Coping Mechanisms|Peterick

Guns For Hands

"Why do I need new clothes anyway? These ones are fine.", I mumbled, and stared at my shoes. They had a scuff on them. I didn't remember how I got it.

"Angel, you're going to have to speak up."

"I said why do I need new clothes.", I growled.

Adrenaline spiked in me as he rushed over, sat in front of me, and whispered,

"Don't you take that tone with me, Angel. Just trust me. You're gonna want these."

A random wave of confidence surged through my, and spewed out my mouth.

"Tell. Me. Why."

"Oh. You're gonna be a bratty one aren't you. I suggest you calm that mouth of yours."

"Why"

"I guess I'll just have to help you", he sighed nonchalantly.

"What the fuck does that even—"

He cut me off, when he smashed his mouth into mine. This wasn't any romantic fireworks kind of kiss. This kiss was fueled by anger from him, and fear from me. It was a break up kiss, and we never even dated. He thrust his tongue into my mouth.

Why did he taste like cherries? Why was this almost enjoyable?

I pushed these invasive thoughts out of my mind, and tried just to enjoy this while it lasted. I just let him win dominance. He fucking kidnapped me for God's sake. I'd be an idiot if I thought I would be controlling this kiss.

To my surprise, the kiss slowed down. There was no more anger. Just lust. His breath was hot and heavy.

He pulled away, looking into my eyes. His brown ones looked pained. He bit his lip with his crystal teeth.

"So why do I need them.", I decided to be a smartass.

He whipped out a gun, and before I even knew it, I lay clutching my leg with my mouth ajar.

"Don't think you're gonna want to stay in those jeans now."

I gritted my teeth, put me hands on the ground, and pushed up so I that I was sitting up straight. Blood already soaked most of the thigh part of my white jeans.

I looked up to question Pete, or beg for mercy, or ask for help, but that goddamn door slammed shut, and he was gone.

An unexpected cold front was the forecast in my head. I hadn't seen it coming, now the seed sprouting in my head was frozen in my cranium.
————————————————————
I left him on the floor, blood soaking into his pure white jeans. While I walked up the stairs, I turned the safety back on. He was weak. It was hard to be too critical though. Nearly everyone fell for the kiss. Everyone believed that a kiss from someone meant that they would be safe. Kisses mean nothing.

But he was still weak.

Emotionally and physically. My interest levels spiked, when I saw how serene he was even after last night. He had already given up on his self. I could relate in a way, but he doesn't seem like the type to always have been this way like I was.