Chaos.
Usually I like it but tonight it’s making me homicidal because my Firefly keeps pretending I don’t exist, and after spending three years dreaming about her?
Nah.
I’m not letting her hide from me now.
Still… I hang back.
Mostly because if I walk over there right now, I’m either going to kiss her or ruin someone’s face.
Maybe both.
Ryker tosses himself onto the couch beside me holding a whiskey bottle while Ryder lights a joint. Kayla lounges between them looking bored and mean, like usual.
“Well,” Ryder says casually as smoke curls from his lips. “This is painful to watch.”
“Shut the fuck up,”
Ryker laughs. “He’s got heart eyes.”
“I’ll gouge yours out,” I warn, and Kayla snorts loudly.
“For her? Really?”
But I ignore her.
“She looks exhausting, and all that crying at the Dungeon? Embarrassing,” she states as something cold slides through me.
I turn my head slowly towards her.
“Careful,” I warn, and she rolls her eyes dramatically.
“What? I'm serious. She acts like some tragic princess all the time.”
“Kay…” Ryder warns.
“No, I don’t get why everyone acts like she’s special. She’s spoiled, dramatic, and honestly, kind of a bitch.”
The room goes still as my expression turns dangerous, even Ryker straightens slightly.
I set my untouched beer down carefully before speaking.
“You don’t know a fucking thing about her,” I growl, and she blinks, completely caught off guard by my tone. “She buried me for three years and thought I was dead, so if she cries a little, she fucking earned it,” I spit.
Silence.
Then Kayla scoffs. “Still doesn’t explain why she acts like she owns every room she walks into.”
I step towards her slowly.
Not aggressive.
Not loud.
Which somehow makes it worse.
“She walks into rooms like that because people spent her entire life trying to break her and somehow she’s still standing,” I say quietly, making Kayla shift back.
