Prompt 4: "Who gave you that black eye?"
Warnings: bruise, mention of violence
Word count: 727
Sighing, you made your way through the crowded kitchen. You had never been one for parties, but you knew how much it would mean to Tyler if you would accompany him to this one, so you had decided to go anyway. It was not like he had begged for you to come. In fact he had only mentioned that he wanted to go to that party, and how much it would mean to him if you joined. But that alone had been enough to send your heart into frenzy, and you had immediately agreed on going.
Only that now he was nowhere in sight. Maybe it had been a little hasty to assume that he really wanted you there, maybe it was more you wanting to be with him than him wanting to be with you.
You had started dating only a couple of weeks back, and even there you were not sure if what you had qualified as dating. There was shy handholding, and flirtatious chit-chat, but nothing more; and you were torn between thinking he was not interested, and he wanted to take things slow. You did not mind slow, but after almost three weeks you were wondering if you had a chance at stealing his heart the way he had stolen yours.
Just when you had managed to find your way out of the kitchen, you heard shouting from outside, one of the voices clearly belonging to Tyler. You tried to make your way past the curious people who had all stormed to the front door, but before you reached it, Tyler was already fighting his way into your direction, pushing past the people in his way.
"Hey, what happened," you asked, instinctively grabbing Tyler's sleeve as he almost ran past you.
He stopped in his steps immediately once he recognised you, and the unfamiliar expression of anger softened into one of calm.
"Just a disagreement," he assured you, but the bruise that was forming under his right eye told another story.
"Who gave you that black eye," you asked, feeling anger boil in your chest at the thought that someone had hurt him.
"I've always had dark eyes, haven't you noticed," he joked, his brown, soulful eyes scanning you face in amusement.
But you did not feel like joking, not when someone had dared laying hands on him.
"Tyler," you asked; your voice reproachfull.
"He called you- I'm not gonna use that word, okay? But he was mean and he deserved it, only that he punched back," he defended.
"Wait, you punched someone?"
"He was an asshole! He insulted you!"
"I can take care of myself, I don't need you to play hero for me," you told him, eyeing him concerned. You had never taken him to be the one to get into fist fights.
"But you weren't there, and I couldn't let him get away with this," he argued.
"If I wasn't there, I couldn't have been hurt about it either," you explained patiently.
Gently you reach a hand up, and ghosted your fingers over the bruised skin under his eye.
"But I won't have anyone believe they can insult you, you see?"
You sighed, knowing that the metaphorical child had already fallen into the well. He was convinced that he had done the right thing, and while you were no fan of violence, you could not help but feel at least a little flattered that he had defended you.
"Okay, I mean... It's too late already, just don't do this again, okay," you mumbled, inspecting the skin that started to turn purple and blue already, "Let's get you something to cool this with. I've seen they got ice in the kitchen."
You were about to turn around to lead the way, but Tyler caught your arm, and spun you back to him, letting you crash into his chest and his lips into yours. Surprised you sucked in a breath, but quickly melted into his touch, which you had been craving for weeks. Reaching up into his hear, you wrapped your fingers into his chocolate brown strands, and giggled when he groaned happily.
"I really like you, I hope you know that," Tyler mumbled against your lips, making you blush.
"I was starting to guess it," you smiled, ghosting a second, shorter kiss on his mouth, "Now let's get you patched up."