Vice

Fifty

Thea jolted awake squinting at the light peaking in through her window. She quickly sank back into the warm covers. The taste of stale alcohol and bad dreams stuck to the inside of her arid mouth.

It was just after dawn and the chill in her bones hadn't left.

She shivered and pulled the blankets up to her chin.

Pulling the covers with her she crossed the room and pulled the window shut. Her feet swiveled on the floor boards as she turned and nearly jumped out of her skin.

James' elongated form was sprawled across the arm chair. His head was tilted back, exposing the grisly remnants of Thea's anger and the racetrack's unforgiving wall. Thea sighed deeply, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

She tossed the blankets over the bed and pulled on a sweat shirt, not even bothering to pull off the hood. She slipped on a pair of socks and skated to the bathroom for a rag.

Returning to the armchair, she gently got to work, being careful not to wake the beast.

The dried blood and grime came off easily with the warm rag. When she had done all she could do she stepped back and admired her handiwork. 

Although the blood and dirt was washed away, his face was still a swollen bruised mess.

"Well, you kinda deserve it." Thea said through a mouth of cotton. She leaned towards him and traced his broken nose. "Purposely driving head on into a wall." His swollen nose was broken ever so slightly, and she hated that it made his face look perfectly rugged. She poked the tender flesh with her forefinger, "You fucking idiot."

A hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, "Almost getting hit by Ryder's car." He flipped her hand around. "On purpose." His index finger traced her bruised knuckles. "You fucking idiot."

She watched him with passive curiosity, a small grin tugging at her lips.

A soft silence took the place of words. Thea found herself studying the lines of his face again, all perfect except the slight dent her fist had made. From an onlookers perspective, it really wasn't that noticeable, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from it. 

She hurt him. James Carson was damaged, and she was the cause of it.

His fingers fell to the bandaging still wrapped tightly around hers. 

"I'd say you take the winning prize for semi-purposeful injuries." His voice was soft, but there was a razor sharp edge behind each word. He delicately held her hand as if it were a wilting flower.

"Before I met you, I had left this life." She pulled her hand from his, "Let's not forget that small detail James."

James snorted, "We both know you would have returned one way or another."

He received only a painful shrug in return. 

"When are you gonna drop the act?" James bit out harshly. He couldn't contain himself anymore, the frail being in front of him was not the strange girl he had witnessed take down Ryder in that alleyway. She wasn't the same fighter he adored sparring with. 

He knew that perhaps he was being too hard on her. Maybe he should give her more time. But the sight of her in this state made him feel sick to his stomach.

The bandaged body in front of him no longer belonged to Thea Knight. She was a ghost and only an empty vessel with vacant eyes remained of the girl he once knew. 

"Excuse me?" 

He stepped closer trying to find that gleam in her eye that he saw when they first met. Searched for any indication that the girl he loved was still there.