[Original] The Fight: Drabble

Usagi and Kitsune.
The Fight:
By, Black-Haired Girl

August 11, 2011

OC Characters: Usagi, Kitsune


“You’re insane! You’re really crazy, you know that?”

Usagi felt his shoulders tense. He bit his lower lip and resisted the urge to snarl angrily up the stairs at the man who had once upon a time, as of yesterday, had been his lover. He felt hate flickering hot and volatile in his chest, stirring up every repressed emotion he had ever held for that bastard over the past two years. It was coming. It was all about to come out, here on the stairs of the apartment complex. He could hear people murmuring at the bottom of the stairwell, obviously concerned at the slamming of doors and the heated screams that had been coming from the top level for the past twenty minutes.

Usagi knew he should leave. He knew that yelling wasn’t going to fix anything. It wasn’t going to make him feel better. It wasn’t going to make that fucker take back what he did, or change anything what had happened the night before.

It was over. Finally, it was over, and yet he still wasn’t satisfied. He clenched his hands into fists and yelled up the stairs; hearing his own heartbroken and choked voice echoing back at him like a slap in the face. “I hate you! I never want to see you again!”

“You’ll be back,” sneered the confident voice on the top landing. “You always come back.”

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Part of him wanted to scale the steps and punch that fucker in the face, but the voices on the landing below were growing in intensity. He heard someone whisper something about the police. He knew he had to leave. Of course, he would be the one to leave, as usual.

He spun around on his heels and stormed down the steps, nearly tripping over his own feet as his mind ran out before his body could keep up. A few of the neighbors from the first floor were gathered around the mailroom, staring at him as he stalked through the lobby and out the front door.

He didn’t care what they thought. He didn’t care about anything.

He stormed down the street with his hands fisted so tightly he could feel the burn of the inevitable bruises forming on his palms. He had to find something to hit, or kick, or generally destroy. He had to let this out. It wasn’t fair that he had to leave his own apartment because that prick had pissed him off. It wasn’t fair that he was the one out on the street while that asshole sat comfortably on their couch. He would bet anything that once he left the building that asshole had called him.

If that was what he wanted, then fine. Usagi couldn’t make him stay in love with him, and not run out and fuck every other asshole he could get his hands on. He couldn’t change the fact that for the past two years he had been wholly invested in a man who didn’t love him enough not to cheat on him. He couldn’t help that. It had just happened, hadn’t it?

But it hadn’t. He knew that he had chosen his fate. He had been suspicious of his lover for a while. He wouldn’t call him after work like he used to. He didn’t want to be seen in public with him anymore, and often just opted to stay in and watch movies and generally ignore him. He had seen suspicious phone calls on the caller ID. The other man wouldn’t let Usagi use his phone. He had been up to something, but Usagi hadn’t wanted to believe it. He didn’t want to think that someone would lie to him, especially the man he thought he loved.

He spat on the sidewalk and stopped at a crosswalk, glaring angrily up at the blaring red light that blocked his path. Cars whirred past quickly, trying to make it through the intersection before the light changed. All around him were people calmly making their way to their destinations, unaware of the anguish and frustration he possessed.