You're Flying

“Babe, is something wrong?”

With a frown, I look back at Donnie. His hands are rubbing my back soothingly, seeming to know that something is up. He always knows when something is up. It’s like he can read my mind or body movements. It’s cool, but kind of creepy at the same time.

I sigh and lean into his touch before I answer, “No…it’s nothing.”

“You know you can tell me Angel. I‘m willing to listen,” Donnie says kindly, kissing just below my ear. It sends a shiver down my spine and I can‘t help but believe him.

“Well, yeah…Dom is attacking really weird…weirder than normal.”

Donnie wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me back into him. I curl up into his arms and he asks, “What do you mean?”

“He hardly talks to me anymore! I don’t know what I did, but he’s really mad at me and I don’t know what to do.” I explain in a voice that clearly states how worked up I am.

I really have no idea what to do. I don’t know what I did to make him act the way he’s acting. It’s so strange and just…it happened out of no where. I try to think of something, anything that could have triggered the odd behavior, but nothing comes to mind.

This past month Dom has hardly been at the apartment. He goes partying even more now than before, which is enough to say something bad is going on. I‘m kind of scared that he might be…getting deeper into the scene. Is he doing drugs? Fuck, I hope not. I don‘t know what I‘d do if he is!

If he is homeand sober he glares at me, he spits cruel words my way, and I don’t know how to react. This is Dom, I can’t be cruel to him. I can’t purposely hurt himeven if he’s doing it to me. It’s Dom, the Dominique that used to always hold me, tell me how beautiful I look, and listen to me when I needed it and my brother was too stupid to understand.

I can’t be mean to him…

I’m not sure what I did to make him so angry. All I’ve ever done is watch over him and take care of him so what the hell did I do to deserve this type of treatment? He’s really pissing me off, but I can’t say anything to him without knowing exactly why he is the way he is.

Enough about that though, this is our time and I’m not going to focus on him when I’m supposed to be enjoying being with Donnie.

I look up at Donnie and kiss just below his jaw. This brings a smile to his face and I ask, “Can we watch a movie?”

“Anything you want,” he answers and soon we’re cuddling on the couch watching a movie. I sigh in relief and a smile makes it way on my face. Finally, I get to relax and stop thinking about Dom and his attitude problem.

~

“Sweetie’s, I’m home!”

“Hey!” Quince shouts happily and I move into the living room to see him and Dom. Although I can feel his dark glare on me I smile kindly. Maybe he’s just…having a hard time at work? Annoying girls, maybe?

“Hi Dom.” I get a snort in response.

This brings a frown to my face and I feel something in my chest sting. It feels as if someone or something is tugging at my ribcage, begging to break out. I push that thought away though and quickly go about my business, getting the laundry, cleaning the house, and cooking dinner.

Dom and Quince are hanging out back in one of their rooms. I can hear their occasional laughter or loud voices. I can hear them joking, which makes me realize…Dom is still acting the same towards Quince…so why is he acting differently towards me?

Is he mad at just me? Did I say something? Does he hate me?

That thought alone stalls me for a good twenty minutes. I can feel my body shaking, palms sweating, legs becoming wobbly and I have to sit down.

No…he can’t hate me. He just can’t! I…

I shake my head, dispersing those thoughts entirely. I don’t want to think about that. I don’t want to think about losing Dom.

~

I don’t know why I did it, but I made a special dinner. I brought over my home made vegetable soup and buns. I know that Dom loves this, he used to always beg me to make it, but I’m too lazy and always said no, but…I guess you could say I want to try and make him feel better.

“Dinner’s done!” I call and the two of them make their way into the kitchen. They are arguing over something I’m not paying attention to as I pour soup into their bowls before sliding them in front of them.

They both stare at it in shock. Quince blinks and asks, “Oh, so this is why dinner took so long? Sweet, it was so worth the wait!”

Quince began stuffing his face with spoonful after spoonful, while Dom sat there, staring at it like it’s the most amazing thing in the world. I sit in front of him and slowly stir my own and wait for him to say something, anything. But when he doesn’t I ask, “Is there…something wrong?”

He finally looks up at me and for once in the past month it isn’t a glare. I’m not sure what it is, a mixture of emotions are crossing his face and swimming in his eyes. Too many for me to pin point which one is more prominent.

He looks away though, uses his hair to hide his face, and I expect him to say something like ‘thank you’, but instead my plan comes back to bite me in the ass. “It’s none of your damn business. Stop trying to but into everything, you’re fucking annoying.”

His hand makes contact with the bowl, sending it flying across the room to shatter against the wall. I flinch at the sound it makes clattering against the floor. A lump forms in my throat and with tears in my eyes I look up at Dom who shouts possibly the most hurtful words ever said to me, “Clean it up, it’s the only thing you’re useful for!”

Something inside me snaps and I don’t know what Quince had to say after that, because before he had time to react I had ran out the door with tears streaming down my cheeks.

What did I do wrong?