Melancholy

He nods and lifts a package. “Pain killers.”

“I don’t want them.”

He stares at me, shaking his head as if not understanding.

“I’ve had an addiction, a severe one. I don’t want them.”

“You’re goin’ to be fuckin’ sore.”

“So be it.”

He tucks them into his jeans, and then he lifts his eyes to mine. I can see how tight his jaw is, and I know he’s pissed off because I’m going out with Alec.

“Are you going to make me suffer all night?” I ask, pulling my towel tighter around myself.

“Nah.”

“Is there a problem with me dating?”

“Nah.”

“Fuck, Maddox. Come on.”

He growls, and runs his fingers through his long hair. “Shit is goin’ down, and all you’re thinkin’ about is seein’ some pansy fuckin’ boy.”

I glare at him, my fingers growing tight on my towel. “Firstly, I care about the shit that’s going down, and secondly, he is not a boy.”

Maddox grunts and uncrosses his arms. “He’s a God damned boy, but you wouldn’t know, because you ain’t ever had a fuckin’ man.”

Then he turns and walks towards the door.

“Seriously? That’s it?”

He grunts.

“Maddox!”

Another grunt.

“Asshole,” I mutter.

“Brat,” he retorts, and then closes the door behind me.

Men.

~*~*~*~

2014 Santana

I wake up sobbing. The pain in my leg is intense—it burns and itches, and my head is pounding from lack of decent sleep. I move and it’s clear the bruising has started to shine through, because it feels as if someone has hit me with a sledgehammer. I try to throw my legs out of the bed, but a ragged cry leaves my throat.

God, it hurts.

My door flies open, and I look up to see a sleep-ruffled Maddox, half naked, staring over at me. He runs his hand through his messy hair, his muscles flexing and pulling as he does. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Nothing.”

He mutters a few choice words, and then growls, “What’s fuckin’ goin’ on?”

“I’m in pain,” I snap. “Can you leave?”

He walks over, dropping onto the bed beside me. “Got some good pain killers there.”

“I can’t take them,” I mutter, crossing my arms.

“You can.”

“No,” I say, turning to him. “I have a problem with addiction.”

“Santana . . .you had some in the hospital...”

“I know, but I can’t take anymore. The more I take, the harder it’ll get. Don’t make me take those,” I whisper, exhausted. “Please.”

He sighs. “You’re askin’ me to sit here and watch you suffer in pain.”

“I’ll be okay, I swear. It’ll ease.”

“Let me get somethin’ for the swelling then.”

He stands and walks out. He returns five minutes later with a bag of peas wrapped in a towel. He sits back on the bed, and points to the pillows. “Lie down.”

I do as he asks, crying out with each movement. He takes my leg, gently, and places the pack over it. Then he stuffs some pillows under it, raising it slightly. “This should help.”

“Thanks.”

He stares over at me, and a sing-song voice calls out from his room. “Maddox?”

Our eyes hold. I’m used to Maddox having women around, and I’m not in a position to argue—how can I? I am seeing someone else on the weekend, and I am asking him to be okay with that. He’s challenging me, though. Staring at me, daring me to throw a fit.

I won’t.

“You better go,” I say, my voice weaker than I’d like.

He rubs his hand over his muscled belly. “Yeah.”

He gets up and walks towards the door, looks back at me before leaving, but says nothing.

What is there to say? Really?

~*~*~*~

I stare at myself in the mirror, eyeing my short dress. It’s one Ash gave me, and I’m not sure it’s appropriate. It’s hot, sure, but I think it’s a little too hot. I frown and turn, checking out the back again. Well, the back it doesn’t have. I sigh and spin around, instead focusing on fluffing up my hair.

Alec will be here in an hour, and I’m still not sure I look right. Is he expecting a pretty dress? A sexy dress? Something casual? Will this be too much for where we’re going? I shake my head, and decide that it’s just too hard to make a choice; I’m going with it. I apply some extra lipstick and turn, walking out of my room and down the stairs.

I skid to a halt when I see Maddox in the living area. He’s not meant to be here. I know he has club business, so there’s only one reason he’s stuck around–to make sure Alec knows he’s in my life, and isn’t leaving. I glare at him as I hit the bottom step, but he’s not noticing, instead, he’s staring at my dress.

“Came home to meet this man,” he practically spits the word at me, “and you come down in that.”

“That,” I growl, “is none of your business.”

“There ain’t no way in fuckin’ hell I’m lettin’ you out in that.”

My mouth drops open, and my hands fly to my hips. “You don’t get a choice.”

His eyes meet mine, piercing and angry. “I do fuckin’ get a choice. Go and change it, or I’ll throw you over my shoulder, dump you on the bed and do it myself. You want your boyfriend to come in with me between your legs, baby?”