Solitary Blue

ACT III

ACT III
POV - Florence Rigby

Florence Rigby did not particularly enjoy or find pleasure in the act of violence.

He didn't like the way he could barely feel his hands after a good fight. Or the way his whole body ached and screamed at him. The ugly bruises ruined his handsome face. Which by the way was not a narcissistic thing to say!

He was charming, in his prime, handsome, and the tallest boy in his year! Girls flocked him left and right for goodness sake! He knew his worth. His worth just happens to decline a bit with bruises on his face. Not a shocker, most girls don't dig that look.

But back to the point.

Blood was a pain to get out of clothes, not to mention the smell of metal was never really gone unless a good week or so passed by. All in all, violence and fights were a pain to deal with. And even more of a pain when some whiny shit went crying to a teacher with bruises and what not calling him a bully.

Him a bully! Laughable behavior of an idiotic loser with no life. Florence had seen true bullying before and what he sometimes did wasn't even that bad. For fucks sake these kids whining to a teacher about a few snide jokes and bruises were practically just crying wolf!

Florence didn't particularly feel his actions counted him as a bully. Half the kids he poked fun at or beat up were either: A, annoying as hell. B, loud mouths. Or C, pathetic wimps who needed to toughen up.

Altair Lamont fell into category C.

"I-i... I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry...." The boy beneath him curls into himself, attempting to string together a coherent sentence, but his efforts are drowned out by disgusting dry heaving and coughing fits.

This is exactly what Florence meant! Like dude get up and stop apologizing. It was frustrating seeing someone so... So stupid!

Florence can't help but peer at the pathetic mess below him with a detached gaze. Altair, sprawled in the mud, appears as nothing more than a lump of skin covered in tears and bruises – a being lacking resilience, a fundamental quality of humanity.

Altair Lamont is nothing but pathetic.

At the slightest hint of adversity, Altair crumbles. A mere punch or raised voice renders him useless. Even the most pathetic of individuals Florence had come across had at least a bit of backbone. But just not Altair...

Maybe he had some form of scoliosis? Behavior like Altair's has to be some kind of medical condition. Why else would hit after hit, insult after insult, not enrage him? No, never Altair. Altair's response always remains consistent – soft, barely audible apologies and eyes pleading for mercy. And tears. God the tears irked him to no end!

Florence probably wouldn't spare a glance at Altair if he fucking fought back once in a while. Actually, that's probably a lie, Altair was not only a pathetic boy with no backbone he was also unfortunate-looking, or in other words ugly. Altair Lamont was a top target in his books, he was ugly and also socially awkward. Poor boy couldn't pick up a social cue if his life depended on it. Not a good setup to have if you're enrolled in a brooding school, honestly, Altair only had himself and his parents to blame.

If he was Altair he would beat up his parents for cursing him with such unfortunate looks. Like come on the poor kid was ginger! Not only that but Altair, poor soul, had a bowel cut, ugly dull brown eyes, buck teeth, and way too many freckles. Really, it looked like someone took a spray bottle with ink in it and just sprayed it all over him. The boy barely had any face left to see beneath the mess of dots and splotches.

A voice yanked him out of his thoughts.

"He's down for the count, Rigby. We should go before any teachers come." Hart yawns before looking around warily, shuffling uncomfortably from one foot to another.