Day Twenty-Three: Arguing

Day Twenty-Three: Wednesday

Twenty-Third Challenge: Arguing

Author’s Note: Under a “Read More” for A’s mouth. And Matt’s.

Let’s just say a lot of screaming and swearing takes place.

His sullen blue eyes watched as she paced the living room, holding a hot mug of coffee in her hand as she talked on the phone, face scrunched up in deep thought. Matt couldn’t understand it. She was more closed off, busier than ever – and it had been a week already. He thought it couldn’t be worse, not until she would come home in the late nights and leave in the early mornings, with him left behind as he worried for her safety. He knew she was trying. It was just he wondered if he even tried hard enough.

She sighed and continued to talk, most likely to Touta, sipping from her mug and frowning, pacing and walking, not meeting his gaze even once. He didn’t like it. Matt didn’t like being ignored. He tried to speak up but she held up a finger to silence him, her voice growing frustrated as she spoke to the man on the line, trying to convince them that their current plan wasn’t good enough.

He wasn’t able to even kiss and hug her as much, not to mention the lack of intimacy. This unsettled him. A frustrated sigh of his own escaped his lips as he watched her, and soon, he got off the couch with a few muttered words she probably didn’t catch. His steps faded away and he went to the kitchen, turning on the exhaust and taking out a pack of cigarettes as well as his lighter from his back pocket of his dark jeans. He lit a cigarette and smoked, slowly letting out his irritation through the smoke that was soon sucked in, into the exhaust that hovered above him.

From the kitchen, the ginger could hear her footsteps. Back and forth, and then she most likely sat down on a couch. Her footsteps had stopped. One drag turned into two, and Matt found himself smoking his second cigarette. The talking eventually stopped, and he heard her groan from the living room.

“Don’t you even think of drinking,” he called with a slight edge in his voice.

“I wasn’t planning to,” she grumbled, walking into the kitchen and grabbing a glass. He watched silently as she went to the fridge, pulling out a carton of mango juice. “I’d stop that if I were you thought,” she muttered under her breath, putting both items onto the smooth black surface of the counter.

“Excuse me?”

She looked up slowly, a little surprised at his reaction.

“Excuse me what?”

“Repeat that.” he put out the cigarette and threw it into the trash can, crossing his arms and giving her a look. Not the look wherein he tried to send her a hidden message, or a look where she was clueless and he wanted her to know what he really meant. This was a look, a real look where he looked irritated, pissed even.

And she didn’t know why.

“You go rattling about my drinking while you smoke the living hell out of that thing,” she pointed at the cigarette pack he held, her eyes a shade darker. “I hardly think that’s fair. So let me drink and I’ll let you have a smoke.” She turned and started walking to the liquor cabinets above the sink, but his next words stopped her.

When she heard him, she froze and turned to him, her mouth set to an angry glare at her eyebrows raised. “Say that again, Matt. I dare you.”

His irritation was at its peak.

So was hers.

“Say what?”

“You know what you said!” she snapped, the alcohol seemingly forgotten. “About me and my drinking. You know you said it, goddamn it, and say it to my bloody face instead of saying it to my back! My eyes are up here!”

“FINE! I can’t believe I’m living with a fucking alcoholic who can’t help but drink herself shitless all day and night – it’s like taking care of an addict, I swear to God – and don’t you give me that look, Ari!”

His outburst made her stagger back the slightest bit.

Her mouth was slightly open, eyes blinking rapidly to stop the tears. She swallowed thickly and gritted her teeth, trying to find at least something to say to him.

“…fuck you.”

“What?”

“Fuck. You.”  She said it slowly, voice dripping with resentment. “Fick Dich, Matt. Do I need to say it in another language for you to understand?! FUCK YOU. Screw you for even saying that, I can’t believe you even said that!” her voice grew higher, and she was soon screaming at him, all control over her emotions lost. It soon turned into an angry string of German, and Matt could only catch the words you son of a bitch, screw you, and a lot of other expletives he didn’t even bother translating.

“Well, FUCK YOU TOO!” he yelled back.

“Fuck you for being such a clingy bitch, fuck you for crying and sobbing when I came back – God, it was like I died or something!” he roared back, going red in the face. “I bet you whored yourself out to Touta – to Peters, even when I was gone, don’t even try to deny it, you ungrateful BITCH! You don’t even spend time with me because of your God-forsaken job, do you even know how much worry you’re causing me? Do you?”

Tears leaked down her face as she stared at him, unable to absorb what he just said except for the single word: ungrateful. Emotions slammed into her and she started sobbing, yelling back at him and cursing him to the grave, swearing at him and hurling every insult she could think off.

Matt took one look at her tear-stricken face and blanched, feeling regret.

“Ari, wait –”

He tried to move closer, to pull her close and apologize, but all he could feel next was a slap to the face. He blinked and slowly lifted his hand numbly, touching his stinging cheek.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”

“Baby,” he tried once more, but was silenced at the sight of her walking off.

For once, Matt didn’t stop her.

He didn’t move an inch as she walked out of the house.

He didn’t move when the door slammed.

When the motorcycle zoomed away from the house was when he sunk down, clutching at his head and wondering where it all went wrong.

She rode over to a friend’s house, crying silently and parking. She stumbled off the motorcycle and went up the stairs weakly, knocking on the door of the man’s apartment and shaking from head to toe. Once the door opened, he immediately took her in at the sight of her, not daring to ask what had just happened.

In two different areas, two different things happened.

Matt listened as Matsumoto scolded him for what he did.

Ari sobbed into Touta’s shoulder as he attempted to comfort her.

The broken couple could only think of the same thing.

I’m sorry.