His Flower (Rewritten)

Chapter 8

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Chapter 8

    Rex

       Trey was watching me. I could feel that fucking judgmental stare like knives on my back. But I didn't care. I had a lot more to fucking deal with now besides his issues with smoking. Like a tiny flower with eyes such a dark green I would happily drown in them.

       Fuck.

       "Since when did you start smoking again?" He all-but demanded as he leaned casually against the pillar of his back porch, there was no denying that unhappy sneer in his voice. I tapped the ash away from the tip of the cigarette before raising it to my lips again—just to piss him off.

       "None of your fucking business."

       He let out that sigh he always gave me, that long, drawn out, one that expressed his extreme disappointment. Fucking ignorant prick. He couldn't tell me to quick smoking any more than that fucking girl could.

       Even if I couldn't find it in myself to light one up around her.

       "You want to explain what happened today?"

       I shrugged, ignored the accusing tone in his voice, and took a long drag. "Jason was going after the girl, with those fucking morons, and I put an end to it."

       "They had to fly him to Boston Emergency."

       I tapped more ash away from the only thing keeping me calm. "Not my problem."

       "I can't keep bailing you out of these fucking messes!" He finally shouted, his mountain of a body storming down the porch to mine. The only guy who could ever actually take me in a fight. "There's only so much my dad will take, and you're pushing your luck-"

       "Then keep that fucking girl away from me, and there won't be any more problems." I dropped the cigarette to the grass, and smashed it into the hard ground with my boot—picturing it was Trey's head. Just because I would never hurt him didn't mean I wouldn't picture it.

       He let a long, silent, pause pass between us, those ever-watching eyes stared like pistols at my face. "Stop fucking acting like you weren't the one who wanted us to watch her."

       I could feel the anger start to swell, now that the cig' was gone I had nothing to distract me. "You're the one who wanted to be friends with her. Calling her fucking Princess and shit." I spit out the words like the poison they were. Why the fuck does he get off calling some girl, who can't even protect herself, some stupid shit-eating nickname?

       I was the one always saving her fucking ass!

       "And you're the one who threw the jealous tantrum over it." He snapped right back, those bright eyes of his nearly glowing in fury.

       "I did not throw a jealous tantrum-"

       "You slammed the chair against the table then fucking demanded none of us ever talk to her again later! That sounds like jealousy to me. Just fucking admit you like the girl and move on-"

       I punched him in the nose, and he stumbled back from the blow, even if it wasn't hard enough to cause any damage. His hand lifted to his face, and his green eyes only flashed in anger though there was no blood.