Disclaimer: Don't own it.
I know it turns you off when I
I get talking like a teen
I get talking like a teen
You're directing me
You're dressed up, I lose my grip, my focus
Make those eyes at me
I lose my grip, I lose my focus
On Directing- Tegan and Sara
"Alex?" He questions, his voice startling her, she drops the item in her hand and quickly closes the dresser drawer. She focuses on her breathing, tries to control the blush that she can feel rising to her cheeks, she turns around slowly and tries to smile at him.
"Hey," she says nonchalantly, trying to act casual, trying to pretend that she wasn't going through his underwear drawer. God, this isn't an episode of Room Raiders, what the hell was she thinking?
He's avoiding her gaze. She briefly wonders why, studies his body language. He's shifting uncomfortably, staring down at his feet and rubbing the back of his neck. She leans over, tries to get a better look at his face. She does eventually, finds him flushing hotly. "Huh," she says aloud, standing straight again, "You're not as cool as I thought you were."
This catches his attention and he looks up at her, cheeks still red, "What makes you think that?" He questions, forcing a false confidence in his voice.
She laughs inwardly, her lips curling upwards in a small smile, "You're blushing," she states.
His skin darkens once more and this time a small snort escapes her, she quickly covers her nose and mouth, sighing against her curled fingers, "Oh god," she mumbles into her hands.
He's smiling at her, eyes glinting mischievously, "Did you just snort?" He asks, laughing.
She closes her eyes, "Ugh, maybe," she acquiesces, "But hey, at least I wasn't the one blushing."
He frowns slightly at this and crosses his arm over his chest, "Hey, in all fairness, it's kind of embarrassing to come home and find a strange girl rifling through your undergarments."
She snorts again, this time not bothering to hide her amusement, she bends over slightly, holding her stomach as she continues to laugh uproariously, "Oh my god," she gasps, "You said undergarments, that's almost as bad as underpants."
He narrows his eyes at her, opens his mouth to say something before he snaps it shut. "Whatever," he mutters and leaves his bedroom.
She notices him leaving amongst her laughing and calms herself down before following him out of the room.
She finds him in the kitchen, washing his hands in the sink. She furrows her brows at this and walks closer, finding that the water swirling in the sink is tinged pink, "What happened?" She asks him softly, all of her previous amusement forgotten about. She places her hand gently on his shoulder but he flinches and moves away. She tries not to take offense, after all, to him, she's a stranger.
"Nothing," he mumbles, continuing his task.
She bites her bottom lip and leans her back against the counter so she can look at him, "Justin," she tries again, "Come on, tell me."
He finishes washing his hands, turns the water off and reaches for the dishtowel that hangs on the stove next to the sink. He winces when the fabric caresses his knuckles. He removes the towel after a second and she finally sees his bruised and still bleeding knuckles. She looks at his face, finds that his temple is beginning to bruise, as well as his jaw. "Justin," she says softly, reaching up to gently touch his jaw, he doesn't flinch this time, just stares her steadily, "What did you do?"
"I had to, Alex. He tried to…" he swallows thickly and lowers his voice, "He tried to hurt you. I couldn't let him just get away with it."
Her eyes begin to water and she takes a deep breath, turns away from him for a moment, not sure what to say, "Where are your band-aids?"
He sends her small smile in understanding, "In the bathroom, above the sink."
She nods, "Go sit down. I'll be right back."
She rushes to the bathroom, quickly locating his tidy first aid kit (seriously, how many people have that in their house? They always just had a box of band-aids at the loft, nothing this intense).
She seats herself next to him on the small loveseat, feels the heat coming from his body. She starts with his still bleeding knuckles; gently she grabs his wrist and rests his hand in her lap. She dabs at them with a clean cloth until the bleeding stops. Then cleans it with peroxide and apologizes when he scowls from the sting. She wraps it up and moves to his next hand.
She studies his face when she's finished, tries to find any damage greater than bruising. Satisfied with her inspection, she places everything back in the box and returns it to the bathroom.
He's staring dazedly at the TV when she reenters and startles when she sits down next to him once more.
"What happened?" She asks.
He shrugs, "I saw you at the party. I wanted to get your attention. Talk to you. Well, apologize to you."
She raises an eyebrow at this, "What for?"
He chuckles, "For being a complete and total dick the other day. I don't know why I treated you like that, said the things I said," he shrugs again; "I'm not normally like that."
She nods, "It's alright. I'm over it. Besides, I was a little more than a creeper that day. So, I'm sorry, too."
His face tenses, his lips disappearing into a thin line, "I don't know what would've happen if I had been a minute later," he laughs humorlessly, "Well, I do."
She places her hand comfortingly on his arm, rubs soft circles on his skin. Who would've thought that he would be having such a hard time with this?
"When did you realize that something wasn't right?"
"Well, I was watching you two dance. He's kind of known for being an asshole. Being a grabby asshole. But nothing seemed wrong during the first few songs. I went to get a drink and when I came back you were gone."
She doesn't remember much, barely remembers what the guy even looked like, only remembers the feel of his weight pushing her down, restraining her.
"I started to search the bedrooms, found you in the third one I checked," he stops, takes a deep breath, tries to calm himself down, she just adds more pressure to her caresses, trying to ease him. "God," he says hoarsely, "You were telling him no, trying to get away from him, but he had you pinned. To tell you the truth, I'm not sure what happened after that. I just had to get to you. I couldn't let that bastard do that to you."
She stops her movements on his arm, lowers her hand until she can intertwine their fingers. She leans her had against his shoulder, lets him know silently that she's alright. That she's there with him and that she's safe.
They sit quietly for quite a few moments. She listens to their combined breathing and the random noises of his apartment. "I should go," she breaks the silence, "My roommate is probably getting worried."
"Right," he nods, wipes at his eyes quickly, "I'll walk you to the door."
She smiles at this, it's such a small way there, but she'll let him take comfort in this. "Thank you, Justin. So much. I mean. Well, I'm not sure if words are enough," she says to him as they stand in his doorway.
He nods stiffly.
She gives him a small, sad smile. Stands on her tip-toes and gently kisses his bruised jaw, "I'll see you around, right?"
He grins at her, "Right."
"Bye, Justin."
"Later, Alex."
She makes her way down the stairs quickly, doesn't hear his door shut until she's safely at bottom.