It Started With A Concussion ✔️

Chapter 16

Immediately, I could feel myself getting agitated. He's able to get me like this so quickly—and maybe that's what he wants.

Forget that—it's exactly what he wants. So with all the self control I had at the moment I do the one thing I don't think I've done in years.

I stay quiet.

I sit up and I don't say a word. My eyes narrow at him out of frustration and habit. He seems to be confused as to what I was doing, but he decided to deal with it.

He does the same as I do. He sits up and watches me. His stare was so fierce I'm sure he was trying to figure out what I was doing.

The more we sat like this, the more he snapped the band on his wrist, and the less restraint I had. With no telling how much longer we had in here, I was forced to keep this up as long as I could.

Sure enough I was able to hold out longer than he was. With a huff he pushed himself up the wall, keeping his eyes on me.

The annoyance in his eyes was quite noticeable and it made me smirk. "Oh what's got you annoyed now?" I ask as if I don't already know the answer.

"You're boring me." he says, crossing his arms.

"I just want my hair tie back." I say in a monotone voice.

"Why don't you come and get it?" he offers, pulling the band once more.

"Give it back." I repeat myself. "I'm not asking."

"Well then, if you don't want to ask politely you can take it yourself." he taunts the hair tie again. "Dumbass." I hear him mumble to himself.

Ok that's it. I had no more self restraint left in me. It took every fiber in my body not to get up a few moments ago, but now my patience has worn out.

Pushing myself up the wall, I took a short step closer to him. "God, you're annoying."

"And you've told me that how many times?" he presses me.

"Way too many and you seem to just get worse." I roll my eyes. "I want it back."

"Want what?" he asks dumbly.

"My hair tie you fuck."

"Why?" he questions me again.

"Because it's my favorite one!" I raise my voice.

Pent up with frustration over this damn hair tie, all I wanted was to have it back. I was basically toe to toe with him as I reached for his wrist.

He really didn't have anywhere to move so I grabbed his hand and pulled it towards me, finally getting a finger under the band.

It was definitely a struggle, but I almost had it off when he flipped the tables on me. Finally showing his true strength, he pulled his arm away and slipped the hair tie back onto his wrist.

I frowned at how easily he could just get out of that. I almost had it back.

"Oh c'mon now Em. I'm not gonna make it easy for you." he says in a taunting manner.

Oh my god I'm gonna lose it.

And I did.

"God Jackson, you are such a fucking piece of shit!" I raised my voice without a care knowing the music outside was too loud for anyone to hear me. "I just—fuck. Fuck you!"

I could barely voice my drunken frustration when he took my chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting my face so I was looking at him.

"You know, if you want to scream at me and call me all this shit, you should try and actually look at me when you say it." His words rolled off his tongue so easily, but went through one ear and out the other.