Playing Rough

Chapter X

Chapter X ─ Don't Fight It

[ M I C H A E L   G R I F F I N ]

Rage.

It was all I saw in Bryan Clay's eyes as he suddenly leapt towards me. 

The half-empty cup of water that previously rested in my hands plummeted onto the floor - just like Bry's temper had.

I wasn't sure how I was supposed to react in these kinds of situations, what triggered Bryan's sudden outburst of anger? Did I do something wrong? Did I say something wrong? Did my presence bother him that much?

"Bry, what's going on?" I consoled him, trying to overpower him and not lose my footing. Getting into a fight with Bryan Clay would not only set us back in our assignment but would also mark an end to rekindling our friendship before it had even gotten the chance to start.

My main objective was to contain this testosterone-infused, raging beast that seemed to be focused on hurting me.

Bryan growled, yes, growled, in response, disregarding my poorly executed attempt at reasoning with him. A part of me knew all of this inexplicable anger stemmed from after we pulled the plug on our friendship and that it was partially my fault.

Bryan must have developed some severe anger management issues in the time apart, hell, he was practically wearing his anger issues as his armour right now. I felt a pang of familiar guilt stabbing in my gut.

I reassessed the situation, trying to figure out my next move, Bryan had been lashing out against me, trying to punch me but I restrained him as best as I could. He looked at me like I was the prey, and he was the predator.

The ball of anger in front of me seemed to be getting even more frustrated when he realized I wouldn't budge. I might have been a couple of inches shorter than Bryan, but I was not by any means weaker than him. I decided to stop this debacle, it had gone on for way too long. 

I forced Bry's hands against his chest and saw his jaw clench, his brows furrowing in confusion, his body was tense and his muscles resembled metal.

I used his confusion to my advantage and pressed forward, pinning him into the soft cushioning of the open-area living room couch, being careful enough not to hurt him in any way. I had to show my former-best-friend that he didn't have all the control in the world, not with me. I had to show him that his anger was meaningless and unnecessary and the only way I could think of achieving that was to overpower him.