Dear Emmett

Chapter Thirteen - [Making Up.]

Author's Note: I am really sorry for not being on here more. I am swamped swamped swamped with work. I get one day off a week, if I'm lucky and I'm never sure what day I'll be off. Bear with me. I can't believe this story has gotten over 60,000 views. That's because of YOU GUYS. Not me. I LOVE YOU. And appreciate you soooooo much. I hope you enjoy this chapter!!

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion and fast forward at the same time.

Someone - I wasn’t sure who - had yanked me back away from the fight. A few guys had rushed forward to try to separate the two. Although Brooke’s ex wasn’t doing horribly, it was clear Emmett was winning by a long shot.

It took a couple of minutes for them to be pulled apart effectively and they were both huffing and red faced, glaring at each other with hate. In that moment, seeing how he’d stuck up for his baby sister so faithfully, my anger at him melted away.

“I don’t want to see your ass in here no more,” The owner, a short older blonde lady called “Peaches” had rounded the corner, shaking with anger and screaming at Brooke’s boyfriend. “You cause nothin’ but trouble, and I want you gone. Next time, I’m callin’ the cops!”

“That mother fucker started it!” He shouted, pointing at Emmett. “Ask anybody.”

Peaches glanced at Emmett for a second, and her look visibly softened for a moment.

“I know damn well Emmett wouldn’t have done shit if you didn’t deserve it,” Peaches snapped.

He shook his head, defeated and turned around, walking out of the bar and cussing under his breath. Emmett was still breathing heavily. I walked up cautiously, touching him on the arm rather gently. He turned to me, surprised. It seemed he had forgotten I was there.

“Let me clean you up,” I said quietly.

He seemed to relax a little bit now that Brooke’s ex was gone and his face had gone back to it’s normal color, and his breathing was regular as well. He nodded.

“Sure.”

I sat him down on a booth bench in the far corner and I managed to borrow a  first aid kit from Peaches. Emmett sat down. The only thing that was wrong with him was the cut over eyes eye. Brooke’s ex looked a lot worse.

“This might sting,” I said quietly, suddenly aware of his proximity.

I dabbed some peroxide on the cut, and he flinched for just a moment.

“I’m sorry I overreacted.”

The words fell out of my mouth before I could stop them, but I wouldn’t have tried to stop them anyway. They needed to be said.

“I’m sorry I’ve got such a big mouth,” He responded as i dabbed some more peroxide on it, just to make sure it was clean.

“So we’re calling a truce?” I asked.

“A truce,” He agreed.

I tried to put a small bandaid on it, but he flat out refused to let me. 

“Your sister probably hates me now,” I said after I’d returned the first aid kit to Peaches. We were sitting in the same booth I’d fixed him up in, and I was sipping a Root Beer. Emmett had a glass of Coke, which I strongly suspected had something extra in it.

I was frowning, looking at the table as I awaited his response. Brooke was someone I’d really grown to like in the short time I had been in Paris.

“She doesn’t hate you at all,” Emmett answered, with nothing but sincerity in his voice. I looked up at him, my eyes widened a little bit.

“She doesn’t?”