Absently, Terry wondered how his mother would react if she saw the way he was behaving right now. Marlene Sparrow was, in Terry’s opinion, the best woman in the world, who still managed to run a household and take care of her 21-year-old son while dealing with the fact that she was permanently wheelchair bound. Her disability was something that Terry had thought they’d need to make allowances for when the doctors told them that Marlene would never walk again, and the blonde boy had cried enough tears for both of them until his mother had kindly but firmly scuffed the back of his head and told him that all they needed to do was make slight alterations to their life. The Sparrows took up residence in a tiny bungalow and his mother took herself out of field work in the police force and took on a receptionist job instead. It was no wonder that Terry idolised his mother, and the fear of disappointing her was one that was all too real.
Being rude to his elders was something his mother wouldn’t be best pleased at him for, but he hoped she would understand that this current situation called for it. Izzy’s dad was being a downright jerk, and Terry thought he was justified in his words. He stood tall, almost as tall as the man sneering down at him and remained rigid as his friend’s father stomped off and tore out of the driveway in a car Terry couldn’t afford even in his wildest dreams.
It was only when the vehicle had sped down the road and out of sight that Terry allowed his whole frame to wilt and he let out a sigh of relief. His hand still stung and throbbed, but the cut was the least of his worries right now.
He turned to Isabella, wondering if maybe he was in for some sort of speech about he didn’t need to step in and talk for her when she was more than capable of handling herself. He’d agree, because Terry tended to blindly agree to everything that Isabella said, but he would also bravely argue that the scenario had called for his own input as well. After all, Izzy’s dad hadn’t just gone in on her, but he’d taken a few jibes at Terry himself. Still, truth be told, it was the older man’s comments and threatening nature towards his own daughter that had given Terry the courage to speak up. It’s not like he wasn’t used to people talking badly about him. Peter made it a personal mission to verbally abuse him on a daily basis whenever he thought that Terry was getting too close to Izzy. The football captain would probably go through him if he saw him now.
But no scolding came from Izzy. Instead, the tiny blonde launched herself at Terry in a hug and Terry was instantly glad that he wasn’t holding a milk bottle at that moment as that would surely just result in another spillage and more broken shards of glass.
“Huh?” he had to ask, thoroughly confused about what was happening. He wrapped his arms around Isabella’s tiny frame to support her, until it eventually dawned on him that the girl was grateful for what he’d done. The blush that flooded his face was all too real and it only brightened his features even more when he felt Izzy’s lips press his jaw. The kiss was light and brief and meant nothing compared to the kisses that Isabella had given other boys, but Terry thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest nevertheless.
“Wh-what was that for?” he asked, then winced when he realised that sounded like he was fishing for compliments. He balked at Izzy’s words and, though a little bit bolstered by what she was saying, he still stared at her like she was crazy.
“Sexy?” he echoed incredulously. “Are you kidding? I just… I just blackmailed your dad. I was super freaking rude, oh my gosh, this is not good at all. I don’t talk badly to people’s dads!”
He eyed her carefully. “You’re not mad, right? I mean, of course you’re not mad, he was being really shitty to you but… still, I don’t blackmail people!”
His hands shook a little as all of his previous adrenaline left him and he winced as pain seeped back into his broken hand. Eyes darting warily around the front courtyard of Izzy’s house, Terry eventually went cross-eyed as he attempted to sneak a peek at his forehead, half-expecting to see a red dot of light there, aimed by a sniper hiding in the shrubbery. “Your dad doesn’t know like, hit men, does he?”
It didn’t seem like such a ridiculous question until it left his mouth. But didn’t rich people know like, everyone?
If Isabella hadn't already been, like, weirdly turned on by Terry's sudden show of chivalry, then she'd have easily been endeared by the soft, sweet way he'd crinkled his features at her, staring on in confusion as she wrapped him in her embrace. Followed by the light blush that coloured his cheeks, she couldn't help but poke her tongue out between her teeth, eyeing him a little thirstily as she caught his gaze. Well fuck, he was cute, wasn't he? She'd always thought he was kind of cute in that adorable, puppy-dog way, and it was no secret that he had a little crush on her; but honestly, who didn't? But now, she was starting to pick up on the way that his muscles rippled through his clothes, much more subtle than someone like JP, or the way the pink tinge to his cheeks only brought attention to the blue of his eyes. And, on top of all of that, the way he'd burst into action? He'd no longer been the shy, gently spoken boy she'd grown used to, but a knight in shining armour – and all for her.
“That was for being my hero,” she told him, accenting her words with another light peck on his cheek.
Twirling around and away from him, she hopped up onto her tiptoes and craned her neck, searching the vicinity to make sure there were no nosey nobodies sticking their oar in where it wasn't wanted. Yeah, sure, the neighbours tended to get a good eyeful and earful whenever Isabella came stumbling home at all hours of the morning with a mouthy Peter attached at the hip, already fumbling with the buckle of his belt, or, much like today, one of the many instances in which her father tried hurriedly disposing of one of his one night stands. This was different, though. Daddy was gone, and now that just left Izzy and Terry. She didn't want Terry being subjected to the whispers and the rumours that her neighbours were so often prone to.
“Don't worry about it, baby boy,” she called out, shaking her head, her back still to him. She didn't want him fretting over her father, either. Her father was a coward; he'd be fuming at the mouth about the way Terry had approached him, but he only ever blackmailed and hit girls. He saw them as weaker, so Terry was in the clear.
As he continued to fret and flounder over his supposed predicament, Isabella grew tired. She didn't want him freaking out on her, and she definitely didn't want her asshole neighbours getting the wrong idea. Spinning around to face him once more, Isabella closed in on Terry and, without any prior warning, pressed her forefinger to his lips in a shushing motion.
“Shhh, gorgeous. It's going to be fine, I assure you,” she insisted, a sickly sweet smile lifting the corners of her lips.
After a moment's pause, when she was certain he'd calmed down, she pulled her hand away once more, and instead slid her palm into his free, uninjured hand. Interlocking their fingers and pulling him into her side, she quickly leaned forward so as to butt their foreheads together gently. Giggling momentarily as her nose tickled his, she smiled at him, dropping her tone to a whisper. “Daddy won't lay a finger on you, baby. He's been blackmailed so often I doubt he'll even remember you name come lunchtime.”
With that, she gave his hand a swift and gentle tug, and began leading him towards the front door of her house; completely abandoning his remaining bottles of milk where they were, and instead hopping up the stoop that lead to the mansion she'd grown up in.
“Daddy doesn't know hit men, baby bird. He knows hot men, but not hit men,” Isabella declared, absently. As she flounced her way up the steps, the cool air sending a chill up the back of her skirt, she sneaked a glance over her shoulder to look at him. “Let's get you inside, okay? The sooner we wash up that hand of yours, the sooner I can kiss it all better.”
Turning her gaze back towards her hall, she caught Ophelia's eye, who was watching her curiously. Shooting her friend a wink, she smirked to herself as she ushered the girl away, not wanting to completely intimidate Terry after everything that had just happened. Besides, she wanted to be alone with him for a little while.
“You know, if you're lucky, I might have a sexy nurse's outfit hiding away from somewhere. It's a couple years old, though, so it might be a little tight in some places...”
yousharknotpass
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annaxmalina
