Fight Or Flight

Azalea. Dante was back to cold mode. That’s what I decided to call it when he turned all robotic and distant toward me, breaking demands every which way. Gym was torture, because my entire body ached from yesterday’s strenuous workouts. Not to mention the awkwardness that had formed. I regret getting up and checking up on him. I regretted it more that I finally opened up and got the response that I did. Really. What the heck was wrong with him? I knew I had issues, but this was beyond infuriating. I ground my teeth harder than I should, hissing my breath out between them as I proceeded doing my sit-ups as instructed by Dante. I had no idea how stomach muscles were going to help me run any better, but Dante claimed it had something to do with endurance and some other crap I didn’t bother to acknowledge when he explained it to me. Dominic joined us in the gym, and I didn’t miss his eyes bouncing curiously between me and Dante. Yeah, well, the air was so thick that a sword’s blade would s