Say It Ain't So - Weezer
I can't confront you;
I never could do
That which might hurt you
To try and be cool.
"Fuck," Drake said to himself, touching his hand to his chin and feeling his fingers become wet with blood. "Fuck." He picked up the tissue he had next to him and pressed it to his face again, sighing in slight pain and severe annoyance.
Mindy hadn't meant to hit him. She really hadn't. It was all an accident that was caused from a heat of the moment argument. At this point, he couldn't even remember what they were arguing about; the only thing that was clear was the sound of the breaking plate and the look on Mindy's face after Drake's face was cut. She was yelling about something, and in anger, she threw a plate. She hadn't aimed it at Drake, but a sharp piece managed to scrape across his chin deep enough to draw blood. The pain was excruciating as it sliced through his skin, and the look in her eyes was scarily hollow and apologetic as Drake grabbed a handful of tissues and ran for the door.
He was currently driving around, not really heading anywhere. He wanted to go to Josh's, but he wasn't in the mood to explain everything that had happened. Drake was exhausted, but he wasn't ready to go home yet. He didn't want to face Mindy. He wasn't ready for her sorry eyes and sweet touch, though he knew he'd forgive her in an instant.
After driving around for another half hour, Drake headed in the direction of his house when the clock read 2:21. He was finally ready to face Mindy. He walked inside with a sigh, still bleeding a little bit and seeing a silhouette of his girlfriend sitting on the couch in the dark living room. She didn't say anything, but she walked into the kitchen where the moon was the only light. "Can I see?" she asked softly, pointing toward Drake's face.
He removed the blood-stained tissue he'd been pressing tightly to his chin to reveal the cut that was still dripping a bit.
"This is gonna sting." She wiped an alcohol pad across the cut, making Drake wince and step back. Mindy quickly placed a band-aid over the cut, tracing her finger around the outside of it.
"Thank you," Drake told her weakly, moving his face as he tried to get used to the odd feeling of the bandage.
"I'm so sorry," Mindy told him. "I never meant to do that. I was an idiot for even throwing something. There are times that I become so consumed with rage, and I turn into a huge bitch." Drake saw tears glistening in her deep eyes. "I didn't mean to hurt you." A few tears spilled down her cheeks. "I'm sorry, Drake, I'm so sorry."
Before Drake knew it, she was sobbing into his chest, and he was rubbing her back to comfort her. "Shh, baby. It's okay." Mindy looked up at him timidly, mascara in lines down her cheeks. "I know you didn't mean to do that. It's all fine. It's a little cut – so what? It'll heal."
"Are you sure? I feel horrible. I didn't mean to…"
"I know you didn't," Drake assured, kissing her head lovingly. "I know you didn't mean to do that. It's fine. It's late, anyway, so let's just go to bed. Everything will be brighter in the morning."
Mindy nodded gently, pulling away from Drake and heading toward the stairs with his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. "I love you."
"I love you, too."
"I'm sorry…just. I am so sorry."
"Next time we fight, can you promise me you won't break another plate? At least break a glass or something. We can't be down too many plates – we have people over too often," Drake joked in an attempt to make Mindy smile.
She laughed for the first time that night, wiping her nose that was still red from crying. "I'm so glad I have you, Drake."
