Hiten groaned as he slowly awoke, peering one eye open and wincing at the sunlight. He was on his stomach with half his face buried into the feather-filled pillow. Had he missed his alarm? No wait, today was Saturday. He was off. He felt his head begin to throb and put his face back in the pillow, hiding it. Now he remembered why he hated drinking. Then again, he only seemed to hate it the morning after, when he felt as sick and exhausted as he did now. How did he even get home?

He heard the front door open slowly and softly click shut before he eased himself to sitting position. Glancing at the clock he realized it was a little after noontime. Wasn't Abi off on Saturday, too? She wasn't beside him. He got to his feet and, holding his head, grabbed the bat in the corner of the bedroom before going into the hallway in nothing but his Spiderman boxers. He glared and stopped at the sight of his startled girlfriend, her mouth agape.

"…Abi?" He scratched the back of his neck and she sighed, putting her things on the table before dismissively shaking her head and taking the bat back to its rightful place in the corner. He lazily followed her and watched her change into sweats and a tank top. "Thought you were off?"

"I went in for a half day." She mumbled and he nodded, leaning in the doorway. She didn't tie her mop of hair back like she usually did, and her movements were all slow, dreary-like. She went to walk by him and he grabbed her wrists, trying to get a look into her eyes but unable due to her bangs.

"What's the matter?" He whispered, pecking her forehead. She shook her head to brush him away and shrugged, slipping her wrists from his grip. He pulled her to him so his chest was to hers and she remained with her head bowed. "You can tell me."

"It's nothing, Hiten." She bit her bottom lip, flinching as he stroked her hair, moving his hand to cup her cheek, and stopping when her hair no longer hid her bruised cheek from his sight. She instinctively went to pull away but was stopped by his firm grasp. She didn't have to look up to know his eyes were flaring, to know how angry he was; she already had that image burned to her memory. His grip tightened, and though she knew he didn't intend to harm her right now, he was.

"Who did it? You see that fucking bastard you used to date?" He spat and she shook her head, squirming out of his hold and quickly wiping her eyes. "Don't play games with me, Abi, I'm getting sick of him coming around." He started to put his jeans on, buttoning the waist before she gently placed her delicate hand on his shoulder. He looked over, brows knotted together, and waited for her to speak.

"It wasn't him." She whispered and he stood up straight, crossing his arms over his bare chest. She could feel his anger, he always had a temper.

"No? Then who was it?" He demande;, she watched his eyebrow twitch uneasily. She looked away and he growled in his throat, giving her all the hint she needed.

"You."