Fight
At least, thatâs what they thought.
Shane had his head rested against Roseâs shoulder, his eyes scanning over the notes taken in his quick chicken-scratch handwriting for the fifth time. Rose was reading some classic, for what Shane could only guess was for her English class. The room was quiet, but the muffled talking from the living room slowly grew louder and more heated until Rose cast a small glance at the resting man, who looked back up at her.
âWhatâs going on?â Rose mused quietly, turning her head towards the door. Shane sat up and set the notes aside, stretching. âUgh, I donât know. Something stupid, probably,â he said. âIâll go see.â
Rose nodded but didnât pick her book back up, only pulled her knees to her chest and waited for Shane to climb out of bed. He did so, walking to the door and pausing. â⌠I think theyâre arguing. God damnit.â With a final huff, he opened the door.
The scene before him was worse than he thought would be. Jackson and Zach looked ready to kill; Jacksonâs shoulders were squared and Zach was sizing him upâwhat looked like again, as blood was already beginning to dribble from Jacksonâs nose. He only saw the back of Zachâs head, but both men were most likely sporting something nasty.
If either of them noticed Shane, they didnât show it, because Zach lunged at Jackson, grabbing a fistful of his shirt collar before effectively being elbowed in the face and shoved back. He managed to land one more punchâright to the side of Jacksonâs head dangerously close to his eyeâbefore they separated again. Shane took this as an opportunity to do something completely stupid; he squirmed his way in between them, his back to Jackson and facing Zach. He felt a small swell of fear when Zach registered what heâd done and sent a deadly glare his way, but he had gotten himself into this mess and he knew he couldnât leave until someone did something.
He must have looked more physically defensive than he had originally intended because Zach didnât back down and his anger only seemed to flare. âDonât you fucking hit me, Shane,â he growled. Shane gave him an incredulous look.
âIâm not gonna hit you, but he wants to kill you, dude,â he said quickly, not really needing to point out the way Jackson was glowering behind him. Past Zach, Shane could see Rose looking out the door, waiting for something to happen. She looked like he felt.
He could see the muscles in Zachâs arms trembling and his fingers forming another fist, but he wasnât having this today. He couldnât even see what Jackson was about to do, but this was one of those moments where he trusted him not to do anything to make it worse. Without taking another second to weigh the consequences, Shane stepped forward, grabbed the back of Zachâs tank collar, and yanked him away. Zach was well-balanced, heâd give him that, but Shane managed to take him by surprise enough to get him stumbling. âGet out,â Shane demanded, his grip tightening when Zach began to thrash. âIâm not taking this, you fucking hear me?â
He could hear the bedroom door open further, so he had the confidence that Rose was making sure Jackson didnât follow. They soon reached to door, which was yanked open with no mercy. Shane walked them out into the hall where Zach finally managed to wriggle free.
âGet out of my house, Zach, Iâm not going to let you do this. Get out, go home, calm down.â While he talked, he pointed down the hall towards the exit, a dangerous edge to his voice. âDonât come back until we get things sorted out and youâre cleaned up. Iâll talk to you later.â With that, he left Zachâwho would probably have a black eye later and was most likely sporting a broken nose and other various injuriesâto find his way out of the building and home, where he hopefully followed Shaneâs advice. He closed the door behind him, trying not to slam it but failing. He walked up to Jackson, who had been seated on the couch. Jackson rubbed at his own bruised knuckles and held a wad of tissues against his mouth and nose, which was spotted with red.
âAre you mad at me, too?â he asked, indicating Rose had probably given him a shouting while Shane had done the same to Zach. Shane didnât smile or shake his head.
âYeah, I actually am. Iâm pissed.â
Jackson nodded and sighed against the palm of his hand. One eye was watery, but it didnât look like it was from emotions. It was the same one was Zach had been so close to actually punching, and the sclera was slowly getting more and more red; a burst blood vessel, probably, but it was still unnerving to look at. Shane turned his gaze from him and on to look for Rose. He soon found her in the kitchen, sitting on the counter with a glass of water in her hands.
ââŚHey.â
âHey yourself,â she said. âI heard you unleash the beast on Zach. Good on you.â
Shane smiled, then frowned about smiling. âNo, shut up. Weâre supposed to be mad, donât make me laugh.â Â
âThat doesnât mean you have to be mad at me.â The two looked away from each other after chuckling and the room went quiet again. âI donât know what weâre gonna do. I--⌠I donât think Iâve been this mad at either of them,â Rose muttered after a while. Shane sighed and leaned on the counter next to her. His hands were still shaking.
âI donât know. TheyâTheyâre not dogs, we canât, like, smack âem on the nose. Thatâd be a hell of a lot easier, though.â
Rose looked up at the ceiling and shook her head, laughing airily. âWhat are the odds that theyâre both idiots? Câmon.â She scooted off the counter and gently smacked the back of Shaneâs head before walking out the kitchen, perfectly aware that Jackson could probably hear everything they had said.
Shane rubbed at his face again and left the kitchen, stepping past the wide frame and watching the other two. Rose had pulled out her phone and was talking gently to Jackson.
âHere, let me see your eye. Does it hurt?â She let him tilt his head back so she could get a better glimpse. Her usual gentle hand didnât even hover over him, and he was left without touch as she focused her phone camera lens on his eye and took a few pictures. Not for show, but for either evidence or something else; Shane didnât say anything and didnât plan to.
âNuh-uh, not my⌠actual eye. Mâhead hurts, though.â
Rose nodded and pulled back, locking her phone again and dropping her arms to the side. âYouâll be okay. Go clean yourself up.â
Jackson didnât argue and nodded, standing up and stepping around the couch and heading for the bathroom. It was almost amusing to see a big man like him scuffling around Rose like she was radioactive. The sound of the shower soon started up and Shane looked over to see Rose frowning at her phone.
âWhat are you doing?â
âNothing.â
On the screen of her phone, she tapped out a short message underneath the picture of Jacksonâs eye sheâd taken earlierâ âLook what you didââand hit send to Zachâs contact. She turned off her phone before Shane could see what she was doing. Not that it was anything very concerning, but she didnât want to stress him more than he already was. It soon found her pockets and she rubbed at her face.
âDid you really mean it?â Shane said from off to her side. Rose looked up, unsure of what he meant. âHm?â
âWhen you said heâd be alright; did you know, or were you just⌠trying to keep him calm?â
A small laugh escaped from Rose, although it wasnât exactly bursting with humor. âWell, his eyes werenât all screwyâyou know, one pupil is bigger than the other?â She gestured to her face, holding her barely-spaced thumb and forefinger in front of one eye. âSo I donât think heâll, like, die or anything, but if his head still hurts tomorrow I might send him for a checkup or something.â
âGood plan,â Shane replied. Roseâs phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out, sliding her thumb across the lock screen to view her new message. It was Zachâs reply, only three words long but enough to make her frown;
he deserved it
She didnât bother reply.                                                                                                     Â
Jackson ended up sleeping on the couch for a few daysâsomething Rose thought was justifiedâand he didnât complain. He did go for a checkup in the end, but he was told what Rose had said before; he was fine. Drink lots of water, take some Asprin, and donât do it again. After Shane had managed to drag Zach to a similar look-over by a professional, which took more convincing than it really should have, he and Rose played matchmaker and set them in the same room and told them to either kiss and make up or fuck off because neither had the patience.
(The two ended up awkwardly patting each other and mumbling apologies after that. No more than a few days later, however, they had practically forgotten anything had happened.)






















