I hit the pavement and hear a sickening crack, feel my teeth digging into the skin on the inside of my cheek. I taste blood. My heart is hammering in my ears, my breath coming out in ragged gasps, as I slowly turn my head to face the damn bastard. He's laughing, looking so smug and turning to face each of his friends in turn.
"See? told you this kid couldn't take me." he bends at the waist, a smirk on his ugly face, and says smugly, "I'll just go ahead back to your apartment and take what belongs to me."
My vision seems to turn red. He can hurt me all he wants, but if he's going to threaten Ghirahim, I refuse to take that lying down. I put my hands palm-down on the parking lot ground, clenching my teeth, and push myself up, glaring at him with my one good eye (he punched the other one and it was currently swelling shut.), and spit some of the blood from my mouth at him.
"There's nothing...in my home...that belongs to you...you bastard." my lip curls in anger, and I stand slowly, my legs shaking beneath my weight, "I swear to god...if you lay one finger on him...I'll kill you..."
His friends stare at me for a moment before laughing, some of them patting him on the back as they cackle. His sneer never leaves his mouth.
"You? kill ME? I'd love to see you try, ya little brat."
I narrow my eyes, clench my fists, and take a blind swing...
and feel myself hit the pavement again, my cheek scratching against the gravel. I let out a squeak, but refuse to give in. I'm not going to allow him to hurt Ghirahim. I would die first.
I stand again, swaying slightly on my feet, spots appearing before my eyes. I blink them away as quickly as I can.
"I'm not...I'm not going to let you hurt him." I curse my voice for betraying my exhaustion. I'm just so tired.
He seems to ignore me as he turns to look at his lackeys, his smirk still there.
"Wonder if the bitch'll be any better in bed. After all he's had plenty of practice now."
I grit my teeth, the one side of my lip curled into a snarl.
"Don't you DARE say things like that about him."
He turns his attention back to me, eyes narrowed in myrth.
"I'm just stating the obvious. He's a whore."
The last three words of his sentence echo through my mind, and the edges of my vision turn red as I lunge at him, fist drawn back to throw a punch. I feel my knuckles come into contact with skin and bone, hear a crack and feel my knees hit the pavement on either side of a body. My arms seem to have a mind of their own, and I land blow after blow on his smug damn face. I'm intent on leaving permanent scars, reminders of what happens when he messes with my lover...
I feel two pairs of hands seize both my arms, jerking me backwards so that my skull cracks against the pavement once again. I grunt, spots clouding my vision as I try to focus on what's happening at this moment.
The two men who had been standing on either side of the bastard are staring at him as he lays on the ground opposite me, trying to sit up. They seem unsure of what to do - of whether he'll want to be a man and fight me himself or have them gang up on me. I'm betting on the latter, judging by the condition of his face.
He's wheezing, glaring, and his eyes are dangerous. For a brief second, I feel genuine fear for my life. I shake it off, because damn it all if I'm just going to walk away from this and let this guy torment Ghirahim for the rest of our lives.
He stands much like I had earlier, on shaking legs, his eyes still locked with mine, filled with anger and bloodlust. He spits a bit of blood onto the pavement, gritting his teeth.
"I was going to go easy on you, kid..." he begins, standing up a little straighter to assert that he was the one in charge, "but you just signed your own death warrant." he nods once in my general direction, and the two on the sides take that as the OK to strike.
They each grab an arm again, heaving me to my feet and holding me steady. My vision is still filled with white stars, and I'm getting dizzy, it's becoming hard to keep my eyes open, but I'm not giving up.
He struts toward me, that same smirk back on his face, looks me over once, and lands a blow to my stomach. I feel the air leave my lungs in a whoosh, and start gasping, my body begging for oxygen.
I feel his calloused fingers on my cheeks, and he forces my face up to look at his. I keep my gaze as hard as possible, refusing to show weakness or any slight whisper of any synonyms. He leans in close to my face, sneering.
"Why are you fighting so hard for that slut?" I spit in his face, grit my teeth, and put all my weight on my arms, pulling myself up off both feet to kick him in the chest. He grunts and stumbles, but it doesn't have quite the effect I had hoped it would. He begins to laugh, eyes glowing dangerously once again. "You've got spunk, kid. I'll give you that. It'd be refreshing if it wasn't so goddamn annoying." He punches me again, this time in the mouth, and I taste blood, along with feeling another rush of dizziness. "Face it, you can't win here. You're outnumbered, and you're just some little foreign kid who's getting in way over his head."
My chest is heaving, but I glare up at him anyway, letting my anger fuel my words.
"No matter how hard you kick me, I'll always get back up. You can beat me down and choke me and try to get rid of me, but I will always be here, always causing you trouble, as long as you're posing a threat to the person I love. You'll never be rid of me, dumbass, so you'd better get used to the 'spunk', because it's gonna come around and bite you in the ass one of these days, and you'll be sorry you underestimated me."
Something in my eyes pisses him off, I guess. He proceeds to land blow after blow on my face and chest, putting everything he has into making me bleed. When the punches finally let up, his friends drop me on my face, leaving me to inhale the smell of old cigarette butts and tar. I cough once, twice, before easing up onto my hands and knees, and then shakily to my feet, my breath coming in pained wheezes. He's got his back to me, he's walking away.
No.
I jump him again, managing to somehow throw off his center of balance enough to take him down with me, grab him by the hair and proceed to smash his face against the parking lot. My words are coming out in short, angry bursts.
"You. Will. NOT. Touch him. Ever. AGAIN."
I hear a sickening crack, and I'm sure I've broken his nose, because he screams in pain. I let up, finally, not removing my hand from his scalp or moving from his person, but at least stop bashing his face in. I'm panting, my breathing ragged, through clenched teeth. I lean down, glaring.
"Swear on your life that you'll never touch him, call him, even fucking THINK about him again, and I won't bash your skull into your brain."
My voice scares me a little. And I can tell it scares him too. He grunts in the affermative, but that's not good enough for me.
"I said swear on your life, you fucking bastard." my grip on his hair tightens slightly, but it's meant to be menacing. That's how he takes it, too.
"Fine, dammit, I fucking swear."
I nod, satisfied, and throw his face down onto the pavement once more before standing, trying to put on the illusion of a calm demeanor while my head is spinning in a thousand different directions.
"If I hear about you again, I swear to god, you won't like what happens."
I don't even know if I can fight him again. I'm not usually a violent person, and even as I walk away the knowledge that I knowingly hurt another human being is starting to weigh on me heavily, making me feel slightly sick to my stomach. I shake my head, because I know it was worth it, I know that I protected Ghirahim, I finally made good on my promise to protect him. That thought alone is probably what allows me to walk home.
I don't want Ghirahim to know what happened, but the second I walk through the door to our flat, he's there, kneeling on the couch with his hands on the back of it, his eyes wide at seeing the bruises that are already starting to show on my neck and face, the split lip and the blood in my teeth and on my clothes.
He knows I'm not violent. He probably thinks I got mugged.
"Oh my god, baby, what happened?" he's vaulted over the back of the couch and he's at my side in a split second, gently touching my face to avoid hurting me, but wanting to inspect the wounds closely.
I smile, though I know he can tell it's forced, and wave it off, trying to pretend that it's not a big deal.
"No-"
"If you say nothing I swear to god." he interrupts me, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Was it that Groose kid? Dammit all, I told you he's trouble-"
I laugh, shaking my head and resting my cheek on his chest, putting my arms around him.
"No, no, it wasn't Groose, I promise."
"Tell me what happened. Right now."
I sigh softly, pulling my face away from his shirt, trying to avoid staining it with my blood.
"I...couldn't just let him...walk all over you like that. I had to...I had to do something..."
His eyes go wide as dinner plates, and he pulls me into a fierce hug, his breathing accelerating dangerously.
"Link, you...you fought him?Are you fucking CRAZY?" he cups my face lovingly, though his words are frenzied and afraid, "he's like five times your size! You're lucky he didn't kill you!"
Through all his fussing, I manage to get out two words.
"I won."
He freezes, his hands lingering on my skin as if he doesn't believe what I've just told him. He stares at me, blinking.
"you..."
"I won." I smile at him, "I told you, I wanted to keep you safe. So I did."
"He's...he'll leave me alone?"
I nod, my smile still there, though I can feel my eyelids growing heavy. He pulls me into a gentle embrace, still treading carefully as though he believes I could be lying.
"You...you really..." I can tell he's holding back tears, hoping that they are tears of relief and not disbelief, though there seems to be a mixture of the two on his face. "Link...I can't believe you..."
"I wasn't going to let him threaten you and scare you like he was." I lower my voice to a whisper. "I love you and want to keep you safe."
He lets out a soft laugh, hugging me close to him and murmuring in my ear lovingly.
"You really are my hero, Link."