Skryra shuffled her feet, not really know what to think as she made her way to him. It was unlike anything she had ever imagined that could happen between the two of them, especially after what happened with Lyn. The thing that confused her the most is that she wasn't angry, not at him or her, for once. She was just empty and confused, and needed to talk to someone, to him especially. Its strange, not being angry, not wanting to lash out, but it didn't feel bad necessarily.
She turned the corner to see him leaning over the table, his notes and the agency file they were currently working on were strew about as he studied them, most likely trying to find routes for them to take and formulating a play by play in his head.
She watched him taking him in as he almost always dressed the same on and off missions, skin tight tank tops, combat pants and boots, and his fur lined jacket was on the hook nearby. She finally worked up the courage as she cleared her throat, getting his attention as she moved towards the table and pulled one of the chairs out, sitting down and looking up at him.
He only shifted his eyes, moving to look over at her and cocking an eyebrow? She gulped down a sigh and sat there, waiting for him to say something, anything...
"Do you need something Skry?", his voice rumbling as she looked away mouth moving but no words came through. Do I have something to say? she thought to herself. While she struggled with the words he just sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "If this is about yesterday, its been handled". She gaped at him, it couldn't be that simple it just couldn't...
She tried to speak and he cut her off dismissively, "Just drop it Skryra, there's nothing more that needs to be done". She felt her eyes start to sting as she stood up, knocking the chair over and slamming her hands down, "You aren't even going to ask? You're just gonna fucking drop it? Do you even care about my side of the story?". He took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders as he turned to her and pulled the chair out that he had been standing over, taking a seat in front of her.
This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
"Its not your fault pup, and I do care about what you have to say, but in way over your head with this. Just let me handle it".
She sat there dumbfounded as the tears finally spilled over cheeks, a sob choking the rest of her words as she grabbed his arm, clinging to him. It wasn't the first time she had seen him cry, but it was still a rare enough sight to make him uncomfortable. He patted her head softly, trying to find the words that would calm her down, but as he opened his mouth he felt her go still as a stone. All he could feel was her soft breath quickly puffing against him, realizing she was smelling him. "Skry, wait...", he didn't get another word out as he felt her smaller fist collide with his face. It was hard enough to snap his head to the side, certainly impressive for her but it was the unbridled rage that stung even more.
"YOU FUCKED HER LAST NIGHT? YOU HAVE THE GALL TO TELL ME ITS HANDLED AND YET YOU FUCKING SMELL LIKE HER, YOU FUCKING BASTARD, AFTER EVERYTHING WE'VE BEEN THROUGH, WHY? WHY? WHY IS ALWAYS HER? I LOVE YOU, I ALWAYS HAVE WHY CAN YOU JUST FUCKING SEE THAT".
Her sobs continued once more, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she fell to her knees. Why, why her, why did she have to ruin everything, take everything good from her. Why did she have to make her feel this way, even around him, it was fucking stupid.
"Skryra...", he started, leaning down and trying to do his best to pull her out of this meltdown, "I'm sorry, I can't love you, not the way you want".
Her world turned upside down in that very moment, and without another word she shoved him away, rushing out of the Lodge's kitchen and barreling down the hallway, slamming the door to the library as she rushed inside, leaning against the door as she slumped down, defeated and hollow yet again.