better not cause a damn scene and throw a fit right now.

"You seem to be spending a lot of time with him," he hisses, his voice is bitter with jealousy.

I frown and take his face in my hands, "Hey... You have nothing to worry about. I'm with you. Nothing's going on between Ashton and I. We're strictly friends, and we really need to get the project done—"

"Yeah, whatever," he rolls his eyes at me and stands, lightly shoving me off of him.

He walks towards Arin and Ashu, who are debating which superhero is the best. He whispers something to Arin, who then nods and excuses himself. They both walk out into the very visible balcony and take out a packet of cigarettes.

Adrien places one between his teeth and lights it with Arin's lighter. Arin joins him, and my heart plummets. I can't see Adrien right now. All I see is him. All I see is Derek. Eric glances towards the balcony, sighing into his hands when he realizes what they're doing.

He looks down at the floor with a clenched jaw. The vein on his forehead looks like it's about to pop. He knows that it affects me, and he's royally pissed off. But Adrien doesn't, so I can't blame him. He looks up at me with empathetic eyes, and I hold in more tears.

Because apparently, I am the emotional drunk.

I release a shaky breath and shrug in defeat, giving him a faint smile. I get up before I burst out into tears right then and there, "Hey Ashu. Where's the bathroom?"

"Down the hell, to the left," she tells me.

"Thanks."

I dart towards the bathroom with my head bowed and my hand covering my face. I can feel Eric's gaze burning into my skull as I rush away. I close the bathroom door behind me and press a hand to my forehead.

Get a fucking grip.

I stare at my reflection in the mirror and realize that alcohol is not my friend. I splash some cold water on my face and hear a knock on the bathroom door. A minute later, Eric's making his way in.

"Minty?"

"No, it's Jesus," I roll my eyes. "What're you doing here?"

"You know what I'm doing here. Are you okay?" his eyes study my wet face. I grab a towel and dry myself off.

"I'm fine. Honestly, I just need to pee. So like... Leave."

He studies me but makes no move to leave.

"Now, please."

Nothing.

I roll my eyes. "Look, I know we're close, but that doesn't mean you get to watch me pee. That's where I cross the line," I mumble.

He sighs, "Cut the bullshit, Minty. We both know you didn't come to the bathroom to pee."

I exaggerate an offended face, "Are you accusing me of coming in here to take a shit, then? You know how I feel about shitting in other people's bathrooms, Eric—"

He roars his head back in laughter and shakes his head at me, "Shut up. You're fucking annoying."

I smirk when he finally loosens up. We smile at each other before his face falls.

"What is that?"

"Huh?" I glance down to see that my hoodie is almost off one shoulder, green bruises are imprinted onto my collarbone and neck.

"Minty, what the hell is that?" he steps closer with a frown aging his face.

"Are you okay? How did you get those bruises? Why do they look like hands—" he pauses mid-sentence, and his eyes grow wide. His face pales as panic takes over his body. His eyes snap up to meet mine, and I've never seen him so afraid before.

"Please tell me those are not hand-prints," his voice is a whisper.

I press my lips together as salty tears drip down my face and into my mouth, "I'm okay..."

He loses his shit.

Tears stream down his face as he pulls me into a bone-crushing embrace. "Oh my fucking God. Oh my fucking God," he repeats this over a hundred times.

He takes my face in his hands and presses our foreheads together, "Holy fucking shit. Who did this to you?"

Seeing Eric this distraught is new to me. He's never the type to get angry or affected by anything, I've always liked that about him. His sudden anger and panic towards my situation cause my heart to wrench in my chest.

I shake my head as tears roll down my cheeks, for once I'm letting myself feel the pain. And it's overbearing. Sobs wrack through my chest and I shake my head, "I don't know. Doesn't matter."

"Are you okay?" his voice cracks.

I blow out a laugh and shake my head, "No. No, I'm not."

He kisses my forehead and holds me as I continue to cry into his chest, "I know... Holy shit, I know... It's okay... I'm here, it's okay."