Looking for trouble | Vol. 2 | Jamie Bower fanfiction

6 | Backfiring party crashing

His eyes lock with mine. What I see in them nocks the air right out of my lungs. I have never in my life seen such a look. It was filled with hatred and disgust, and then coated the sticky liquid of hurt and anger. How? What have I done to deserve such a look? We were fine this morning! Then he out of the blue does this? Which he so shouldn't have! I can already tell before it happened, the way they moved and the appearance of triumph in his eyes as he slow leans in.

He leans forward, towards the girl in front of him, taking her face in his hands and then with his eyes locked with mine, he kisses her. I repeat. HE! KISSES! HER! The girl leans into him, taking a hold of his neck, enjoying the kiss. His eyes leave mine as he focuses his full attention on the woman in front of him.

I feel as if I float out of my body hovering high up in the air, over the dancing mob, watching as he turns his back on my body on the floor and dance away with his arms around the other girl. I see it all, - or more like imagine it but whatever. Before I without a warning get sucked right back into my body again. What pulled me in you ask? Oh, you know. The usual. Flaring, raging anger.

What the bloody hell is wrong with him?! Does he have some sort of mental health issue? Has he finally fallen off his damn skateboard and gone retarded - no offence to the retarded people - but he is the biggest douchenossle on the face of this blue planet. There went jolts through my legs as if they weren't sure whether to charge after him or run away, far away, as quickly as possible. I want my stupid legs to stop, but they just kept jittering as he dances away with the girl. Stop it, make a decision. Now! I think desperately, as if my legs could make the decision for me. My doubt before that we haven't been a thing is gone. We are - or at least were - a thing. We were a big huge thing. This isn't the reaction of a person who he is just shagging. This is the reaction of his.... yeah I'll get around to the weird words another time.

Finally my legs seem to make my decision for me and I charge after him, weaving unharmed through the masses. Dodging elbows and bouncing butts in bucket loads. I see him. I reach him, rip him from her. He has a dazed look on his face, but he seems to quicken up as he register it is me. I don't start yelling. I make a decision I'll probably regret later, but I am so angry I can barely contain myself. I can't hear the music, over the soaring in my ears. First Mathilda, now this bint?! He is like a sickness. He takes his good sweet hold of you and then he kills you off. Good thing I haven't told him I love him. He doesn't deserve that. I shove him hard on the shoulders with the flat of my palms. He tumbles backward only just saying on his feet - gratitude of being whipped into shape by professionals. I am strong as fuck. He might also be stronger, but I have the element of surprise and the feelings of a scorned woman ripping through me. He looks at me his expression unreadable. His eyes are open wide as if he is surprised, but his mouth twist as if he is about to cock out laughing. At what? I don't know.

"So you don't like your own medicine?!" he shouts over the crowd. I can only barely hear him. But I do, though I don't understand a word. My own medicine? Now he is imagining things too? Then I remember I don't care anymore, he kissed another woman, which is more than enough reason for me to get pissed. There is no fucking way he can explain this one into the ground. I feel like screaming. But I don't, I just stare him down as I take two strides closer to him. Then I clog him. My fist plants itself right in between his eyes hard and unyielding. Eat dust shit brain. He goes down, his momentarily limb body hitting the ground hard. I feel bad for about a second, but then he tumbles around yammering and clutching his head. It's sort of a wonder he hasn't gone out like a light.

Then my legs disappear from under me. One second they are present, the next they are gone. I hit the ground, arse first, then back and head. Stars swirls around my eyes. I can't tell if people are noticing us or not. I am too dizzy. He has whipped my legs out from under me with a quick lash of his arm.

"What the fuck Skye?!" he yammers over the music. I don't give him the courtesy of an answer. I can show him just fine what I feel, by beating his pretty face to a pulp. I charge him, swinging my legs over him and trying to grab his neck. This time he is prepared for my anger. As soon as I settle over him - which I now realise is a pretty dumb move - he twists, locking my body under his superior weight.

"Get of off me, you cheating arsehole!" I scream as I try to hit him across the face, he dodges my attempts easily, sealing my hands together across my head with one hand. So much for being strong... He suddenly lets go of me as if burned, he rolls off. I sit up panting, ready to jump him again. The anger just wouldn't disappear

"Stop that, Skye!" he yells at me, his face is red and I can see the vain on his forehead.

"Like you said you would stop, shagging other women?" I scream back, and then as a second thought I swathe a slap across his face. He hand goes to his face; he must be pretty fucking dizzy. Or he just has a big fat scull. Most likely the last one it seems.

"Aah! Shit! Are you crazy?! Stop hitting me! Would you like me to beat you?" he bellows as he recovers, we are still sitting on the ground. The nearest people have already noticed us and have formed a large circle around us.

"Fuck you, Jamie! Just fuck you! I trusted you and then you go and do that bint?! What for?!" I yell indicating toward a blank space where the girl had stood just moment before. Oh well...

"Like you're the one to talk! I saw you!" he roars back, I just stare at him. Saw me? What the hell was there to see? "You kissed some guy at the beach today and you can't even fucking remember?!" his voice is high and squeaky.

"What?" I quack confused. Has he gone off the deep end?

"I can't believe this!" he sighs, "you're not going to deny it, are you?!"

"What are you talking about, James?!" I say using his real name, more as an insult if anything. "As I see it, it's you who is snogging some darf bimbo for no reason what so ever?"

"You are the one kissing that tall, curly haired man boy at the beach in the first place!" he bellows his eyebrows high and frustration emanating from him.

"I didn't kiss anybody!" I scream, he has to stop accusing me of things I haven't done.

"Don't deny it Skye I saw you with him!" he screams back. Tension is running high, my skin tingles and my insides hurt. People have formed a circle around us and the music has become lower. They're watching us, as if they expect us to start wrestling like we're in the fight club, which to be honest isn't that farfetched. One of the downside to learning how to fight is that you - or at least I, it seemed - used it to get some of my anger out. Especially if I knew the person whom I was angry with could defend themselves. I had stopped counting our sparing matches at the dojo long ago.

"I suppose there isn't chance I'm the tall curly haired man boy in question?" Somebody rumbles in a deep, so British accent even I notice it. My neck snaps to the side so quickly I am surprised I doesn't get whiplash. What I am faced with is the tall man from the beach. Or I suppose I could say his name, as I have been told it is Tom Hiddleston.