Finding Life | Finders Keepers #2 ✔️

23. Thug

Hey guys! This one is just about 1200+ words. Yes, I know very short chapter but this one is really needed! Next chapter will finally be about Blythe and what had happened. This one will sure hurt though. Gotta warn you.

- Bella xo

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Dean

The walls of her room are painted beige. They look exactly like what she had at the dorm, only this was bigger. Her bed looks like a queen-sized one. The covers are just plain blue. There isn't much of a decoration all over her room. The only thing is here are two picture frames by her bedside table. It's a picture of her, Nathan, and Antonio, the one I took at our high school graduation.

The next picture beside it is us. It was our prom.

I had finally convinced her in going and though I knew that I should be taking Grace, picking her up, we ended up agreeing that we'll just meet at the school. While Blythe came to my house so we could go together. She had already become my best friend by then, the two of us so close that we were inseparable.

"Wow!" Mom exclaims towards the person at the door. By her reaction, I know that it's her. "Blythe Juniper, you look too magnificent for your own good. Come in!"

The second she walked in, I was a loss for words. She was wearing this simple off-shoulder black dress, with beads of diamonds glittered all over her top and a silver glittered belt around her waist, and it fades down to her dress. It's puffy but not too puffy that she needed help walking around. Her naturally tanned skin looked magnificent in it.

It hugged her in every way that it should and I just remember staring at her for a good five minutes, blanking on what to say to her. The only reason I was able to was when mom pushed me over to have a picture with her.

She smells of roses and I look at her wrist, a corsage of red roses around it. "Who gave you that?"

"Nate," she answers with a small smile, her eyes beaming at me. "You clean up well."

I wanted to give her a corsage, and I had planned to buy one for her along with the corsage I would give to Grace but then, she got mad at me and said that it's disrespectful. Though I still don't see why, I decided not to buy her one in order to respect my girlfriend's wishes. I'm just thankful that her brother bought her one.

"Well, you look beautiful." I whisper to her.

We spent a good minute staring at one another. The only time we look away was when the camera flashes in front of us. Mom had taken our picture without warning and promised Blythe that she'll send her all the photos.

I didn't even realize that she actually framed it.

My attention turns away from our picture and I place it back when I hear the door opening. It's Blythe. She's alone, wearing a sling, a bandage on her swollen nose. I couldn't even watch as she tries to walk inside without hurting herself. Jesus, there are different colors of bruises by her stomach and ribs, and a huge bruise on her jaw.

"Hey," she croaks out, grimacing as she shuts the door behind her.

My feet are already moving to her, ready to scoop her up and take care of her. I'm prevented by doing that the second she raises her palm to me. "I have to tell you something."

I'm silent, waiting for her to speak.

"Listen, whatever's going on between the two of us—" she waves her unharmed hand dismissively. "—is done. It shouldn't have happened in the first place. I mean, when I saw you there right before I got to the infirmary, I saw how scared you were for me and I don't want to—"

I can't believe what I'm hearing. All the worries and concern for her boil away and leaves me with one motion. Anger. "Wait, wait. Are you telling me that this is over just because I got scared for you? Of course, I'm going to be fucking terrified that someone's hurting you, Bly. That's usually how it fucking works in a relationship!"

"We don't even have that," she says, calmly. Her golden eyes just look brown, and they definitely are emotionless. "We don't have a relationship. Friendship, yes, but anything more than that, no."

My hands are in my hair, pulling on it. "I don't understand. You're out of the gang and they're helping you find whoever's after you! You finally have freedom, Blythe! You're finally free to choose what to do with your life instead of being a thug who drives her bike to race with a bunch of other dangerous thugs! God, I don't see what's the problem here."

"Thug?" She winces at what I'd just said, her eyes hardening.

And I realize how much of an insult is to her. My anger subsides and I take a step only to be met by her stepping back. "It's not—you know, I don't look at you like that Bly."

Fuck. Why did I have to say it? I promised her a long time that I never looked at her like that. I have too much respect for her to actually see it like that. She always finds that word an insult to her, like being a member in a gang is the most disgusting thing in the world. Like she's the most disgusting thing in the world.

She shakes her head. Too late. I had already done the damage just from how her eyes flashes hurt in them. "You don't need to stay here anymore. Go back by yourself. I have a spare bike here and will drive myself back. I'm still done. You can go back to the apartment. I'm good with keeping my word. Unlike you."

"Bly, come on—" I don't get to finish my apology or my begging to her.

Her hand holds the doorknob, swinging it back hard enough that the knob hits the wall. I'm left dumbfounded, her eyes are looking everywhere but me. My heart aches to grab her and hold her, to beg for her forgiveness. I should have fought harder and apologized harder.

Instead, I follow her orders.

I leave.

It's already three in the morning when I reach the apartment's parking lot. I've sat in the car in silence, thinking about what we just fought about. I'm still mad at her when I walk up to the entrance. I'm mad that she decided to end whatever the hell could have happened between us. I'm mad that she decided to revert our relationship into being friends. Hell, right now, we're even barely that.

I'm fuming because I should have never called her a thug. She wasn't that. Now, she's thinking that I think of her a thug, think of everyone at that gang as a thug. What's worse is that I might've just accidentally even involved Nathan, calling him a thug indirectly too.

Fucking hell, I'm stupid.

My fingers never reach the handle. I turn back and walk fast towards the car. I don't know yet where I'm going. My mind is going towards to Blythe, to the direction where her home would be.

I have no idea what time is it already.

All I know is that when I knock the door, I see annoyed eyes on me. "Dean, do you know the fucking time is? It's almost four in the morning."

"Hi, Grace."