I Punched the Player (Under Construction)
"Just a minute, Casanova, I have to speak to my dear, sweet, naive, sister in private. " He pulls me into the kitchen and the swinging door shuts behind him. I have the strong urge to slap him repeatedly but decide to hear him out first.
"What the hell was that, Dan?" I demand, wrenching my wrist from his grasp. I place my hands on my hips, frustrated with him. Dan sighs and shakes his head.
"No." He states like I'm an unruly toddler about to touch the stove top. The utter gall of him! He's starting to make me angry.
"I don't remember needing to ask your permission." I bite out. Dan groans and folds his arms across his chest like he's my parental figure instead of my sibling.
"James Mavoy is a user. He's never had a girlfriend, and he uses females like they're tissues. He's a PLAYER, Rye. He'll rip your fragile heart to shreds and not even think twice about it," Dan eyes the closed kitchen door with a glare and then focuses his attention back on me.
"I can handle it." I assure. He places his hand on my shoulder to show he cares about my wellbeing but it feels more like a slap.
"You don't know him that well." I shrug out of his hold.
"I know what I'm doing." There's such finality in my tone that Dan tenses up and gives me a defeated shrug.
Whatever, Rylee, just don't say I didn't warn you."
"This conversation is over." I state, storming out of the kitchen.