Blbs 5

It had all been so amazing. Baffling, even.

A strange, new feeling had begun to replace Elly's bored indifference to the world and it was Aizawa Shota, of all people, that was the one stirring things up. He had rekindled a fire inside her she thought was dead. Food suddenly tasted fresher, the air crisp and her enthusiasm for her work had tripled. More than that, she found herself thinking of him more and more. Her heart beat faster when she pictured his charcoal gray eyes. They were almost predominantly bloodshot and tired, but they had a way of lighting up when he stared at her. And the way the skin crinkled slightly around them when he was trying to hide a smile was unquestionably adorable. Elly thought that maybe, just maybe, she was falling in love.

And then he ripped her heart wide open with the accusation that she'd slept with her best friend.

And not <i>just</i> that she'd had sex with him, either, but that in some sadistic, overwhelming urge she had done it the same day they had slept together. He had the audacity to confirm his belief when he used the condom, and then he had left. Used it - used <i>her</i> -- and just ...left.

<i>He was always using you.</i>

Elly flung herself on her couch, digging her nails into a large, fluffy cushion while she pressed her face into it. She screamed herself hoarse in a fit of unbelievable grief and rage while her tail lashed madly around.

Present Mic was heading down the hall snapping his fingers and humming on a tune he'd been working on lately when he heard a horrifyingly loud crash. He jerked his head up, green eyes huge under the regular, red-rimmed glasses he was wearing. The sound had come from his friend's suite, and he immediately rushed forward. Knocking had no effect, so he whipped out his wallet and took out the keycard she had given him.

"Hey. Hey, Elly, you okay in here?" Mic stepped inside, looking around nervously. He really didn't want to catch the two of them going at it if they were, ah... busy. "I was headin' downstairs and heard a lot of noise, an' <i>whoa</i>!"

A bunch of broken picture frames, awards and the remains of a large vase lay scattered about the main room. He quickly scanned the area and saw a mop of unruly purple hair sliding off the couch.

"Shit, Els, what happened?!" He lunged forward and caught her before she fell.

"Mic?" Her voice was raspy and weak. She looked up and he saw her tear-ravaged, pale face. "M'okay. Why're you here?"

"I heard loud noises. Are you really all right?"

"Fine." Elly nodded, but he frowned as she tried to stand and couldn't, wincing and wobbling on shaky legs. She was holding one arm close, with a hand covering part of the upper half.

"Hey, kiddo, what you hidin'?" He gently turned her arm over and sucked in a huge gasp of air when he saw why she was holding her arm. There was a pattern of angry-looking, red finger prints, fresh and vivid on her pale skin from where Aizawa had gripped her. She resisted, but he checked her other arm and eventually saw the ones on her wrists as well. She started to cry quietly, then harder, holding on to him as if in desperation.

"Ai - Aizawa..."

Mic's face grew very still and he urged her back down onto the couch. "No - no, you <i>sit</i>. The bastard assaulted you. Did he rape you?"

She choked back her sobs long enough to tell him no. "We had rough sex, but I - I let him. I thought that, you know, if this was gonna be the last time I could see him, if, if..." She broke down again, and he stroked her hair until she calmed down.

"It's okay, Els. I mean, how yer feelin', <i>not</i> what he did to you."

"I got him, too, though," she muttered. "I bit the shit out of him."

"Big deal," he sniffed. "Your muscle mass is puny compared to his. I bet he's not as hurt as you are."

"I just didn't want him to leave," she whimpered. "I wanted more time. No one ever stays with me, Mikey, you know that."

"'Cept me." He flashed her his award-winning smile, but this time it didn't have the desired effect. He sighed. "Yeah, I know. But this guy was an asshole from the start. You knew that. Plus, you told me you weren't serious."

"I didn't want to be."

"So, no cops?" She shook her head and he groaned loudly. "Okay, okay. But those are nasty. Let me get you some ice packs. Maybe we can get the bruising to go down a little." He walked confidently into her kitchen and took a deep breath to center himself. "Then you'll take some ibuprofen for the pain."

"'Kay," she agreed in an odd monotone that caught his attention at once.

"Uh... I think I'll stay here tonight, huh? You sound like this hit you harder than it looks." He paused in the act of opening her freezer and added, "and it <i>looks</i> hella bad."

True to his word, he stayed with her the whole night. They sat up and he made sure to take care of Elly while she wasn't in the proper mental state to do it herself. Mic ordered dinner for them, forced her to take painkillers and kept a running supply of ice packs applied to her bruises. In addition to this he listened to her, offering what scant support he could. He knew right now his arms weren't those she wanted around her, but they were all he could offer. He fell asleep on the floor near Elly as she lay whimpering to herself on the couch.

Aizawa had just as much of a restless night. He didn't remember the drive home at all, and he only knew what happened after he got home from the bottles in the sink. He woke in a terrible mood, breath foul from drinking until he passed out, coincidentally also on his couch. He could barely be bothered to eat or brush his teeth, but he managed to get to work without causing any wrecks or getting into one himself. He considered that a plus.

"Holy <i>shit</i>!"

"Whoa, the fuck Aizawa? Ya get in a bar fight or something?"

"Those're bite marks. Can't you tell your girlfriend to calm down a little?"

Aizawa slumped into his chair at his desk. His eyes were bloodshot again, the dark circles under them deeper than ever. He had thrown his clothing together with less care than usual and not even bothered to trim the stubble on his pale features or brush his hair that lay in clumps around his shoulders.

He had been hoping his hair would hide most of them, but she'd bit his upper neck and throat, and unlike her, he didn't have a team of makeup artists to cover the marks.

Kayama was still arguing with one of the newer hires about his wounds.

"Nuh uh, the one on his cheek is a scratch."

"That could be from her, too!"

"Will you two <i>please</i> shut the hell up?" He asked in a defeated tone. "I'm about to get fired."

"Oh?"

"Aizawa! <i>Get your ass in here</i>!" The mighty bellow of their boss caused a hush to fall over the office.

"The fuck did you <i>do</i>?" Kayama whisperered.

"More like what I didn't." He shrugged and tottered unsteadily to his fate.

Sato was ensconced behind his computer in that huge chair of his, sans cigar. Aizawa blinked, not sure he was seeing things clearly. The man was grinning sourly from ear to ear as he stared at his phone.

"A'ight, yeah. I can get him, sure. He'll be there."

He waited patiently for the man to hang up and then raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

"Your ass is saved, ya lucky bastard." Out of Sato's mouth, the word came out as '<i>bahstid</i>' in an accent Aizawa still wasn't sure he could place since it jumped around most of the time.

He shook his head. "What? I just told you, I don't have anything on Cheshire -"

"You got an exclusive interview. Guy wanted you, and <i>only</i> you, yanno, so consider yourself still employed."

Aizawa sighed, mentally preparing himself for some trivial celebrity that wanted to be written up by him for the fame. "Who is it?"

"Present Mic."