“I will not tolerate this rebellion bullshit any longer!” A greying man cursed in a gruff voice from where he sat on a mahogany desk chair.
“Jesus Christ dad, you know why I’m doing it. Remove the damn cause and I’ll get rid of the symptom!” A brown haired youth argued, the words not suiting the soothing voice.
“It’s a business affair, son, you must understand this.” The man stood up, meandering around the office desk in front of him towards his son.
“I don’t care if it’s a business affair. A marriage is a joining of two lovers, not a joining of two companies who will inevitably become corrupt and fall within the next century.” Bold, defined eyebrows furrowed in anger and brown eyes shimmered in the sunlight breaking through a gap in the curtains, flooding into the otherwise dark room.
“Tyler, I will not have you bad mouth my company any longer. This marriage is necessary for the survival of the company and thus the survival of you. I will lose everything and it will be blood on your hands.” Frown lines deepened and muscles tightened as Tyler turned his back on his father.
“Oh, Jonathon, the only blood on my hands will be Jenna’s if this marriage goes through.” His mouth screwed up like a small child’s when throwing a tantrum before storming out of the room, slamming the door behind his causing a gust of wind to ruffle his shirt.
“Fuck!” Tyler exclaimed once he was on the far end of the hallway, balling his hand up into a tight fist before smashing it into one of the mirrors that was hung for no apparent reason on the wall.
The sharp sting of the glass cutting into his smooth hand was almost refreshing, cutting through his anger the same as it cut through his skin. He gripped his hand tightly before taking off further down the hallway until he came to the grand staircase, drops of crimson blood touching the polished floor every few steps.
He stopped at the top of the staircase, holding onto the banister with his uninjured hand, trying to clear his head. The silence in the mansion was almost welcoming until it was shattered by the sound of the oversized front door inching open. The second he saw her come through the door he took off, hurrying down the opposite hallway towards his bedroom.
Tyler hurried inside her room, shutting the door quietly behind him, hoping not to alert her that he was here. He sat down in front of the ebony desk on the far side of the room and pulled a first-aid kit out of the bottom drawer. He began messily bandaging his hand with the bandages he found inside before he heard the click of his door opening behind him.
The brown eyed boy pretended he hadn’t heard, refusing to look in the mirror to see her stalking towards him. He flinched slightly when her hands rested on his shoulders, playing with his hair and ghosting up the back of his neck.
“Jenna, don’t touch me.” He tried to keep his voice strong but instead it shook like a baby deer’s legs taking its first steps.
“What’s wrong, prince? Getting cold feet?”
“Get the fuck out!” He screamed, standing up and turning around to face her. He wasn’t scared of her, he wouldn’t let himself be.
Jenna scoffed but still turned around and walked out of the room, calling out behind her, “Text me when you’re not pmsing!”
The second the door closed behind her Tyler grabbed his chair and shoved it against the door, along with whatever heavy objects he could find that would stop people from intruding.
He could almost feel his face turning red from anger when the tears that had sprung up in his eyes hours ago finally spilled over, flooding down his face as he finally gave up and collapsed in a heap on the carpeted floor.
He held his head in his hands and wept; he wept for everything that he’d been through these past weeks and everything he’d go through in the next one.