Today, not so much. He seemed shrunken into himself. Only a shadow of his former glorious self.

The skin on his face looked like it had been pulled tight and his lips were puckered as if he’d sucked on something sour and hadn’t liked the taste all that much.

His dark brown hair was buzzed close to his scalp, and I had a feeling if it were longer it would be all mused up from dragging his fingers through it.

When I’d first met him, he’d had silver hoops in both of his ear lobes. Then he’d switched them out for black hoops. Now he had none, since leaving the hospital he had removed them. He looked oddly naked without them in his ears.

I reached up and ran my fingertip down the crest of my right ear, lightly brushing over all the studs on the way down. I had a lot of holes in both of my ears. I imagined I would look oddly naked without all my colorful studs in my ears.

He had on a short sleeved black t-shirt that left his forearms exposed, showing off the red and orange flames that started at his wrists and slithered up both of his arms. They stood out bright against the dark clothing he always wore. His blue jeans were dark and worn at the knees. His feet were covered in black socks.

His clothes were the same, and he was the same person inside his clothing as he always was. But he seemed smaller somehow, hollow maybe.

Aside from wincing, he made no comment about the fact that I had said he looked like crap, and he moved to leave the room without responding. And without bothering to look me in the eyes.

Who was this person?

And, what exactly was his problem?

I stood to my feet in a rush and moved to the side, blocking his path and making it so he had to go through me to exit the bedroom. Either that or bodily move me.

I sucked in a sharp breath as I got a close up of his face. The circles under his eyes were so dark he looked like someone had given him two black eyes.

He did, indeed, look like crap.

“When was the last time you’ve slept?” I asked in a soft, quiet voice. He looked like he’d slept maybe three weeks ago.

“When was the last timeyou’veslept?” He shot back at me. I might have answered him if he hadn’t been staring at some point over my shoulder while speaking to me.

That was it, I had had enough of his crap.

“Why won’t you look me in the eyes, Quinton?” I snapped at him. “What’s your problem?”

He sighed heavily and rubbed his hand across the top of his head. Back and forth. Back and forth. See, I knew that if he had longer hair it would be mused from his hands being dragged through it.

“We’re not doing this right now,” he informed me.

I threw up my hands in frustration and shouted at him. “What aren’t we doing right now?”

I’ll admit, even to myself, I sounded semi-hysterical. Why did he always have to make me crazy and yell at him?

Quinton’s eyes met mine briefly before moving to my stitched-up cheek. He cleared his throat and quickly looked away.

“Have you got a problem with my face?” I asked in a quiet voice that shook with anger. When he looked at my face he’d looked to be in pain. I didn’t get it.

“What’s going on?” Julian asked from behind me. “Ariel? Why are you yelling at Quinton? Not that I mind, he needs people to yell at him more often. If you could just pick a different time to do it, though, that would be great. Perhaps when Dash isn’t recovering from multiple stab wounds. Your yelling is going to freak him out, and right now he’s so into you he’s going to come running, stab wounds be damned.”

I ignored Julian completely and focused solely on Quinton. I did, however, have a mind to the volume of my voice when I spoke next to Quinton.

I enunciated each word slowly, carefully, so he understood what I was saying, so there would be no mistaking my words. “Do. You. Have. A. Problem. With. My. Face?”

“Ariel, I think-” Julian tried to butt in but one look at my face as I glared at him from over my shoulder shut him up.

“Yeah,” Quinton gritted out between clenched teeth. “I do. I’ve got a big fucking problem with your face. Are you happy now?”

My mouth dropped open in shock, and I instantly deflated. My anger left me so suddenly, I was left standing there slack-jawed and feeling empty on the inside.

He could not be serious right now.