He'll Be the Death of Me, I Swear

As we walked to class, I never took my eyes off of the man I was walking with. He seemed perfectly at peace beside me, holding my arm in his as we walked. He was way more at ease than me, but I had more to think about than him: a lot more.

But he was walking at his own pace instead of mine. Most of my mind was focused on telling my legs to go faster so I didn't fall on my face. I had promised Jacob no more harm, for the day at least. And...Jacob.

I stumbled as my thoughts wandered to the tortured expression that had been on my best friend's face only a few seconds earlier.

It really sucks that his pain is my pain. It didn't work out so well for either of us.

"Do you walk enough, Danica-Marie?" he asked me, laughing musically. I grimaced at the use of such formality. I was never one for that stuff.

"I thought we discussed this. It's just Danica. Or Dani. Or Danielle. Hell, even Daniel! Just not Danica-Marie," I begged him, not fully able to focus on him and not Jacob. But Jacob was always in my thoughts.

"Daniel? Dani? Danielle?" he asked with a grimace, scanning the nicknames in his head. "I don't like any of those. I really like Danica-Marie."

"I hate Danica," I told him, laughing at my joke. Come on, that wasn't even dark humor!

"That's horrible." He didn't find it funny. He stopped walking and was staring me dead in the eyes.

"Why? I never said I liked myself," I told him, trying to walk again, but he pulled me back to him. I squirmed in his grasp.

"Why so? I don't see anything wrong with you," he told me, anger apparent even as he tried to smolder it.

"That's because all of me is wrong. Nothing sticks out: it's all one big mess." He pushed me against the wall and I winced, frightened.

"That is entirely wrong!" he growled at me, eyes boring into me. I shook violently, but he only got angrier. He pinned me to the wall with his hands on the wall on both sides of me, his body pressed to mine tightly. The same tingling sensation of his skin on mine became even greater and it was almost soothing. The bell rang and any students still wandering the halls ran to get to class, bringing my stress level back up.

"How so?" I breathed, terrified more than I had ever been in my entire life. I was even more scared than when I found out about my mother's life span.

"You are entirely wrong. Not a word you say is true. The only thing messed up about you is your horrid self image!" he hissed, getting up in my face. The blood rushed from my face as if it was as scared of him as I was.

I wished I could run like a coward, too! Oh wow, I'm yelling at my blood now. It's official: I'm insane.

"I'm sorry," I said softly. I'd try anything to make him not so frightening.

"Danica, you have no idea of anything obviously. You are so naive; so innocent; so stupid. Regardless, there is something about you..." His eyes were softening and I relaxed a little, but with his body so tight to mine it was hard to breathe. "You don't know how much you drive me crazy!" His eyes were surprised suddenly and I was caught off guard.

"Why do I make you crazy?" I asked, voice breaking. He laughed his melodic laugh again. It was light and sweet, if that makes any sense.

"Why wouldn't you? I can't get any straight answers out of you. It drives me insane! And you refuse to let someone you care about down. Even still, you would do anything for a loved one, no matter what the cost. And then to hear you say there is nothing good about you? It makes no sense at all!" I stared at him, not sure of the expression on my face, but he smiled. "Most of all, you just do. I don't know what it is, but there is something. And I want to figure it out. I need to or I just may go psycho completely!" He lifted one hand to stroke my cheek.

"And you're so fragile and delicate, yet you act as though nothing could break you. And I'm starting to think that nothing could. You're a rose, but the thorniest one I have ever seen." He smiled and put his hand back beside my head. "And I bet you could defend yourself from any danger."

"Even you?" I asked, remembering our conversation earlier that had me freaked out.

"Most likely. I bet you could get away with staring this danger in the face and not have a scratch on you."

"I don't think you're dangerous."

"You should," he breathed, his sweet breath disorienting me. I lost all thought, so I couldn't redeem myself. "Any normal person would. But then again, this is you we're talking about."

"I am no flower-picking pansy," I warned.

"I love a challenge," he purred, pressing himself to me even more. He kissed my forehead before stepping away, his body rigid, and making me slide to the ground, not being used to having to hold myself up. I looked up and over and saw why he had picked up the familiar stance.

Boy, did I wish I hadn't looked over because there was Jacob, here and ready to kill.