The first punch was solid.

The crown of lavender bucked back from the blow and blood immediately sprang forth, gushing from both nostrils and sending the girl into a pratfall. Her black nails came upward, hoping to catch the blood that poured from her grimace but only in vain. It flowed down her mouth and chin, collecting around the opening of her blouse. The infliction had issued a strangled yelp of surprise.

Though her countenance was now a mixture of blood and tears, she gathered back to her feet and swallowed a sob. With the back of her hand, she wiped away the blood and gave a collected scowl. Her composure waned slightly, giving her away by a trembling lip.

For a brief moment, Esmeralda considered reconciling their misunderstanding but she found herself more irritated than forgiving. She didn't want to be here. She wanted to be with Claude, or the very least, back at the dorms, not here in some stranger's house, getting accosted the moment she walked through the front door.

Along the side of Esmeralda's face, the scratches continued to burn, keeping the anger within pace of her rapidly beating heart. People were cheering, encouraging this primitive behaviour with catcalls and howls, clapping and jutting fists into the air. How did she become so acclimated to this setting? What about all this did she find fun? Notre Dame was a vast campus with thousands of students and faculty. She could go to the same party every weekend and fail to see a familiar face. But it wasn't their familiar faces to be remembered this night, but hers. No doubt this would spread like a wildfire fire scorching across parched plains.

And here was this girl reprimanding her and attempting overt humiliation on an follied assumption. It'd been well passed a year since Esmeralda had been with another man. That being her ex whom she loathed with the deepest rue down to the marrow of her bones, but that was neither here nor there. Unless this girl was speaking of Claude Frollo, who didn't own a truck, they had no direct correlation.

The girl was readying herself as the blood continued to slip over her lips. She looked deranged and utterly inebriated with flushed cheeks and glistening eyes. Which, in turn, made Esmeralda cringe in wonder; did she ever look this asinine? Surely if she had Nadia would bring this to clarity so she could swindle the last remnants of her dignity and be on her way. Where was this girl's Nadia? And what was the ruckus transpiring in the back of the house? There, a moment of distraction.

One by one heads began to turn as a shouting was heard. It surpassed the deafening music and tapered the chants into an uncomfortable and shameful murmur. She heard the man before she saw him as he shoved his way towards the front of the brawl where Esmeralda and the pixie confronted one another.

It was during this time, she was accosted again.

Blinded, Esmeralda felt the impact hit her side and together, they fell to the floor in a struggling heap. The rowdiness of the crowded returned like a clamoring detonation. Flashes of light filled the interior of the home as more phones were produced and the chanting returned like a chorus of havoc.

Esmeralda was now at a disadvantage. She was on her back with the girl straddling her torso as they struggled. The pixie's hands were swinging wildly, open-palmed and batting Esmeralda at the chest and upward towards her head. Esmeralda had her arms up, blocking majority of the strikes but alas, some managed to slip passed the guard and make contact with her head. Her ear was cuffed hard enough that a tone began to ring in her ear.

Then the weight was gone and Esmeralda opened her eyes as Nadia pulled the girl from on top of her by the hair. The girl fell back ineptly as Esmeralda attempted to get to her feet when a second pair of arms picked her up off the floor entirely. When the floor disappeared from beneath her and the world pivoted at an unnatural axis, she was tossed over a shoulder and escorted away, leaving the fuss as Nadia and Remy dragged the drunk from the foyer out into the front yard.

Beside herself, and bemused at the sudden and unwarranted confiscation, Esmeralda began to thrash within the hold. Her shouting came as obscenities and harsh remarks at the culprit who currently taxiied her towards the back of the house. She kicked and bucked, digging her nails into his thick shoulders but he only held tighter as they retreated from the foyer. The many faces watched as she was carted away until they turned a corner and entered into a bathroom. The door slammed and she was placed carefully onto her feet.

As soon as she touched down, she turned and shoved the man back with enough force he stumbled into the closed door. She meant to push him out of the way and make a speedy exit, but his back knocked against the frame emitting a rattling issue as the door vibrated along its threshold.

"Hey!" he exclaimed, catching her by the shoulders. He steered her away and for the first time since she was picked up and relocated, she noticed the blonde tresses and the tuft of hair about his chin. Out of sheer defiance, she jerked out of his hold and stepped back. Her nerves were frayed, making her heart hammer against her ribcage and her breathing quick and shallow. The welts across her face hadn't lost their perpetual sting. She knew they were there, glaring at probing eyes, and reigniting the anger she so desperately wished to placate.

"Hey," he said again, more softly. "Are you alright? Let me take a look at you."

He came forward with extended arms but she dismissed his intentions by stepping back again until her legs met the porcelain boundaries of a bathtub.

"No, I'm fine." Esmeralda mumbled, tentatively touching the raised marks across her face with her fingertips.

"Are you sure?" He leaned to the side to gain a better view for inspection and settled with a shake of his head. "At least let me clean it and you can be on your way. I'm really sorry about that. She's not my friend, I don't know who she is, really…"

Esmeralda rose her hands, gesturing him to stop explaining. It mattered not how or when, or who the girl was. All she could think about was how she wished she had said no to it all.

"I'm very, very sorry." she heard him say. He was a broken record. He was also standing in the way of the door and this irritated her.

"It's fine." she told him, her voice like flint. "I just need to get out of here and call a cab. This was stupid coming out on a Sunday night."

When she glanced up at him she found him with a tilted and rather curious countenance. Their eyes met and he held them there, allowing his cobalt pools to roam her face. She cringed, insecurely, being hyper-aware of the rows of scratches that lined her face.

"What's your name?" he asked, gently. He reached over a sink on his right and opened a medicine cabinet disguised as a mirror.

"Esmeralda," she grumbled.

He smiled, "I'm Phoebus." He plucked a small white bottle with an orange cap from the shelves.

She wanted to admit her prior knowledge, instead she settled on a nod and said, "Pleasure to meet you. I should be going."

For the second time since their newly obtained acquaintance, Esmeralda made another attempt for the door. But Phoebus was having none of that.

He dropped back against the door, much like his stumble from earlier and jutted a finger at her. "Not before I clean it, understand? Promise me?"

She crossed her arms and glared.

"Promise me." he said, more definitively.

A muscle in Esmeralda's jaw ticked and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she grumbled.

Feeble Doofus!

Also, quick question. How long is too long for a chapter? What's a short chapter to you guys and what's too long? I try getting out at least a thousand words before submitting the chapter, but if you want, say, 2000-3000, I can do that as well. I don't want to starve you guys with words if the chapters are too short! BUT JUST KNOW..MORE WORDS MEAN EVEN DEADLIER CLIFFHANGERS.

I do it because I love you.