After Jack left my room, I just sat on my bed feeling...terrible.

I felt so guilty, his nose looked really painful. I didn't meant to do that, exactly. I don't even know what I was thinking. He had every right to yell at me, but it was just scary how close he was and how pissed. He was right about being able to beat me in any physical sense, my arms hurt where he gripped them and my had collided with the wall none too gently when he shoved me. At least now I knew better.

I was nervous about what he would do next, and I did not want to set him off again like that. Pranks and name calling is one thing, but violence is a whole new step. Turning off my laptop and lights, I decided to just go to bed. It would probably be better just to lay low and out of Jack's way. We were supposed. Whatever he did to get back at me, I can accept. I'll take it like a man...woman, whatever. I did almost break his nose. Least I could do.

At least, that's what I thought that night. The morning however, shit hit the fan. Hard.

I woke up groggily, and went to the bathroom to shower. Glad Jack's room was open yet, which meant he was asleep and I can avoid him all day. I hopped in quickly, just wanting to get it over with. Pouring out my shampoo, I thought it felt a little weird, but didn't think anything of it.

Until I tried to lather it in my hair.

“Ah fuck.” I growled, and rinsed out the oil.

Fucking hell, okay fine. He got me there. He probably fucked with my other stuff. Now I was gonna have to be careful. I just conditioned my hair and made a mental note to buy new shampoo. I hopped out and went to brush my teeth. I checked the tooth paste, and it seemed okay. So I went about my business, but the second I put the brush in my mouth I was met with flour and something I couldn't, and didn't want to identify. Groaning, I just spat out the disgustingness and used mouth wash for the day instead.

I checked over everything from there on, my brush had flour in it. So I made sure to rinse it out. Next was getting dressed using my perfume. I slipped on the clothes I had brought in and sprayed myself only to gag at the smell. Vinegar? Really? Does that fucker have any idea how expensive this shit it?

Taking a deep breath, I went to my room to change my now soiled shirt, only to find most of my clothes were missing. Frowning, I took out a cami I usually wore as an under layer for winter, or to bed. I borrowed some of Jack's Old Spice spray, ignoring that I smelled like boy now, and went to the laundry room. I checked the dryer, and found nothing. I looked in the washer and what I saw tore it.

My clothes were ruined. I didn't have to look much, the smell of bleach attacked me the second I opened the washer. Seeing red, I slammed the washer shut and ran straight to Jack's room.

“Jack!” I screamed, ripping open the door. He was standing in his room, just tugging on a shirt. When he looked at me, he only smirked.
“Problem?”
“Damn straight there's a problem!” I yelled. “Okay, fucking with my bathroom stuff, I can understand. Even though perfume is expensive as hell, but my clothes? Now you went too fucking far with me.”

I rushed over to him, and stabbed him in the chest with my finger.

“Those are ruined. For fucking ever. And some I can't even get back! They're from concerts! Tour shirts you dickwad. I have to fucking replace all of it now. I need money for other shit too you know.”

I continued poking him, which turned to shoving until we were near his bed. I continued to yell at him. Soon it was just insults, then he was yelling at me, and he smacked my hand away. We kept screaming and snarling at one another till I got fed up and just tackled the asshole.

“You are fucking asshole!” I yelled, shoving his shoulders down. He rolled us over pretty easily.
“Yeah, and you a stupid bitch.” I kneed him in the stomach and rolled us back.
“You better replace my shirts you dick!”
“Never.” He spat and I went to smack him across the face, but he grabbed my wrist and we rolled over again.
Only this time, we fell off the bed. I landed on my back painfully, and Jack had both my wrists pinned by my head.

“I told you not to get phsyical with me.” He growled, and lifted one of my arms up. “I'm taller and stronger then you. I could easily snap your wrist. Right now.”

To prove his point, he started bend my hand back painfully, making me gasp.

“Admit it. Fucking admit that I'm better than you.” He demanded, and I clenched my jaw.
“No.”
“Ember.” He glared down at me, and bend my hand further. It hurt, it really fucking hurt. I could feel tears well up. I tried to wriggle free. Jack stopped bending my wrist and looked at me confused for a second. I did not expect that mood swing. Looking up, I saw a ripple of different emotions run across Jack's face. First, he looked guilty, then kinda annoyed, then confused.

Jack still had me pinned down, hands holding onto my wrists tightly. He leaned down, his face near my neck and I felt my heart start pounding against my rib cage. I felt trapped, and nervous for some reason. I had no idea what he was doing.

“Are you wearing my body spray?” He mumbled, his breath against my ear.
“Umm...y-yeah.” I answered. He's not pissed about that now too, is he?

Suddenly, Jack was standing, yanking me up and shoving me out of his room hard enough to make me fall over. All I heard was the door shut and I quickly got off the ground. Great, now on top of my surely bruised wrists, the heel of my palms at rug burn. Heading back to my room, I shut the door, with no intentions of coming out of it for awhile.

This...was not how I expected anything to go.

Notes

Ohh, I wonder how Ember feels now?