All I Ever Knew Was Your Name [Nick Robinson]

FORTY THREE

a kiss by the driver era

My head is spinning as I watch Nick being pulled out and away from the bar by two of their security guards. Another one comes along and tosses the other guy out the door, and I'm inclined to follow.

"Mary, what happened? I don't—"

"Take these," I say to Owen frantically, handing off the two drinks from the bar. "I got him. Just close my tab when you leave, okay? Grab my jacket, too."

He nods, looking concerned and worried for not only me, but for his friend who is currently outside for defending me, something I didn't think I'd ever see again.

I look in the direction of the bathroom for Penny, but I see that she's not in line anymore. She must be in one of the stalls.

Knowing that Owen will take care of her, I push through the crowd again, which seems like it's never ending and barely budging from the sudden chaos.

I show no mercy as I continue, needing to get to him before he gets too far away.

Once I reach the door, I practically fall out of the building and look in either direction, the bitter air greeting me yet again. Only this time, I don't have a coat to fight it off.

"Fuck," I mutter, clenching my teeth as the icy air impales my skin.

To my left is Nick. I see him walking down the sidewalk with his hands buried deep in his jacket pockets. My legs feel like jell-o, but I hurry behind him, not knowing exactly what I'm going to say.

"Nick," I exhale, catching up to his side.

That's a start.

He turns to face me, dark and tired eyes there to greet me. Stunning eyes, at that. The most beautiful eyes I've ever seen, actually.

"Hi," I breathe out, crossing my arms over my stomach to keep warm.

The bitter wind blows my hair across my cheeks, attempting to block my view of Nick.

"You, um," I start, swallowing hard to catch my breath. The combination of the cold air and his stone cold gaze knocks the wind out of me. "You didn't have to do that for me."

He shakes his head. His gaze appears cold. Shut off. "Well, nobody else was going to."

I nod, looking down. "You're right. I know."

It's quiet again. The only noise is the sound of the wind blowing between alleyways, and the occasional car driving by. Everyone is inside due to the cold.

My eyes find my feet, watching as I nervously fidget them on the gravel.

"Nick, are you—"

"Why did you do that, Mary?" he seethes, forcing me to look up at him. It sounds like more of a statement than a question. "Why did you have to get fucking wasted tonight, huh?"

Silence again. I can't tell if the bitter cold is bringing tears to my eyes or the harshness of his voice.

"I— I don't—" I stammer, shaking my head.

"Did you want me to pay attention to you? Is that what this is? I saw you looking at me from the bar," his voice is getting louder. Each word is like a stab to the chest; I flinch with every one. "Well, you got my attention. So what do you want from me?"

Again, the air is filled with completely dead silence. I'm not sure what to say, or what he wants me to say, but I'm taken back by his anger towards me.

His eyes are dark as they search mine, rage seemingly coursing through his body in a way that I'm not familiar with. This side of him and I have never met before.