After party
His knuckles were bleeding on his left hand, he split them open on another young man's teeth -
"You still like to pick on the weak, motherFUCKER?"
Benjamin's voice was just harsh at first, but by the time 'motberfucker' was out of his mouth, it was a scream, the inflection gave away all of his f u r y; Benjamin was no hero, he wasn't even really a decent person, && he knew it but -
His fist connected with the boys nose again, && it cracked audibly throughout the parking lot, the sound was the only thing moving outside of himself in the icy air; As though the silence of the world around their altercation was enough to suspend the sound in mid air, to draw it out && hold it there like a rope around his NECK, still ringing, still echoing. Or maybe he was hurt, maybe the blood streaming down his temple was why he felt like his ears were still ringing -
And if he wasn't so fucking hungry, it wouldn't be healing so slowly - But Benjamin never fed where he lived, not really; He didn't like to, he was still young and territorial, not yet mature enough in his instincts to feed himself well && not compromise his secrecy. In a way though, he knew it was kind of a good thing - If the gash wasn't healing at a normal rate for humans, he would be outing himself right now.
But he fucking H A T E D the way women sounded when they screamed, he almost hated women, really -
They reminded him of the girls he grew up around, the way they were always crying, screaming, he couldn't save them either -
He hit the boy again and he went still and quiet, not dead - just unconscious.
&& That seemed to satisfy Benjamin, he was rolling off the other male && breathing through gritted teeth, panting - His eyes rose to the female he was defending, very much without her permission or even request - && it seemed he only was just registering her presence, flashing her a bloody, clearly fake smile; It had been a fight, Benjamin sometimes would let someone hit him, just to f e e l that kind of physical pain.
"Are you okay?" His voice was hoarse, still panting, but almost seeming to be feeling guilty, like a dog with it's tail between it's legs. "I - it wasn't s'posed t'go this far, but.... He put his hands on you in front of the wrong person."
&& the fact that it probably had everything to do with alcohol consumption, with the fact everyone involved was leaving half drunk, even himself -
He kept moving after he rolled off the unnamed stranger, taking his eyes off the female && staggering to his feet, one hand gently prodding at his own temple; He gritted his teeth, feeling the throbbing pain light up in his skull && groaning his displeasure in a low, rumbling voice; His voice itself seemed to always sound like a growl - aggressive even as his obvious shame dripped from every syllable.
"I only followed 'cause I heard you call for help, I don't know if this is even what you wanted-" Blue eyes met hers only for a moment, but he looked upset, possibly sad; As though his own talent for violence was hurting him. "But I'm drunk as fuck an' he was talkin' about spikin drinks, talkin' 'bout what's wrong with hittin' a girl if she hits you first, n' then y'all go outside an'- "
He shook his head, trying to shake off the awful aching of a concussion, of the cut beneath the 21 tattoo under his eye stinging. "I heard you scream, an' ain't nobody but me was goin'a come. M'sorry tha' nobody good or smart or good at talkin' came, it was just me, I'm sorry -"
@writer-reckless
