Post by Skinner Jones on Jun 13, 2008 11:39:26 GMT -5
December 30th, Erik and Skinner's Apartment, Sydney Australia
It had been 3 months since their engagement was announced. 3 months and a bruise for each month. This month, Erik was going for two instead. She knew it. Skinner walked into their bedroom, after having fixed his favorite meal in hopes for him to like it and put him in a better mood. She walked over and sat beside him, leaning slightly on him.
"Don't touch me," he growled. Skinner obeyed, but looked at him, biting her tongue back.
"Why?" she finally uttered. She felt the slap, the stinging pain right across her right cheek. She felt her eyes tear, but more in hatred and anger than pain. He leapt from the bed, and stared at her as if she was a leech.
"When were you going to tell me that my client cancelled?" he asked roughly. And she had forgotten. But a slap for it? She'd take a message from one of his clients from the personal fitness center and had meant to call but gotten tied up in her classes.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, hanging her head. She felt the hand make contact with her again and she held back the angry tears. Bruise number two. [/i]
It had been 3 months since their engagement was announced. 3 months and a bruise for each month. This month, Erik was going for two instead. She knew it. Skinner walked into their bedroom, after having fixed his favorite meal in hopes for him to like it and put him in a better mood. She walked over and sat beside him, leaning slightly on him.
"Don't touch me," he growled. Skinner obeyed, but looked at him, biting her tongue back.
"Why?" she finally uttered. She felt the slap, the stinging pain right across her right cheek. She felt her eyes tear, but more in hatred and anger than pain. He leapt from the bed, and stared at her as if she was a leech.
"When were you going to tell me that my client cancelled?" he asked roughly. And she had forgotten. But a slap for it? She'd take a message from one of his clients from the personal fitness center and had meant to call but gotten tied up in her classes.
"I'm sorry," she said softly, hanging her head. She felt the hand make contact with her again and she held back the angry tears. Bruise number two. [/i]
