Page 13 of Werewolf Heart

“Fucking hell!” He shouts as he stumbles out of bed.

Robert takes a quick shower, gets dressed, and practically runs out the door. However, his nose catches a whiff of warm pancakes from the kitchen counter. He comes back, smiles down on the perfectly stacked breakfast. A note is left next to them, which reads: “For the muffins. Quid pro quo and all that. ;)”

Bless you, Sara.

The young man stuffs his mouth with delicious banana pancakes and runs out the door again.

Work is work. A coworker tells him off for being late and Robert tells him to shove it since he’s the one who’s been late three times this week. He fixes people’s mistakes; and his own. Has a quick uneventful lunch. Taps at his keyboard for a few more hours, then leaves.

All Robert is thinking right now is of a long hot shower, leftover pizza, and the comforting smell of Sara’s shampoo. His head is in the clouds, so to speak. So much so he doesn’t notice the scent of cheap cigarettes till he’s five steps away from the entryway. Robert halts. There’s Tom, tapping at the flat’s buzzer over and over—

“Can’t you see this is what you do?” He asks, with a condescending tone. "You take things out of context. You build up a whole world that’s not real. I just wanted to talk to you. To fix things. And look what you made up in your own little head. A twisted fantasy about me being a stalker. You need help, Sara.”

Robert can't hear everything that Sara tells him through the intercom, but he does catch, "I wonder what your sweet little mummy will do once she realises she raised a degenerate like you."

This sets Tom off.

“You—” He sneers, like a lunatic. “You lying— You’re a lying fucking cunt—”

Robert grabs him by the collar and throws him to the ground.

“The fuck!” He shouts, limbs flapping like a child.

The young man takes a deep breath, steadies his feet; all so he doesn’t do something he’ll regret.

“Back away!” Robert says. “Go away right now before the police arrest you for stalking, you prick!”

“God, fuck you,” Tom keeps saying, over and over, as if those are the only words he knows. Rage spurts out of him. Like a broken down faucet, one too stupid to realise the situation he’s in. Tom picks himself up, and stumbles forward to throw a punch at Robert. He dodges it easily. Just a step back and Tom smacks himself against the wall. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you—”

“Leave, Tom.”

“I’ll fucking kill you!” He screams instead. “I’ll kill you and then I’ll kill that bitch!”

That same rage from last night returns. It hits Robert like a tidal wave, abrupt and intense. His body moves on his own. He sees himself from above, dragging Tom across the ground, hitting him in the mouth, in the eye—hit after hit to that pinched prickly face. The beast wants to rip his throat open. Tear flesh from bone, watch him drown in his own blood. Tom’s face is soon a mess of red and blue and it still isn’t enough. Not after what he did to Sara. Not after what he said. Robert steadies his hand for another punch when somebody pulls him away.

“Stop, Rob!” Sara shouts. “I said fucking stop!”

He stops. Quiets down. The beast retreats to whatever hidden corner of his mind and Robert finally breathes.

“Sara—”

“What the fuck, Rob!” Her whole body shakes from anger. “Jesus Christ! It looked like you were gonna kill him!”

Robert doesn’t say anything. Sara heaves.

“Fucking hell,” she turns to Tom. “You still breathing?”

“…Barely,” he rasps out on the ground. He looks awful, an ugly mess of bruises and swelling. Robert is ashamed to say he feels no guilt at the sight. “Y-You dating serial killers now?”

“Shut up till the ambulance gets here.” Sara looks back at Robert. Her brows are pinched low and her mouth is curved in an unpleasant sour way. It’s clear she’s furious at him. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“He said he was gonna kill you,” he finally whispers. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think— I’m sorry.”

“Fuck,” she snaps back. “Fucking hell, Rob. Fuck.”

Robert hears the sirens roaring two streets away.

Chapter 4

---