Dawnbreakers

Are bruises always bad?

I tapped his shoulder, and he looked at me over his shoulder. I gulped as his icy gaze graced me. "Can we pull over?" He nodded.

Under a streetlight, I sat on the bike while he causally leaned against it. Seconds passed. Then minutes. But only one moment.

"Can I stay with you?"

His head whipped around to face me, confusion and dare I say anger prevelant in his features.

"Why?" His voice was calculated and skeptical, his eyes narrowing in my direction. I simply shrugged. He would only get angry if I confessed it was for him. He stared at me for seconds that felt like millenias, then said casually, "no."

It was my turn to gawk at him. "What?! Why?!"

His irritation grew as he walked towards me, ripped the helmet off my head--which had my hair flying every which way and momentarily blinded me--and placed his arms on either side of me, pinning me in place. "Because you have a home. You're only wanting to stay out of pity," he growled.

"Wrong." Right.

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Fine let's go back to my place where there's no lights or heating or blankets or pillows."

I gulped and broke our staring contest. I really hate the dark.

"What if we go to like a motel or something?"

He glared at me. "No."

"Oh my gosh! What is your problem?!"

"My problem is that you have a better life and you shouldn't tangle yourself up with me."

"You're the one that kidnapped me to take me here! You're the one that started all of this! You know what?! You're right! Take me home! You already made me miss the date of a lifetime!" I ranted, pushing him away and standing, looking away from him.

Silence.

Then chaos.

"What?!" he screamed. He slammed the bike down and paced aggressively in front of me. He tugged his hoodie on and slammed his fists into the pockets. His actions made me anxious, but I was even more antsy when he stopped and stared at me with an evil glint in his eyes.

He stormed towards me and picked up the bike, plopped me on it, shoved the helmet on my head, and sped in the opposite direction as fast as possible. It took all there was in me to not puke on the spot.

Within a minute we were back at the abandoned house. He jumped off the bike, yanked the helmet off me, and threw me over his shoulder. I had an odd sense of being kidnapped, but somehow felt safe. Maybe it was because he wouldn't hurt me. Or maybe it was because I told my mom I was going to be gone tonight so I didn't have to feel guilty that she cooked an extra serving of lasagna.

He somehow gently threw me on the couch and climbed on top of me his gaze was inches from mine, though I couldn't see it in the pitch darkness. I could feel his anger and heat radiate off of him like a protective guard dog. I was comforted by his hostility, as odd and messed up as that seemed.

He slowly bent down so that his face was next to my ear and said one word with so much possessiveness and anger and protectiveness and determination and strength that I couldn't help but crumble into a thousand pieces in his hands.

"No."

He then preceded to kiss the delicate skin on my neck, first gently then more intensely. My nails dug into his back and he growled against my skin. After a long minute, but too short of time spent on his assault, he sat back on his heels, straddling me. I was too caught up in a daze to notice the thick darkness.

"You got a phone?"

"Mhm," I hummed, gesturing to my back pocket. He swiftly retrieved it and turned the phone on so that the screen was lit bright. He turned it on me and admired his work. He growled in approval.

"Good."

"What?" I asked confused. I grabbed the phone and turned the front facing light on to see myself in the camera and I was greeted with three fresh, glowing hickies. "What the heck! Are you insane?!" I sprang up.

He just sat on the couch, probably with a smirk, while I paced.

"Now your date knows you're not free," he stated simply, smugly.

"What the-" I could scream in frustration, "you're the one that said I shouldn't be tangled up with you!"

He grabbed my wrists--an impressive move in the blind darkness--and pulled me to him so that I was seated on his lap. "Well it's you're fault you tempt me so damn much, and I'm just not that strong Babygirl."

"Ugh!" I groaned in frustration, tugging at my hair. He manuveured us to be lying down, him on the outside of the couch. "I hear cold spoons get rid of hickies."

His grip on my waist tightened. "Listen here, 'cause I'm not saying it again. Those are my marks. You are under my protection. If you get rid of them, I'll give you more. You can hide them around your parents if that freaks you out, but if I see you around other guys without them showing I'll make sure our affiliation is clear to everyone. Do you understand?" We lied there in silence. "Well?"

"I don't like you," I pouted and turned the other way.