"Usually when someone is angry, we hear their angry words. Instead, try hearing the unspoken: I am scared, I am frustrated, I am insecure, I am vulnerable, I feel threatened."
- Charles F Glassman
"Boss is angry."
Those words rang in my head like those broken tapes the sellers at the thrift stores scam me into buying.
I've never dealt with an angry boss before.
Or an angry angel.
He's there, on the couch. His body is splayed out straight, feet clad in combat boots on the the arm rest since he's too tall and one thick, muscular arm crossed over his face, hiding those electrifying orbs from me. Black cargo pants and black v-neck like this morning. Swoon.
I probably wouldn't have been able to tell if he was angry, if it wasn't for the punching bag on the floor that's detached from its chain. There's also a hole in it and little grains scattered around.
He was angry angry.
But he's my angel so I walk over to the couch and take off my converse, leaving me in socks with tiny little dinosaurs on them. They were on sale.
Since there's no way I can lay beside him, I crawl on top of his strong body until I reach his face. I pop my head through the small space between the arm that's covering his face and his chest. Once my head makes it through, I lay my hands on his chest and stare at him with a smile.
His eyes shoot open and I almost sigh in relief. So beautiful.
Dalaric doesn't say anything for a while so I'm not sure if he's still grumpy. That's until he lets out a deep, raspy command that makes me blink twice.
"Get off."
Oh.
Okie.
Maybe he is angry. Angry at me.
I crawl back and get off his muscular form, a sad smile on my face as I try to hold in any potential tears if needed. His tone was really harsh.
My brain incessantly skims through the events of today as I stand next to the door, nervously drawing sad faces on my leggings with my converse in the other.
Where did I go wrong? Now humming the tune of 'How to save a life' by the Fray, I try to figure out what I did to make him this angry.
Did I forget to text him that I was coming here? I check my phone and sigh when I see the last sent message.
On my way (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞ ! The wendy's frosty machine is broken :/
Seen: 17:48
Did I not give him enough cheek kisses today?
Are fifty-five of them not enough?
Am I not enough?
I clench my eyes when I think of the only last possible reason.
Does he not like me anymore?
"Stop fucking overthinking."
My eyes shoot open at his words.
He's sitting upright now, hunched over with his elbows on his knees and his head cradled in his hands.
"Okay." Is all I manage to get out with the lump in my throat. What did I do wrong?
"You need to leave." he says, the words etched with sternness and slight remorse.
"No."
He's crazy if he thinks I'm leaving him here, alone and angry when he could potentially harm himself.
Dalaric wouldn't hurt an innocent soul so I don't have to worry about his friends. Except for the poor punching bag.
"Mayella, not the fucking time." He lays his head back, eyes still closed as he crosses his arms over his chest making his arms bulge.
I can't believe I'm challenging a man that could squish me with the veins in his arms. I'm brave like that.
"I'm not leaving."
If he's going to act stubborn, then so am I.
As I say that, his eyes shoot open.
Before I can even blink, he gets up and heavy footsteps sound in the room along with my nervous breathing.
He puts one large hand on the side of my face, lowering his head. Not for a hug, though.
"I go to fucking therapy because I'm angry, Mayella. You're going to get hurt, so fucking leave." He spits out, his eyes glancing down to his hoodie for a moment.
I know he regrets telling me to leave.
His eyes are soft as if he's forcing himself to spew the words that he hates. Not like I'm leaving anyways.
"Nope." I cross my arms and duck out of his hold, walking over to the couch.
I pull on Dalaric's shirt but he doesn't budge.
"If you don't sit on the couch, I'm going to ugly cry."
Dalaric sighs but makes his way to the couch anyways.
His left finger twitches as his jaw stays tightened, his eyes are hard.
I've never seen him like this before.
That doesn't mean I'm going to leave him.
Now for my plan. Taking out the white fluffy blanket and Mr. Jones from my duffel bag, I zip it close and put it on the rolly chair.
Initially, I planned to take a lil' nap here so I brought over my nap blanket and stuffie.
I was hoping that nap would be with Dalaric but since someone's stubborn, I'm going to have to do it the hard way.
After taking both items, I walk over to the grumpy man I've come to like.
I hug Mr. Jones as I crawl into his lap, positioning my body sideways. Before draping the white fluffy blanket over the both of us, I put my head in the crook of his neck, trying to overcome the temptation to lick it.
"What the fuck are you doing?" His voice is much more relaxed now, but his words contradict that.
"What a best friend does."
"Who the fuck said-" Typical Dalaric.
"Don't you dare go there, angel. I won't be very forgiving. Now shush, and relax."
His body tenses as I snuggle further into his warm form.
I wait for a few minutes, knowing he needs his time to cool down.
I have questions, a lot of questions but that can wait, he can't.
Although he admitted to have anger issues, Dalaric would never physically hurt someone for no reason. I've seen the way he treats people. Whether it be his team, the old lady who scowls at us in the apartment building or me. He's respectful and that's only one of the reasons I'm heels over head for him.
Did I say that right? Eh, whatever.
It's about half-an-hour later when his arms come around me, he puts one of his hands under the turtleneck and rubs the sides of my hips. I hope he doesn't feel the stretch marks. They're really cute, though, like little ridges designed just for you.
His other hand tucks my head even further into his neck before giving me kiss on the crown of my head. I put forward Mr. Jones so that he doesn't feel left out of the affection. Dalaric glares but kisses the penguin anyways.
"Fine?" My constantly blabbering mouth opens, still wary of whether he's calm or not.
"Fine." He says, after a few minutes of almost disappointing silence.
I sigh at the warmth seeping from his hands as they stroke my skin. I scoot further down so he can give me a back rub, and sigh again when he does just that.
"How was therapy?" My lips purse as I wait for an answer.
"Fucking awful."
My heart breaks at that, he should be feeling better, right? Now I want to cry.
"When did you start going?" I choose to ignore his answer and continue asking. It's risky but it's worth a try for Dalaric.
"At eighteen."
I furrow my brows, how come he never mentioned it in these past few weeks? He was somehow always at the joint or on a mission or feeding me wendy's.
"W-when did you stop going?"
A certain type of nervousness overcomes me.
What made him stop getting treated?
"When-"
Dalaric takes my head out of his neck and puts his head in the crook of mine, his breath tickling my skin. My hand instinctively smooths his hair as I take a quick sniff. Yummy stuff.
My heart beats way quicker than usual when he says his next words. I didn't prepare for this. I don't think I ever could.
"-when I met you." Oh. Gulp. Swoon.
And then my blabbering mouth opens yet again, the words spewing out like kettle corn in a hot microwave.
"Do you want to be my boyfriend?"
Stupid, stupid Maya.
I need to tape my mouth shut sometimes.
Dalaric sighs a very long sigh. Very long. He lets his head fall back to the wall that the couch sits against, repeatedly banging it softly on the brick while murmuring, "For fuck's sake."
"It's uh-okay if you don't. Please don't hurt yourself." Dalaric meets my worried eyes, putting his forehead against mine, with one of his hands leaving my back to arrive at my head.
"No."
Oh.
Okie.
"C-can we still be best friends? I'm so so-"
Soft lips give mine a quick touch, leaving me to want more. It doesn't matter if he doesn't want to be my boyfriend, as long as we get to do this.
Repeatedly.
Swoon.
Only then does my stomach growl embarrassingly loud.
Dalaric pulls back and gives me a glare, lifting me up like a baby and putting me on my feet.
I should've ate.
I spent most of my money on the keto cupcakes I got for Fatima, then on a taxi to the funeral home and a microwaveable meal for mama.
How on earth do I forget to feed myself?
Thank God for Dalaric.
Thank God.
I smile at him as he grabs his things and a leather jacket, the same one he put on me the second time we met at Landon's house.
"Why were you at Landon's house that day?"
His stormy eyes harden for a second before returning to me, his hands grabbing one of my small fingers.
"It's my house." Why was that hot?
And why does he always avoid my questions?
"Okay and..."
Dalaric pulls open the office door for me, his mind somewhere else.
"He tends to fuck up when he throws a party. I had to stay there just in case."
"Aw, big brother duties!" Dalaric pushes me out the door as I go to boop his nose.
He pushes down the hood of his hoodie so that it completely covers my face. It's really dark in here.
Dalaric's hand continues holding down the hoodie as I yelp. Meanie.
Loud cheers erupt from the lounge accompanied by a surge of roars after each second. My arms push outwards, trying to find some support but it's too late. I feel a sharp sting on my forehead, probably because I bumped into a wall.
"Stay put, Mayella."
Too late for that, angel.
"Dalaric? I can't really see with you holding the hood down. Can you please-"
He finally pulls up the hood and I go to reprimand him but let out a gasp instead at the scene in front of me.
Gulp.
It's a fight.
There's a boxing ring in front of me except it's just ropes keeping the boundaries as they fight on solid ground.
What is this and why am I not involved?
"Fight night." Dalaric says from beside me, his arm enveloping my waist as he tries to push me through the crowd that's surrounding the ring. Is Dalaric's office that sound-proofed? This is so cool.
"Like fight club?" My hand immediately goes to cover my mouth. Oopsie. First rule of fight club is you don't talk about fight club.
Dalaric continues to move through the cheering crowd, his warm arm splayed out on my tummy in an attempt to drag me away from the makeshift ring I really want to see.
A terrified squeal escapes me as a burly man falls face first right in front of my feet. Dalaric stands opposite me with his arms crossed and a disappointed look on his face as he glares at his employee.
His eyes meet mine, waiting for my reaction to the blood that covers each part of the man's face. Jeezdoodles. That must've hurt.
My chubby hands move in an awkward wave as I try and greet the half-unconscious man on the floor while trying to step over him apologetically.
"You're doing great!"
I give him a thumbs up as he groans before getting up, the crowd back to its cheerful state and my face red from embarrassment because I just realized that they all were watching. I don't mind being the center of attention but when it's a group of assassins, it's slightly scary.
Dalaric shakes his head before grabbing both of my hands with just one of his as we finally make it to the exit door.
"Can I join the fight-"
"No." Fair. That man was definitely scared of me though.
Dalaric rolls up the sleeves of the hoodie that I keep hitting him with before leading us to the car.
My phone rings before we reach and I worriedly glance at the broken screen. Why is anyone calling me?
Clicking answer, my brows furrow as Shay's voice sounds from the other line.
"Heyyyyyy, Maya! Listen- I need you to come pick me up, okayyyy?" She drawls our drunkedly.
"Shay, where are you ?" I try asking her, afraid that she's going to get herself hurt.
The phone is pulled out of my hands by Dalaric, whose jaw is clenched tight.
Once shay stops narrating the address, I assume, Dalaric grinds his teeth as he glares at the phone screen.
He opens the door to the car before passing me the phone and waiting until I get inside.
Dalaric does not like Shay, I guess.
The car ride is silent as I moisturize his hands, bored out of my mind. I assumed Shay was at a club, what I didn't assume was that she would be at 'Spire'
The same club where I met my angel.
Dalaric opens my door and grabs my fingers, leading us to the entrance where a startled guard stands.
"Boss? W-what are y-"
Dalaric ignores his stuttering and continues walking past before the guard closes the door.
Wrong move, bud.
"Boss- you do not want to go in there. T-trust me-" He looks to be in his mid-thirties, his balding head shining with sweat.
It's relatively cold out so it's probably from the sight of Dalaric.
He gets me all hot and bothered too. Wait, that's wrong.
Dalaric sighs before pinching the bridge of his nose and letting go of my fingers to reach into his belt.
Dalaric slides his gun out of its hold and presses it against the man's stomach before almost growling his command.
"We pass."
The man nods quickly, looking like a bobble head. Is that what I look like?
Once we pass through and I wave at the traumatized man, I inch closer to Dalaric, already not liking the atmosphere. I probably shouldn't tell him that assuming that he owns his place.
"Was the gun loaded?" I whisper, warily.
Dalaric shakes his head and I let out a sigh of relief.
"Can I try then-"
"No." He says, leading us up the club's stairs as I poke his hard biceps.
Darn it.
It seems surreal that I met this man, who's holding onto my fingers like I'm made of glass just after he held a man at gunpoint, in the room at the end of the hallway.
Dalaric enters one of the doors, with me behind him. My eyes widen at the sight of the foggy room.
There's lots and lots of girls who are dressed in things that I see in those underwear shops. They look pretty, though. Those things seem uncomfortable too.
I wave at a blonde who's on a man's lap. She looks startled as she gathers herself and runs out the door, her heels clicking against the marble floors that reflect the neon lights.
"Out." Dalaric's monotone voice is cold as he commands the room.
Almost in a fleeting second or two, the room is empty, save for a sleeping Shay, a bored Mikey and a smirking Landon.
"What a fucking surprise! Little miss Maya with my big bro,"
Mikey's eyes widen as Dalaric pulls me out from behind him. She looks between us both before gulping and getting up.
Mikey tries walking past us, ignoring my wave, but Dalaric shuts the door making her turn towards me.
Her eyes are filled with fear, something I've never seen in her before. Mikey's mean sometimes but she has a bad girl persona too.
"Maya! Hi..." She forces a smile, putting a strand of her red hair behind her ear.
"I-I didn't know you- you knew him." I notice how she doesn't make eye contact with Dalaric.
He has the prettiest eyes, how could you not?
Dalaric opens the door after she whispers almost apologetically and ashamed, "I'm so sorry."
My brows furrow at first, unaware as to why she's apologizing when she's never done it before but I smile when I feel some relief. Maybe she's had a life changing moment or something. Good for her.
And good for me too.
After she leaves, I turn back to Dalaric and grab his twitching finger, lightly kissing it. He pulls me behind him, away from Landon's gaze.
"I remember telling you that strippers weren't fucking allowed, Landon."
Dalaric's voice is stern and dominant, instantly telling me that I would've peed my pants if I was Landon.
Landon gulps before getting up and straightening his collared shirt and his posture.
"You may own the house and the club, but you don't own me. I'll do whatever the fuck I please."
Landon walks towards him, leaving barely any distance between him and his much taller brother.
"Hello there, Maya." I inch further into Dalaric's back, hiding myself from his brother's disgusting gaze.
Landon continues to speak. "I hope you remember what I told you."
He directs his eyes to Dalaric, a smirk plastered on his face as he smugly says, "Have fun with her, I sure as hell did."
I gasp, covering my mouth. What does he mean by that?
"We-we never did-Dalaric, we never-"
What does he think of me now? I've never touched Landon.
My eyes feel wet as Dalaric's hold on my hand tightens before he lets go.
My expression falls but quickly turns into one of shock as he punches Landon square in the face.
Landon staggers, blood all around his nose and mouth resembling the man in the ring at the warehouse.
Jeez.
Dalaric clenches his fist that is now slightly bloody. I secretly wished he wouldn't resort to violence, though. I grab his fist before he can hurt himself even more.
He can be so dumb sometimes.
He makes a short phone call and a few minutes of staring at Landon's unconscious body later, men armed with vests and ear devices- that I want- rush in to pick Landon up, quite roughly.
Dalaric nods over to the passed out Shay on the couch and I jog towards her, making sure she's breathing.
Shay groans as she opens her eyes and stands up to lean her entire body weight on me. Dalaric keeps the door open before leading us down the stairs.
He really doesn't like Shay.
After walking down the stairs with great difficulty and a hiccupping Shay, I sit her down on one of the bar stools to get her some water. I've already called her mom to pick her up. I hope she learns that she's not supposed to be drinking this much.
Shay takes a few sips, her caramel skin is matted with makeup and she has lipstick all over her face. I don't think I missed her company.
I eat a peanut from the bowl on the bar counter and look around while trying to escape the sweaty bodies and blaring speakers.
My eyes turn hard when I see a brunette trying to get on Dalaric's lap, who's probably reprimanding someone on the phone. He hangs up and tries to push her away gently before she leans forward and whispers something into his ear.
Nope, I am not having it.
I make sure Shay doesn't run away or faint before I walk over to them. Gently tapping the brunettes shoulder, who's clad in a golden skirt and a black tube top, I give her a smile while resisting the temptation to compliment her outfit because it's really pretty.
"Hi! Can you please get off of him?" I gesture to Dalaric who has his arms crossed tensely. I'm proud of him for not getting angry. I need to tell him that later.
"And why on earth would I get off this piece of hunk?" She takes one finger and drags it on his biceps before he pushes her hand away, trying to get up without letting her fall. That's harassment.
I take her slender hand and pull her off, making sure she's steady on her high heels. She scowls at me and looks me up and down. It's really hard to not glare at her right now.
"Because he's mine. And you shouldn't touch what belongs to other people. So please, excuse us."
I grab Dalaric's hand and pull him out of the little corner next to the bar, leaving Shay at the bar with her fuming mother and the brunette with a shocked expression.
I don't even have to look up at him to know he's amused. He wraps an arm around my waist leading us towards the exit, before leaning next to my ear and whispering almost seductively.
"I'm yours, huh, Mayella?"
My confidence wavers as I shove my face into my hoodie, my face feeling very hot in cold weather.
"Yes." It's barely a whisper and it's embarrassing.
God, why on earth did I say that? This is so embarrassing, even for me.
Dalaric stops me before we reach his car. He uses one finger to lift my reddened face before lowering his head.
I grin as I wrap my arms around his neck. His arms are right around my waist. Hugs make everything better. His hugs in particular.
After I tap out, he opens the door for me and smooths out my baby hairs before going to his side.
Dalaric turns to me as we make it out of the club parking, an expectant look in his eyes.
"Home?"
Home is wherever you are. I don't think he likes cheesy quotes, though.
I don't want to go home since Mama's probably passed out. I shake my head at his question and he grabs my hand with a worried look.
"C-can we have a sleepover? Like last time?"
Dalaric doesn't hesitate before nodding. He always understands. It's the reason why I feel bad for not telling him about Landon and Joshua. Or mama.
I make these plans in my mind but I can't seem to bring myself to say it. It just hurts. I don't want to be a burden or make him feel like he has to stay with me, let alone save me.
We pull up at a Wendy's and I try not to cry from happiness. I don't think I deserve an angel like him.
"I'm proud of you for not losing your temper at the bar, y'know?" I chew on my fries, simultaneously feeding him some too.
He eats the fry before kissing my knuckles. I giggle as I wipe off some barbecue sauce from his lips.
His lips curve upwards as we arrive at his driveway. I stare warily at his mischievous eyes. Oh no.
Dalaric moves towards me, his hand at the nape of my neck, rubbing it soothingly. He looks at my lips as I gulp before attaching his.
My hands entwine in his braids, loving the soft feel of it and never wanting to let go. His plush lips perfectly mold with mine and soon leaves me breathless and panting.
After he moves back into his seat, he uses his thumb to wipe my mouth before licking the sauce on his finger. So hot.
"You could've just told me that I had some sauce on there, you know." This is torture. Sweet, tangy torture.
"I could've." He only nods nonchalantly.
Oh God.