"You're wrong"
The three words that left my mouth were hot like a burning flame. The intonation of my voice was dripping with venom, like the fangs of a cobra.
I looked into his eyes. They were like a cold winter's night; frigid and far away. They used to scare me; now they angered me.
"You're wrong"
I repeated the words. With more force and conviction. Still, he seemed unmoved, compelled by the idea that HE was right.
My mouth formed an angry sneer. My eyebrows, however, remained the same. The anger in my eyes was a burning inferno.
Then, I assumed a calm and detached position. My face was a mask; a war helmet protecting the soldier from blows. He could not read me. My eyes went from a burning sun to absolute zero.
My usually warm brown eyes were now cold and dark; the ninth level, the end of the inferno. If only looks could kill, he'd had suffered the most painful of tortures; worse than choosing which of your child will live and which will die.
My hands were not curled into fists, nor were they clasping my face from frustration. They were hanging on my sides; however I could feel the blood coursing through my veins. My fingers twitched and itched.
"You. Are. Wrong" I repeated, voice icy cold and sharp as a blade. My normal teen voice replaced with a gruff, deep baritone voice. It was a voice I had only used once in my life; now. That voice scared me, but not him, no. He didn't care, I could have been the vilest of demons, he did not care; he was right.
His face was neither amused nor annoyed. It remained stoic, as though he was sleeping with opened eyes. His light breathing annoyed me.
HOW? HOW CAN HE REMAIN SO CALM?! I thought, seething. I am, literally, the scariest "human being" on Earth right now! By now, the tense air around us had dropped several degrees; it felt freezing. Like being slapped in the face with hail.
"You are wrong, accept it, DAMN IT! Stop. Wasting. My. Time."
Mild surprised flashed across his eyes, there for a mere nanosecond. I could hear my own heartbeat, now. My eyes must have turned blue from all the ice they were shooting at him. Had anybody looked at us, they'd think we would be having a staring contest. Had that person payed attention, they'd have notice my eyes, my unusually tight jaw, my veins popping out in my arms, and... my incredibly calm breathing.
That was unnerving: I was past the point of killing him with a simple look, yet I looked and sounded psychopathically calm. I could feel, though, he was not relenting. I pushed onwards: "You're wrong"
I turned around, took two or three step, and continued: "Stop. Wasting. My. Damn. Time."
I kept on walking, three or four steps, I was at the corner and I heard it: "No. I'm right"
Damn it all to hell, I thought.