(18+) RED (Complete)

Ch. 29: Tiny steps

"Don't worry. I'll guard you like a pitbull."

That actually made me smile. Just briefly, but still. The thought of my aunt barking and growling at them was comical, and it had a slight calming effect, much like Benjamin's bathing suit theory.

Benjamin... God, I hope he didn't hurt Michael worse than he already did. Maybe I should call him and ask if he was okay? After all the letters he'd sent me, I'd eventually saved his number that he always added at the end. I never thought I would use it, though. Until now.

I heard auntie Dorothy speak angrily to the person outside. Then her voice lowered mid-sentence somewhere. It had to be Michael. If it was Benjamin, she'd probably keep on yelling like she did earlier, and now I heard the other person's voice. It was definitely not Benjamin's deep base one. It was high-pitched and soft, and I could almost picture his apologetic face and pleading eyes just by the sound of it. Then there was silence and the sound of the main door shut closed, and I drew a sigh of relief, knowing that he left. But I was wrong.

After a couple of minutes I heard my aunt's rapid footsteps up the stairs, heading for my room. I also heard another set of feet following behind her, and knew she'd ignored my plea. I should be mad, but...

I wasn't.

Auntie Dorothy didn't say a word when she opened the door to my room. Her eyes said it all. And behind her stood the man that I was so unbelievably angry with earlier.

"Hi," he said. Then he didn't say anything more until we were left alone.

"I'm sorry for hitting you," I mumbled eventually, and my voice sounded so raspy that it was a wonder that he understood what I said.

"I deserved it," he replied with a short chuckle.

"Yeah, you did."

"You can slap me again if you want."

He had a certain glint in his eyes when he said that, so I squinted at him.

"Don't."

"Sorry."

I knew he was only trying to lift my mood, but joking about stuff like that was too soon. Forever was probably too soon. I didn't want to think about it at all.

"So, what's the deal about that mouse thing?" he asked after a while in awkward silence. He took a few steps forward and asked with his body language if he could sit down on the bed. I gave him room, but moved away from him.

"Mousie," I corrected. "It's just this silly thing. We made Christmas cookies, and..."

...it should have been with you.

"Well, I guess it just turned out that way," I finished.

"Ah."

There was another round of awkwardness, and I pretended to be really busy with my hot chocolate. I didn't drink much of it, though. I just used it to warm my hands.

"Did you hurt him?"

"Who? Dickhead?"

I gasped. What a rude thing to call him!