just_1_word | 13.7. Emotion

13.7. Emotion

Co-written with agentsullivan

[Follows THIS]

Ali held up a shaky hand up, her other clenched in a tight fist at her side. “Don’t fucking look at me! So help me god, if you do, a fucking concussion will be the least of your worries!” she hissed, her head turned away from Marc’s general direction. She took a few more ragged breaths and started pacing, about ready to have a nervous breakdown.

Marc was sitting hunched over on the edge of the sofa, an icepack pressed to his eye where she had belted him one. He was lucky to have the first aid. She had left him lying unconscious in her doorway for close to half an hour before her consience kicked in through the shock and she got him an icepack when he came to. Since then, there had been silence as he perched awkwardly waiting for her to say something… anything. He dropped his eyes down to his lap so he wasn’t looking at her. He was pretty sure if he kept watching her anyway he would cry. He felt like such a stranger and having Ali treat him like a criminal hurt more than he wanted to admit, even if it was all his own fault. “Who’s the guy?” he asked quietly.

“NO!” Ali spat, waving her hand angrily and rounded to give him the most horrific look she was sure she ever managed in her entire life. “You don’t get to just fucking throw questions like ‘Who’s the guy?’ at me! You’re fucking dead! You’re fucking dead, James! DEAD!” She threw her hands over her face to break down into painful sobs. This wasn’t happening. It was like she was trapped in some horrible nightmare and couldn’t wake up out of it.

( “Ali–” Marc tried, now wishing he had never gone through with this... )

Word Count | 965