[Private] Dawn of the Dead

Shit, what had I said that'd gotten up his ass so much? I frowned, looking at him wondering what his issue was and wishing I'd managed to think before I fucking spoke. I'd just been so absorbed in watching and listening as well what I'd been drawing that when he'd stopped it'd just broken my concentration. And yeah, it'd sounded amazing, so what if I'd wanted to continue listening, was that a crime? Yeah, well... so what? I scowled, mostly at myself because that was probably the shittiest response I'd ever come up with in my life. The defensive tone that even I'd been able to hear didn't help.

A defensiveness that was probably mostly borne from the idea of him seeing what I'd been doing. Which was fucking stupid because what was the worst that could happen? Being asked why I'd done it? The idea of explaining that made my stomach flip uncomfortably, even if I could just lie and say it was because he'd been right in front of me or some shit. My thoughts briefly jarred to a halt at his response to the glorified doodle, but the rest of his sentence had me holding my hand under the table. Dunno what the hell you're talking about. Oh god, shut up, shut up, shut up. I wasn't fucking fooling anyone.

I'm not hiding anything. But then he was getting up and actually moving to try and take it. I snatched the page from under the table and scooted back on my ass, pushing a couple of feet away and holding it behind my back with both hands. It's nothing, just uh, go back to playing. I glared up at him, fully prepared to lie on the damn thing if I needed to.

Don't be stupid. I frowned as I tried to reach for it. But she had it twisted up behind her back and she was scooting away. Didn't she fucking realize that would make me want to see it more? Shit she was perfectly content drawing it in front of me, she should have known I'd want to see when she was fucking done. You heard me fucking play and I wasn't a little girl about it, so stop being fucking selfish and just let me see! I took a step forward and tried to reach behind her but she tried to fucking scoot away again. So I fucking grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her closer to me, this time getting my hands around her back. Stop fucking struggling goddamnit! I grunted as she placed her palm against my jaw and tried pushing my head away, and no doubt, my body had no choice but to follow.

But, I had the paper in my hand, there was no getting out of this one. Let go or I swear to fucking god the paper is gonna get it. I didn't care if it fucking tore, I'd take my sweet ass time scotch taping that fucker back together just so I could see what the big fucking secret was. Seriously Peyton, fucking let it go I just wanna see for fucks sake. God why the fuck are you so infuriatingly difficult?! - Stop being a damn child about it!

You're the one being stupid. I moved my glare from his face to his hand, feeling like at this point maybe it wouldn't be totally out of line to just goddamn bite it so that he'd back off. Even if it was my fault it'd gotten to this point. Fuck, maybe if I'd just shown it to him when he'd asked and brushed it off instead of reacting like an idiot we wouldn't even be in this position. But I had and now it was gonna look bad no matter what so keeping it up was the only option. Fuck off, you saw the other drawing so if we're talking even stevens then go play another song damnit. Maybe you're the one being selfish. What was I even saying anymore? He made another move to get it and I made another move back, eyes widening when he grabbed my ankles and basically tried holding me in place. I bucked, trying to get free and letting out a strangled growl. Then back the hell off and I won't have to. 

Trying to push him away barely helped, if anything it just helped him and not me. Ugh, why had I even drawn the damn thing in the first place? I wouldn't have if I'd known that it'd end up just being trouble. Or was that even true? They way he'd looked... fuck, I probably wouldn't done it anyway. Maybe I don't give a damn if you mess it up! Except I did. They idea of anyone fucking with something I'd drawn irritated me, even if it was moronic. It's my fucking drawing and if I don't want to show you that's my business. I moved one hand free of the page, grabbing his wrist and pulling so he went down on the floor beside me and I could roll over, lying over the paper and both of our hands that hands that had a hold on it. If I'm being a fucking child then so are you. I glared across at him. Like he was so fucking mature, just wanting to see because I hadn't let him.

It doesn't fucking work that way. I growled, just thinking how fucking stupid this was. Yet I was so goddamned intent on seeing what was on that paper. It didn't matter that I knew this was fucking childish. All that mattered was now I had to see it just to prove a point. I didn't even fucking know what that point was! And even while I was slightly irritated at this fucking game, inside and out, I was also fucking enjoying it. Fuck I felt like a ten year old...

Fuck you and your business. You wanna get technical, fine. You drew that fucking thing on my paper, using my fucking utensils. As far as I'm fucking concerned I own that goddamned drawing, now give it over! My voice caught in my throat as my knee slipped backwards on the hardwood floors, even more when she had my wrist and sent me completely to the floor.

Here I fucking was, one arm trapped, but refusing to let go of the paper. Goddamn she was fucking strong too, and so fucking squirmy I really didn't think this would be that fucking difficult. I'd had enough of this fucking game. My eyes flared up and I just fucking yanked and the corner of the thing fucking ripped, but it didn't matter, the rest of it was in tact. I didn't waste a second, I got up to my feet and ran to the other corner of the room to grab the broom and held it out in her direction, ready to swat her fucking ass away if she tried to get closer to me. Yeah I had a cocky ass grin on my face too, and even managed a laugh of victory right before taking a look at the page.

I hated it.

I hated every fucking line.

I hated it because I didn't hate it. Yeah, it made no fucking sense. Hating something because you don't hate it was a really fucking complex feeling to explain. I didn't even say a word as my eyes scanned the page and my expression slowly went downhill. It was insanely fucking good, aside from the fact that it was a drawing of my dumb ass, it was ridiculously fucking good. But I still hated it, and I couldn't explain it. It wasn't even so much the drawing, because as I said, it was fucking good, it was more the fact that she drew me out of everything in the fucking world to choose from. All that time I was thinking about here while playing, she was drawing me, and it was fucked up.

I dropped the broom and tried to straighten out the wrinkles on the page as I took in a deep breath and exhaled out my nose. I hadn't even looked at her yet, but when I did, I passed the page to her and awkwardly scratched the back of my head. It's really good. I nodded, my expression completely genuine and honest, but also amazed. My tone wasn't much different, aside from that hint of disappointment that I couldn't seem to hide. Really good.

Why the hell did he have to be so fucking stubborn anyway? As far as he knew it was just some random sketch of, well, anything really. It could be a goddamn ashtray or a shoe or fucking doorknob so why the hell couldn't he just give up and forget about it? Yeah, only because you don't want it to work that way. Shit, why couldn't I just struggle in silence? Why'd I have to back sass with the stupidest crap possible? Probably because I wasn't even thinking straight right then, too intent on trying to get the page back before he could see it to spare a second for the words slipping out of my mouth.

Goddamnit, why did he have to pull the fucking ownership card, pointing out that he'd given me the shit to do the damn thing? I couldn't even disagree with it which was even more annoying. Yeah but you didn't ask to see the paper, you asked to see the damn drawing. I pulled at his fingers trying to pry them loose, my face scrunched up with the effort and everything but I couldn't fucking do it. Him and his stupid ass grip. You own shit so don't even try and pull that card. You gave me the paper and it's- fuck it, it's mine now so let go damn it.

There was a second, just as he slipped, when I almost wanted to laugh. Mainly because I'd actually succeeded in pulling him down. All the talking was just a distraction from what I was trying to do so I stopped, concentrating solely on his hand under me and then realized that my master plan wasn't so masterful at all. I'd trapped my own hand underneath and the other was free but couldn't do anything. I'd just managed to shoot myself in the fucking foot. Which was something he ended up proving. I was looking at him so I saw his eyes flare up and wanted to yell in frustration as he gave the page another tug, pulling it free and leaving me with a blank fucking corner of nothing.

Shit, he fucking had it. After all that he'd gotten the damn thing. I scrambled to my feet but at the back of my mind I already knew there was no point. But I still went to follow him, was even gonna try wrestle it back before he picked up a goddamn broom and started pointed it at me like it was a sword. I didn't want to look at him and see his reaction. I had an image of his lip curling and him looking at me like I was a nutcase. But I couldn't help it, my head rose again and I was watching him, watching that smug look slip right off his face and for some stupid fucking reason my heart sunk right down to my stomach and I wanted to be knocked out for the third time that night. Told you to mind your own business. I muttered under my breath.

But then he was passing it back to me and... fuck, he wasn't saying any of the shit I'd thought he would. Not even close. My eyes widened before my expression turned to one of confusion. I reached out and took it back when he passed it to me, staring down at it and almost expecting to see something else on the page. But it was still him. Really? You think it's- I stopped, clearing my throat and just... at a loss. You're fucking with me. Except his tone of voice said he wasn't and... I didn't know what to do with that. I didn't know what to do with how I felt about that. It's just a drawing. I mean, you draw what looks good. Shit, I mean- it's about what'll look good on paper and you looked good playing so- Please shut up, just please. I mean.. thanks. I tried to shrug, crossing my arms and going back to those prayers about being knocked out.