A Case of Black and Blue

17 | Mexican Omelets

I woke up on the floor, face down, with my arm outstretched hanging around Leo's headboard, feeling like it might pop off. I rubbed my eyes with my free hand and stood up, trying to gingerly place my arm back in a natural position, feeling the strain run under my armpit where it was stretched and around my wrist where the metal had dug into me, creating a sizable red mark.

"Leo!" I shouted immediately, having no patience to prolong this stupid situation. "Leo!?" I tried again, louder. Then came the sound of rustling, "Leo!" I finalized and heard the sound of creaking stairs. Soon after, Leo appeared on the other side of the door, with bloodshot eyes and no shirt on his body.

Despite myself, I stared. I stared at the tuft of hair across his chest and the way it made him seem even manlier which I had long since equated with sexiness. Darn you Spanish novelas and I'm so sorry Darcy.

Unlike the usual smirking boy I was used to seeing, this Leo was a lot grumpier.

"I'm sorry..." I started, but he raised a hand, cutting me off. He shook his head and went over to the dresser, grabbing the keys from his holster. He came over and undid the cuff from the bed and then the one on my wrist. I instinctively brought it to my other hand and rubbed at the indent it left.

He went to the door and held it open, the universal sign for get out. I grabbed my shirt, throwing it over my head and let him lead—or more like push—me out.

"I wasn't trying to get you in trouble."

"Just stop." Leo said. He pushed me all the way to the front door and opened it.

"I need my shoes and my purse." I told him and after an exhale, he moved aside so that I could go grab it. I came back to the doorway and stood in front of him. "Can we talk about last night?" I asked.

"No," He said and actually placed a palm on my shoulder and pushed me out.

Before I could even protest the door was being slammed behind me and the locks turned.

"Mierda, coño."

I stood outside of Leo's house for longer than I felt was socially acceptable. I wasn't sure what to do. First, I didn't realize drunk me used most of the remaining money I had on the Uber and I literally couldn't afford one back. Second, I wouldn't call Darcy because everything that happened was shitty and I'd probably cry telling her and I didn't want to go through any more shame or humiliation. And third, I was totally fine with walking as I could've used the time to clear my head, but it was a forty-eight minute walk back home and it was another chilly day where I didn't have a jacket and my max walking ability was just under the twenty-seven minute mark.

Now the whole, how-do-I-get-home predicament was fine and dandy on its own, but there was a sneak attack fourth situation that really kept coming to the surface, keeping me grounded at his front door. And of course, it all came back to one little thing Leo said to me. One thing that I really wanted to be angry about, but couldn't actually discredit. In my stubbornness, maybe, just maybe, I didn't like to take responsibility for the things I didn't like, and maybe there was a possibility that I chose to not be forthcoming when those situations arose.

I sighed. If I left now, I was allowing the bridges to burn once again, which is not what I wanted to do.

Finally, I turned around and banged on the door. Of course, he didn't open up so I also rang the doorbell a few times, knocked a few fun tunes and even reached over and knocked on his window.

The door eventually swung open to a disgruntled looking Leo. "You do know harassing a cop is a jailable offense, right?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" I said, "I didn't know you could get in trouble for me using the cuffs. I guess I just thought it would be sexy. I don't know I was drunk," I rambled, "but I do know that I like you and I haven't liked anyone in a really long time, so I guess the whole reason I came over was because I wanted to try and be more open. The alcohol gave me the courage to—"