apartment 23 // mitchel cave

8

angeline's p.o.v.

i woke up to the sound of people talking loudly in the living room. this wasn't the only time i had been interrupted in my sleep though. throughout the night, i had been getting texts from james asking where i was and when i was coming back to him. i took this as my opportunity to block his number on my phone. although i would have to face him eventually to get my items from his apartment, i needed to make sure he had no way of contacting me. it was my way of indirectly cutting off all ties from him.

the voices downstairs were getting louder so i let my curiosity get the best of me. i slowly tiptoed out of mitchel's room and down the steps. there were the suspects: clinton and christian were rushing around mitchel as he sat on one of the stools around the kitchen island. they didn't seem to notice me watching them from the top, so i headed down there to meet them. once i got closer, i understood why they were practically running around the kitchen. mitchel sat there, a gash in the side of his face and his lip busted open. there was blood smeared on his face and his sleeve, presumably from him trying to wipe it away.

"what the fuck happened?" i asked loudly, causing all of them to look at me with shocked expressions.

"just go back to bed angeline, don't worry about this." mitchel said quickly, trying to turn his face away from my view.

"i already saw mitchel. i'm not going back to bed while you sit down here and practically bleed to death out of your face." i stated sternly.

"really angeline, we got this. just get some rest." clinton said.

"no, now let me see him." i snapped back before walking over to mitchel.

i gently held mitchel's face as he sat there, staring into my eyes. i ran my pointer finger over the small bruise that was forming on his cheek and he winced slightly. it was weird seeing him like this knowing that just a few days ago i was in his situation.

"mitchel, what did you do?" i asked him softly as played with the blood stained sleeves of his shirt.

"please don't be mad." he said.

"i mean, i'm already kinda pissed that you came home looking like this." i told him. he laughed lightly before returning to his serious demeanor.

"well... i kinda beat the shit out of james." he told me. i removed my hands from his face suddenly.

"wait... what?! mitchel!" i yelled. i looked over at clinton and christian. they simply shrugged at me.

"we're gonna go...." christian said awkwardly before pushing a slightly tipsy clinton up the steps and out of the room. i'm guessing they didn't want to be around to witness this conversation.

"i told you not to get mad." he sighed, drooping his shoulders slightly.

"mitchel... this is so messed up." i said, rubbing my temples.

i was beyond conflicted at this point. i knew deep down that james deserved to be beaten to a pulp after everything that he had done to me. in a way, i couldn't be mad at mitchel one bit. he was trying to stick up for me, and in the process he ended up fucking up his own face too. but then again, morally, this was wrong. so wrong. there were so many safer ways he could have dealt with this. hell, i didn't even want him to do anything about it. i really wanted to forget about everything that had happened and now having to wake up and see these marks all over mitchel's face i would just be reminded of the pain james had engrained in my life.

"i'm really sorry angeline, but i couldn't just sit there in that club and watch as that asshole laughed and enjoyed his life. he deserves to be as fucked up as he fucked up your life. you have to understand where i'm coming from." he pleaded with me. his eyes looked so sad. he really did mean well.

"i know, i know. i understand where you're coming from, but i really just wanted to let this all go. who knows that the fuck he's going to do to me or you? he never lets this shit go that easily." i told him.

"listen, we could sit here and argue over this or you could help me clean up my bloody ass face." he laughed.

"oh right, sorry." i laughed, allowing him to change the subject so suddenly.

he sat there patiently as i gently wiped away the dried up blood that had accumulated on his cheek and on his lip. he stared up at me as i cleaned him up which gave me a strange feeling in my stomach.

i shouldn't be feeling this way about him again.

we were over.

everything he had done over the past few days was because he pitied my situation... right?

pushing my thoughts to the back of my head, i analyzed the cut on his face. it wasn't deep enough to need stitches but it definitely wasn't any paper cut. his lip was noticeably swollen; a cut was sliced in the side of his bottom lip. luckily, there was no more blood seeping out of the wounds.

"thanks angeline, you're a life saver." he laughed as he stood up from his seat.

"it's no problem. wouldn't want you to bleed out on the floor would we?" i replied, giggling slightly. we both stood there awkwardly for what felt like minutes.

"can i hug you?" he asked quietly. it was weird seeing him in any other form other than extremely cocky and confident. he seemed so unsure of his actions. so vulnerable. this took me by complete surprise.

"um... sure." i said, opening up my arms. he slowly wrapped his arms around my waist and brought me in close to him, the smell of his cologne and nicotine filled my nose. his embrace was all i needed in that moment. the void that i once tried to fill with drugs and booze now felt complete, even though i knew it would return to its emptiness once we separated. i felt the urge to hold onto every last moment i had standing here in his arms.

his breathing was slow, yet i could feel his heart beating fast in his chest.

he was as nervous as me.

he felt the same way.

after what felt like hours, he let go of me and grinned. in that moment, i knew that my feelings towards him were being reciprocated.

everything would be okay eventually. i just knew it.