2 | Defiance Discipline Dream Repeat

99 I've Been Bad - Zander's POV

Whilst Oliver and Sophia rot in detention, I lounge on the sofa, watching Downton Abbey slide the last book in place - our living room window, previously decorated with stolen, festive ornaments, has been stacked with the books Downton Abbey brought home from Austria that he can't fit on his full bookshelf. It may not look the best, but it makes it harder for Bella to peep in - I reckon it is a win.

He swings a blanket around him and sinks into the spot beside me with a sigh. ''I was a total twat in Austria, and I feel terrible about it now,'' he mumbles sadly, resting his head on my shoulder.

''I was a twat in London, and I feel good and amused when I think back on it,'' I chuckle smugly.

''That's different. You'd expect you to be a bit of a twat. I fully broke in character and appalled Sebastian."

I drone, not being entirely sure how to respond. I don't want to be a callous bastard, but I'm not volunteering to be a comfort item, either. ''...Maybe tell him you're sorry.''

He sighs again, ''I feel too ashamed to even look at him.''

''Aren't you meant to feel ashamed when you apologise?''

''Yes, partly. But you can feel so ashamed that you freeze or want to hide and avoid the person forever while the feeling eats you up from the inside out,'' he explains.

''Why would you do something that makes you suffer?''

He doesn't answer for a minute, and I'm not sure if it's because he's introspecting or if what I said was crass. ''...I didn't think about it at the time.''

''You have yourself to blame then, Downton Abbey," I say, indifferent.

''I know I acted wrong!'' he moans. ''I feel horrible about it.''

''You knew you were wrong, and that it would make you feel bad later, but you did it and now you're feeling sorry for yourself because you're too scared to apologise."

He sits upright to look at me, showing me a face blended with confusion and offence. ''Why are you scolding me?''

''I swear I'm not! I'm just telling you how it is. If I knew being a twat would make me feel as bad as you describe feeling now, I would've tried not to be a twat,'' I reason.

''It's not that simple. I didn't go there with the intention to be a twat," he stresses. "My old schoolmate influenced me badly, and it just happened."

''Could you not tell he was bad then?''

''You don't understand, Zander,'' he sighs heavily, tipping back onto my shoulder. ''I was engulfed by a profound nostalgic feeling as well. I was caught in the moment. I suppose I lost control in a way.''

''I don't do things that make me feel bad or send me to jail. I was a little annoying in London because it was amusing and made me feel good,'' I say.

''Well, everyone makes mistakes, don't they?''

''How is ridiculing Sebastian, slamming doors in his face several times and disgracing your noble family name for a week straight a mistake?'' I ask. ''I genuinely wonder.''

He huffs, staying quiet for another moment. ''...Sometimes people just happen to do something bad and feel ashamed and regretful afterwards. It's human."

''It's stupid,'' I state. ''I don't think you should pity yourself for something you chose to do for a week straight, knowing you would suffer afterwards. It's not even that bad. You're relaxing on your cosy sofa with your loving boyfriend, not handcuffed in a jail cell. Your problem is just an emotion–''

''The emotion makes me feel utterly horrendous,'' he cuts me off, vexed. ''And I know Sebastian has been feeling hurt and upset because of me. So I'm suffering this shame of behaving like a bumptious moron while also rueing over how bad I made my good friend feel, and then I have you by my side being crass."

''I'm honestly not trying to be crass! I'm only asking questions out of pure curiosity and telling you the truth,'' I tell him sincerely. ''I don't know what you want me to do–''

''A little bit of comfort would be reasonable to expect from one's partner."

''But you're not hurt or sick, and you made yourself feel like this, so there's nothing I can do to make it better."

''Can you just shut up and hold me while we watch TV?''

I drone, ''Yeah,'' and lean closer to rather reluctantly wrap my arms around him. I sit like this for a minute or two, feeling more and more uncomfortable. I don't want to be a callous bastard, but I feel like I've stepped as far as one could away from my nature. I feel like a fish on land. Or like a snake shedding. I feel like I'm cringing out of my own skin. I also don't see how this helps him. And I do think it's his fault, and that he shouldn't be whining. If it was the other way around where Sebastian was a twat to him, I would react differently and be more willing to endure this. ''...This feels fucking unnatural, doesn't it?''

''Just be quiet,'' he murmurs.

Not only am I uncomfortable, but I'm getting bored as well. ''We should go out for a run. That will make you feel better.''

I don't think my suggestion is bad or crass because running has proven to be beneficial for your mental well-being. Running helps with my anger, and the kick you get after a good run alleviates the boredom constantly gnawing at me. So I think it would beat Alexander's low mood, too.

''No, I don't run, and I don't want to go outside,'' he mutters.

I groan at his unwillingness. ''I struggle to understand why you feel so bad for something you did out of free will. I don't buy it when you say the whole week was a mistake. You should just man up and apologise if that's gonna make you feel better."

''Please, give me some time to settle at home and reflect on the week and myself."

I groan, downright wearied of this boyfriend-duty. My dad told me that his foster family had cats who would come to him and sorta soothe him when he was little after the adults had been cruel to him and the other foster children. He thinks that's the reason why he felt awful when he accidentally stepped on a dog's tail, or feels sorry for roadkills yet doesn't feel any remorse for setting the house on fire to let his foster parents burn into ashes along with the house - after making sure the cats and children were out of the house. He allegedly did this when he was 15. He was never prosecuted for that incident and today, there are no legal consequences that could arise. The point of the story is that humans are loathly, whilst animals are pure and natural comforters.

''...I just came up with the most brilliant idea,'' I say, letting go of him to push myself off the sofa. ''I'll go out and look if there's a dog or cat or some pet who wants to come in and comfort you.''

''No, I don't want that,'' he says whiningly. ''Come back,'' he pats the sofa.

I shake my head and make my way out in a rush.