Page 53 of Peaceful Chaos

Stubborn

Raven

My alarm piercesthe quiet morning, ending a night of restless sleep. When Sin wasn't waking me up every few hours, nightmares wrecked the rest of the time I was able to close my eyes.

"It's not time yet," Sin grumbles in his sleep and shuts off my alarm.

I crack open one eye to see the clock. We've got heavy curtains on the windows, but there's a thin stream of light that stabs right into my eyes. Not a good sign for how the rest of the day will go, but falling behind in class isn't an option.

With a groan, I pull back the blankets to get out of bed. Before I can climb out, Sin's arm falls around my waist and pulls me against him. "Where are you going?" his voice is rough from the lack of sleep he got taking care of me all night.

I start to relax into his embrace, then remember I'm still mad at him. It's a hard feeling to maintain. Even when we first ran away from my father's house of horrors, and he was constantly trying to push me away, I found it hard to stay angry at him.

This time, though, despite my inclination to let go of my irritation, I'm holding on to it. Sin needs to start seeing me as his equal, not a responsibility if our marriage is going to last.

I wiggle out from under his arm and grab onto the headboard when a wave of dizziness hits me. Sin jumps out of bed and guides me back down.

"I'm fine," I snap and shrug his hold off.

"You're not fine. Why are you up already?"

"I've got class." I make another attempt to stand.

I badly need a shower since I never got one last night. The doctor warned us that I'd be drowsy for the next few days, but I wrongly assumed after having been unconscious for a few hours, I'd be able to stay awake long enough to clean off the remains of the explosion from my skin. I made it as far as getting undressed before I was nodding off again.

"Princess, you're covered in cuts and bruises over your entire body. You can't stand without getting dizzy, and can you even handle light or noise yet?"

I'm being stubborn. I know it, but this is yet another decision I'm not being allowed to make. Sure, it's somewhat stupid, but so is missing most of the first week of class. Getting an education is important to me, and if I have to suffer a little to make it happen, I should get to decide that.

"You're staying home today," he says, giving me that look that tells me not to argue with him. All it does is set my teeth on edge and make me want to go even more.

I glare at him. The look would probably have more impact if my eyes weren't blazing red from broken blood vessels, but he can still sense my irritation. "Don't forget you are my husband, not my guardian."

"Then stop acting like a spoiled child!" he shouts.

I flinch from the sound since the blast caused me to rupture one of my eardrums. Not only did I get to deal with the cuts, bruises, and head trauma, but I got to add a persistent ringing in my ear, temporary reduction in hearing, and nagging pain. Joy.

Steeling my spine, I roll back my shoulders and face him. "You did not just call me a child," my voice is low and even I can hear the warning laced through my tone.

"You want to go to school?" He waves his hand around, silently pointing out my physical state once again.

Inhaling deep, I try to rein in my temper. "We're beyond what I want right now. This is what I need."

"What you need is to rest," he insists.

So much for reining in my temper. "What I need is to be allowed to make decisions for myself."

"Not if those decisions put you at risk."

I growl in frustration, and I want to tell him exactly where he can shove his alpha-hole attitude. But, my temper is resting on a razor's edge as it is, and if I open my mouth I don't think I'll ever stop the string of profanity threatening to escape. Rather than say something now that I'll undoubtedly regret later, I storm off to the bathroom.

I hiss as the tepid water hits my abused flesh. Normally I'd run the temperature to rival the fires of hell, but I figure my skin could use a break. The water runs off me in dirty rivulets of gravel, drywall dust, and blood. I have to wash my hair two times before the gritty residue is free from my scalp.

One look in the mirror and I somewhat understand why he's trying to demand I stay home. There are very few spots on my body that aren't a shade of blue and purple, and that's only because those are still an angry red from my collection of cuts. In a few days those cuts will scab over, and the blue of my bruises will fade to a sickly green and yellow. In other words, I'm going to be a hot mess for the next couple weeks at least.

My usual makeup routine consists of some mascara and lip gloss, maybe a tinted moisturizer from time to time. After carefully adding concealer to the worst of the marks, I decide to call it good with my makeup.

Today I have to pull out the big guns, not that Sin is likely to forget that there's a large bruise on my cheek and tiny cuts caused by the debris from the explosion. Thankfully, the doctor told me that they were superficial wounds and would heal without scarring. At least there were no long term consequences for my vanity, but the same couldn't be said for my increasing levels of anxiety.

---