SO COLD (18+) currently editing

Chapter 80.5

SO COLD

I bolted upright, an arm clasping the covers and my modesty to my chest securely, pushing a hand through my hair which had flipped over my face. Expression set in a tug of awkwardness, and teeth clenched, the clammy touch of embarrassment brushed against my skin.

Isiah entered the room. He didn't frown, didn't glower, but his disapproval was evident: an eyebrow raised in rhetorical questioning. There seemed to be a charge of power play between the men, two alpha egos in a clash for dominance, eyes locked. No cards of deceit, no fabrications or tales, no flickers of evasion to hide the truth: Isiah knew who Cole was. Unabashed, and vainglorious in his mannerisms, Cole's natural disposition brought forth touchy attitudes.

"Isiah," I interposed on their confronting complexions, sliding to the edge of the bed, feet touching the floor, and grasping Cole's hand to reign him in, grip tight as if I was trying to crush his hand. He looked down at me as I spoke, domesticated. "I asked Cole to come. He's staying here for a little while. Is that alright?"

"An unusual time to arrive," Isiah took his first jab, petulant and ill-humoured, mouth set in a firm line. Cognac-brown eyes fixed on Cole. "Is that where you were all night? Rushing off in the dark to bring him? There are taxis around at this time, Shay." 

"I'm sorry. I should've told you before–" I chose the safest approach to mollify his anger only for it to backfire.

"You shouldn't have left in the first place." He spoke sharply, cutting across, expression discoloured in displeasure as he met my gaze. "He's a grown man capable of making his own way." His eyes flitted back to Cole. "And you should have a little more sense than to ask her to leave in the middle of the night."

I could sense the brewing argument in the wind, impending on the edge of the horizon. I knew I would have to intervene on the dispute but with a spirit that had withered over the course of the night, my efforts would be half-assed. It was too early for this. Too late in a night that had ended as soon as the sun ascended the sky full of heavy hanging clouds. 

"You're right," Cole conceded in a surprising turn of events, head bowed slightly in acknowledgement of his mistake. "It won't happen again."

Eyebrows nudging down, Isiah exhaled slightly, acquiesced, the flames of his bad mood soothed. He turned to me, voice softer. "You look tired. You should sleep. Breakfast is at ten." He left the room, door closed firmly but quietly after him, leaving behind moods that were restless with guilt and temperaments that were disquieted.

I felt bad. I strode across the room, grabbing a sweatshirt in my stride and tugged it over my head, heading out of the room. I closed the door for privacy. Across the hallway in seconds. "Isiah." I said before he entered the bathroom. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you worry."

I felt worse once I saw the light of the bathroom illuminate the tiredness of his face; he hadn't slept all night, likely up waiting for me to return, weariness weighed down on his shoulders. He sighed heavily, and it was clear he was exhausted. "Do what you like, Shay. I can't tell you what to do, you won't listen to me or to anyone. I've tried talking to you, and I'm through with it. There's no point – just," he exhaled, waving me away. "Go to bed."