Best Served Cold

Leon pulled up as Owen finally decided to take his hand. He held it steady until the boy balanced himself out, then pocketed his hand.

Leon dropped his head, shaking it a bit, as though disappointed by Owen's response. Really, he just never knew when to quit. Leon had already gotten over it, but Owen was just so stubborn. He crossed his arms in front of him, a look of impatience crossing his face. He took a step back as if to size Owen up.

"Why, exactly?" Leon's methods had the occasional effect of shutting out specific memories, the kind that would make him angry. That's really what his methods were. Selective memory.

Owen watched Leon with squinted disapproving eyes. He didn't know if he had expected Leon to take him seriously, but Owen did intend the threat. The moment he had the opportunity, he would smush that jewellery into his cheek until it turned exactly the same way. Who would be laughing then?

The daydream was a pleasant distraction from reality, but a stumble interrupted his fantasies and brought him back to the horrible pains all over his body. And this, Owen saw, was yet another reason to be annoyed at Leon.

"Why?" Owen forced a chuckle as if Leon had just cracked a joke. "You're asking why?" He raised his left hand to knead his forehead as if to collect himself, inadvertently smearing it with red instead. "I'll tell you why."

His mismatched eyes levelled an accusatory glare at Leon. "Y'know, I'm kinda sick you pickin' and pokin' me since I came here. I just wanted one thing, and that was you to piss off outa my life. And then ya turn on Jami instead." He had to pause to contain himself from screaming in his face. "Yeah. You think it's funny to watch me suffer? You think it's fun pickin' on the fat kid who can't defend himself?" He gave another laugh, throwing his arms in the air. "Well yeah, I'm just about sick of that. You wanna know why? Because f*ck you, that's why." It was probably the most honest he'd been in his life.

Leon's eyebrows creased as the boy spoke. He could have easily argued it. Owen knew quite well that he'd been helping Jami. He may not have been particularly gentle about it, but what else would one expect if she was wearing gold. It wasn't worth the risk. In fact, Leon hated watching Owen suffer. It was so pathetic. It made him want to be sick. He didn't recall ever calling Owen fat.

Leon didn't see much point in arguing it though. Owen was nothing but an idiot. He tilted his head to one side, the left side of his mouth rising in a smirk. "And what? You think attacking me is going to make go away?" The smirk disappeared quickly quickly, to be replaced by a somewhat impatient expression. It was almost like he'd just realized he had somewhere to be.

"Whatever." He said begrudgingly. He bent his knees and lifted his wings, bringing them back down hard. A few flaps later he was airborne. He reached a hand to his back pocket to be sure the pendant was still there, then continued and over the cliff.

Owen's limbs trembled with the effort of bottling his anger. He hated Leon so much. He just hated him. Merely thinking about about him was enough to induce a ripple of fury within him. He didn't even need to speak before a scowl of loathing formed on his face. In fact, Owen felt wholly inclined to deny Leon's logical comeback in favour of just despising him instead.

Whatever. That one word made him twitch. But he held his tongue - the idiot was leaving now, and he wasn't about to call him back. He'd probably go off and tattle on him to Jami.

With a wobbly step, he began to make his way back towards the dorms. He'd take a cold shower to hopefully aid the searing pain on his shoulder, before sinking into his bed for what he hoped was eternity.