I want to get you guys up to chapter 29 so you'll stop being angry with me.

Part of why I'm writing/posting so much today.

PLEASE DON'T KILL ME FOR THE END OF THIS CHAPTER.

CH 25

It took me a good five minutes of wincing and groaning to get the blood off of my injured hand, revealing a nice little jagged cut. It was about an inch and a half long and probably as deep as almost a half an inch at certain points. Of course I would be lucky enough to punch the one tile that was already loose enough to pop out of the wall.

I made my way back into the main room with a less than happy look on my face, gingerly holding my right hand. Punk ushered me over and I watched his eyes grow wide, seeing the cut.

"What the hell did you do?" he asked, eyes darting up to my still messy face and back to my hand.

"Cut it." I answered shortly, gritting my teeth as he gently touched the skin around the injury, checking it out.

"Well no shit you did, I mean how." He said, glancing back up at me as he moved me to sit on the bed and grabbed a cotton swab and some antibacterial ointment.

"Uh… I… Tile fell out of the shower and I cut myself." I said, still avoiding the whole story.

He stopped as he pushed a piece of the skin back and stared up at me sternly, "You should probably get part of this stitched…" he said, very serious.

I frowned at him, knowing damn well my blood alcohol level wouldn't show up nearly as sober as I was feeling. "It'll be fine." I hissed, watching him raise an eyebrow before going back to dressing the wound.

"You know you're going to have to tell me what you did to get this eventually right?" Punk wasn't looking at me as he spoke, but placing a sheet of gauze over the cut lightly before starting to wrap it up in stretch tape.

I blinked at him, "Wasn't aware we were still that close." I said, still a bit on edge with him. It didn't help that my head wasn't COMPLETELY clear just yet. I was almost there, but there's only a certain amount of sober you can gain after that much liquor.

His head popped up to stare at me, face to face. My heart starting beating wildly in my chest and I willed it to stop before it became so loud he would hear it.

The looked he was wearing nearly ripped said heart in half. One could almost describe it as devastated. "You seriously think I meant any of that…?" he asked, voice low.

I took a deep breath, to keep my own voice from shaking with the wild beating in my chest, "How could I not?" was about all I managed to get out.

"Charlie…" He got up from his knees, where he'd been kneeling in front of me, and sat next to me on the bed. "I'm sorry…" I could see sincerity nearly dripping from his lips at the words and it made me nearly ache to hold him.

"I… I know that but… What you said…" I felt my lips tremble just at the thought and I shook my head, closing my eyes. "You can't say things like that to me. You don't know what or where I've been. You don't know anything about me." The words were almost a painful realization that I didn't know too much about him either.

Punk blinked down at me for a moment, almost perplexed, "What does that have to do with any of this?"

I frowned now, looking away, "It has everything to do with it." I told him solemnly, "And if you knew anything at all about me, you would know that." How could we have spent so much time together recently and somehow not have learned a damn thing about each other?

I watched his face contort before he placed a hand lightly on my knee. I had half a mind to jerk my leg away from him like he'd done to me earlier that evening, but thought better of it. "You're right." He sighed, "You're right, I don't know that much about you. But what I do know is that I'd like to." His words caught me off guard and I felt my mouth fall open slightly as I looked at him.

"Charlie," he grabbed for my left hand, "I know I didn't quite act on it today, but what I told you yesterday, I meant it." He laughed for a moment, "You should know me well enough to at least know that I don't get serious very often."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop the smile that slipped onto my face. "I guess you have a point…" I admitted, smiling up at him after a moment. It was really hard to stay mad at him when I was sitting this close.

"I always have a point." He grinned at me before he began to lean towards me.

My breath hitched in my throat as I let my eyes flutter closed, but what came next wasn't exactly what I had prepared myself for.

"You reek…"

I opened my eyes to see a look of mixed anger and disgust on his face. Seeing my look of confusion his bit at his lip ring angrily.

"You smell like alcohol. Reek of it, actually."

My heart sank. The look he was giving me made me want to crawl into a hole and die. I couldn't say anything. Not a word.

"What happened to not drinking anything?" He backed up on the bed, his face stony.

"Things kind of changed." Was all I could force myself to say, watching him carefully.

"What? Shit didn't go your way so you decided why not wash it down with some booze?"

I felt my nostrils flare and the familiar sting of tears in my eyes once again.

"Shit." His eyes were wide as he tried to grab for my hand again. I snatched it away from him and stood up, ignoring the rush that greeted me as I did so.

"Get out." It was all I could do to keep my voice calm.

"Charlie, I didn't mean it like that. I just lost my temper."

"I said get out." I was pointing to the door with a trembling hand.

"Charlie, please, just-"

"I said get the fuck out of my room."

The look on his face alone would have brought me out of my rage if he had commented on any other subject.

"If you'll just let me-"

I shoved him square in the shoulders with all of my might, causing him to stumble, and I ignored the sharp pain in my hand as my fists clenched instinctively.

"GET OUT!"

He stared at me and I hated him for seeing me cry. I hated him for talking about things he knew nothing about and I hated him for making me fall for him.

"Charlie…"

"Leave. Fucking leave now. FUCKING GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" My whole body was shaking with adrenaline and I watched him through a fog of emotions as he retreated out of my room through the door.

I stood there for a moment, staring after him, dumbfounded that the same occurrence had come about twice.

Still trembling, I made my way to get my phone, dialing AJ's number and waiting for her answer.

"Charlie? Hey girl, are you alright?" she answered, laughing at something someone must have said.

"A-are you and Eve back to the hotel yet?" I stumbled over my tears.

My friend grew deadly serious on the other line, "Yeah, we just pulled up downstairs."

"Is it alright if I come stay with you for the night?"

I heard whispering and Eve's voice before AJ started back over the phone, "Sure thing, we'll be right up. You can go ahead over to our room, okay?"

"K."

The call ended and I shoved all of my things messily into my bag. I grabbed a clean tank-top and made my out the door and down the hallway to my friends room.

I wasn't sure why I felt the need to stay with them, I had no plans to tell them what had happened, but for whatever reason, the thought of staying by myself tonight was just highly unappealing.