Beauty and the Beast

Isabelle’s POV

I was furious. The rainstorm that had greeted us this morning had turned into a raging thunderstorm that suited my mood perfectly. It was a swirling black mass of frothing clouds and pouring rain. It was a vast emptiness and I stared up into it, oblivious to the drops of rain hitting my face, of the thunder and lightning crashing above me. The screaming in my head matched the roaring winds that tore through the trees with vicious purpose.
Gone was the pain, the devastating hurt his cold words, his biting tone had brought. And in its place was the simmering, bitter rage. I wanted to slap Ryan for being so stupid. No, not slap. Slapping is too girly, not enough meaning behind it, and it wouldn’t hurt nearly enough. No, I wanted to beat his hard head against a brick wall. I wanted to knock some sense into his thick skull. Even though that in itself would take a Herculean effort.
He stood before me, hands in his pocket, his shirt sticking to his chest, hair falling wet into his face. His blue eyes were miserable, hurt. His face was angry, defiant. The rain fell harder as we stared at each other for a few stretching moments, anger and misery swirling between us.
“You have no right—“ I started to say angrily.
“I have every right---“ He interrupted just as angrily.
“You lost the right when you treated me like that, Ryan Tier.” My voice was calm, a complete opposite to the raging storm inside of me.
His face, moments ago set in anger fell, leaving only a miserable pain that had my heart aching. “I know. Isabelle, I’m sorry.”
I had kept a shaky hold on my control all day, a very, very shaky grip. But with his sincere apology, I felt my control break into millions of pieces. With that one simple
“Don’t you dare apologize!” I screamed at him, relishing in the shock that covered his face. “Don’t you dare try and make me feel like that bad person. Don’t make me feel guilty. And don’t you DARE make me cry!” I said the last word on a sob. I was crying again. And that was seriously starting to get on my nerves. Just yesterday I prided myself on my supreme control, and here I was standing in the rain with the resident freak beast boy, skipping class, and crying about hurt feelings.
“Isabelle,” he said softly, pulling a hand out of his pocket and reaching for me. “I am sorry, you just need to listen to me---“
“Listen to you?” I spat out. Needing to move, to do something, I whirled around and stalked into the woods. I heard him move behind me, felt him behind me, but I just kept going. “Why the hell should I listen to you?”
My shoes squished in the soaking forest floor, and I looked down with detached interests at the muddy mess that once were my shoes. The storm lessened above us, the thunder quieted, and soon the only storm left was the one raging inside of me.
He was silent behind me, and I fought the urge to turn around, to see him, to look at him. I cursed my weakness as I quickly looked behind me. I met his burning gaze, and just as quickly turned my head to the front.
“Ryan, seriously. I don’t understand you. One minute you’re acting like… you actually want to be my… friend.. You’re actually being nice to me. And then the next…” I trailed off as I was assaulted by another wave of memories. I heard his sharp intake of breath, and assumed he too was remembering.
“I— Belle… I can’t—“ He floundered around, and I fought the urge to turn to him. It was safer to keep walking, to keep my mind on the mundane process of one foot in front of the other, than to keep picturing the sadness radiating out of his eyes. I forced my mind off of the insane urge to turn and hold him, to make him feel better. Why I was feeling this way towards a guy like Ryan was strange, even more stranger after what her just pulled, borderline “What-the-hell-am-I-thinking?”
“Ryan,” I flinched at the wariness in my voice, “you treated me like crap. Why should I treat you any differently?”
“Because.” His failure to expound on that simple explanation, on that one stupid word had another round of fury ripping through me.
“Because why, Ryan Tier?” I yelled at him. “Because you’re an asshole? Because you don’t care about people’s feelings? Because you think you’re so freaking better than everyone else that you can TREAT PEOPLE LIKE THAT?” I was breathing hard, and pounding the innocent ground under me, slamming my feet over and over again into the yielding dirt as if I could stomp out my anger. The forest smelled of life, of rain; but all I could focus on was the pounding headache I was getting.
“Isabelle, you aren’t listen—“ He tried to say again, his voice borderline desperate, but I cut him off.
“Why should I listen to you?” I repeated angrily as I turned to him. My turn was quick, unbalanced, and I stumbled a bit. He reached out as if to steady me, but I jerked out of reach. My glare had him pulling back his hands, and stuffing them again in his pocket.
“Because,” he said quietly as his eyes pleaded with me. “You need to understand.”
I met his stormy eyes, and felt my resolve crack. “There is nothing to understand. You’re opinion of me has already been said and comprehended—“
“No,” he shouted, stunning me into silence. “You need to understand me.”
“Ryan, what—“ I said helplessly. I felt my eyes grow wide as I watched this boy speak straight from his soul. My heart pounded, so loudly that I was surprised Ryan didn’t hear it. He held my gaze, his eyes a electric blue, and then it fell.
“I always see the worst in people,” His eyes were downcast, fixed on the ground as if looking for something, his face red with embarrassment. My breathing grew erratic as I listened to his declaration, to his words that held a vast undertone of old grief. “Because that’s what they always do to me.” I froze. And held my breath.
He raised his head, and followed suit. Neither of us breathed. Neither of us moved.
The silence was painful; it was too loud, echoing through the woods. My thoughts were bombarding me; a vicious war was going on inside me. On one side, a potent need to forgive, to accept him as he is, fought against the side violently opposing the kindness.
“Isabelle, I can’t help it.” His tone was apologetic, his eyes once again pleaded with my own. I was once again briefly struck by this surreal situation. Ryan Tier and I standing in the middle of the woods in the rain, talking about things, serious things, things that actually matter.
And it wasn’t just anger that was between us, it was something else. An underlying tone, something so foreign and unwanted I shied away from it as I would a venomous snake.
“For as long as I can remember… people have always… thought the worst in me, expected the worst… and I gave it to them… And I guess… That’s what I do to others as well… That’s what I did to you.” This Ryan was a different Ryan from yesterday. Yesterday’s Ryan would have a problem speaking to me, no on the contrary, he would probably be smarting off, pissing me and the world off by just opening his mouth. This Ryan struggled with words, with feelings. It scared me.
“When I saw him kissing you…” His hands clenched, and he followed my pointed gaze to the tight fists. Giving me a sheepish half smile, he unclenched them. “I lost it. I don’t know why, I just did. And then those things I said to you…” He trailed off as I grimaced. The pain was still there, the stupid, mysterious, unwelcome pain that this guy inflicted on me. I wrapped my arms around my stomach, as if my touch alone could ease that pain. I didn’t know why, I didn’t know how or when this happened, but the realization that his opinion mattered to me slammed into me with enough force to have me staggering back.
Jesus, I actually cared about what Ryan Tier thought of me.
Well, I guess that explains the crippling, annoying pain.
“And I know I don’t deserve for you to stay with me. I’ve been telling myself not to beg… not to throw myself on the ground… Not that I would.” He eyed the ground with obvious distaste. “All I know is, I didn’t want you to leave to go to Japan still thinking that I…” He stopped as my face twisted up with confusion?
How had Ryan found about Maurice’s proposition? And why had he just assumed that I was going to leave? And like the proverbial light bulb, something just clicked inside of me. Maurice’s face briefly flashed through my mind as he acknowledged my answer with grim acceptance. He planned this.
He saw how upset I was, and probably how upset Ryan was, and in his own, twisted, somewhat unconventional, I’d love to give him a nice kick in the goobies.
With that realization fresh in my mind, and the other that I had been quiet for almost five minutes, and that Ryan was practically twitching with dread, I
“Isabelle, you’re really killing me here.” His voice brought me out of my reverie, and as Ryan watched me in stunned silence, I did something I haven’t felt like doing since this morning. I threw myself down in the mud and laughed my ass off.