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CHAPTER 27
Now please be advised, dear reader, that I am not an advocate for fighting.
There have been countless times where I have walked away from an altercation peaceably. The reasoning for that, is not only because I don't like fighting. But because I can't fight to save my life.
Wind-milling? That's as close to a fight as I'll go.
Still, it's obvious Sebastian is a clear supporter of throwing punches, because he's letting Skinner have it. Bad. Skinner can't even get up and defend himself at first, Sebastian is punching so hard. But eventually Skinner shoves Sebastian off and proceeds to climb on top of him and ring his hands around his neck, Skinner's blood dripping onto Sebastian's shirt.
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**I step aside and invite Sebastian into my hotel room. My fingers tap nervously against the ivory wood of the door, and my eyes flicker back and forth from him to the rest of the room as he pushes himself off from the door frame to let himself inside. The only sound comes from the rain outside. I close the door gently, "If I knew you'd be coming by I would have cleaned up a bit," I admit shyly. "What is there to clean?" he replies, scooting the desk chair in. I chuckle, "Yes, I guess you're right." He makes his way to my bed and sits down comfortably on the edge, the complete opposite of what I'm feeling right now. I try to study his face without being too invasive--he's calm, content, but a little eager.
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