Scotty often thought he toed the perfect line between being confident and self-aware. He was well aware that his general physique could have an impact on people of all genders. As a trained boxer, it would be ridiculous to assume that people wouldn’t be attracted to the impressive, smooth lines of muscle that he had to show for himself. That being said, he was also deeply insecure as a person. He had abandonment issues by the dozen, and he often doubted his place in people’s life. Indra had always insisted he had nothing to worry about, that he’d be better off pulling himself together and stop worrying about the past and start looking to the future. It was ironic, now. She’d been holding onto the past for so long she’d ran from it and Scotty, right into the arms of her future.
Try as he might, he didn’t know how to set those feelings aside. Scotty hated feeling so weak and useless. He hated acting like a kicked puppy the moment he felt someone pulling away, but it was instinct. At this point, it was ingrained into his DNA. How could there not be something broken and wrong inside of him? A pretty girl in a club or a hot guy on a hike, those were the rejections he could handle. Strangers with no stakes in any of it. It was clean cut and simple. Friends and partners were different. Those were the people that knew him intrinsically, had seen the best and worst of him and decided they didn’t want any of it anymore.
So, as Sam snatched her hand from him and cradled it to her chest as though he was a feral dog, yapping at her wrist, snarling and baring his teeth, he couldn’t help but feel that similar sting of rejection. His stomach churned as he took a sudden step back, reflexes telling him to retreat, retreat, retreat. Scotty liked flirting with beautiful women, but he knew where to draw the line. He wouldn’t push Sam to the point of discomfort – no more than he already had, it seemed.
Sam had made her stance clear, and Scotty had misread the room. She was working, and she didn’t want to swap shifts to come see his fight. She didn’t want him touching her, not even after accepting his help, and it seemed his conversational attempts weren’t entirely welcome either.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to...” he trailed off, clearing his throat as he ducked his head low, avoiding her gaze.
A tall and hulking Scotty Carter looking timid and scolded in the face of a beautiful woman was starting to become the story of his life. Maybe that was another thing he needed to speak to his therapist about. Did he have a kink he wasn’t aware of? Was this some sort of humiliation ritual?
He didn’t allow himself too much time to mull that thought over as he heard the last of what Sam had to say, before twisting her body away from his. His heart plummeted in his chest, sinking all the way down into his stomach as a lump formed in his throat. Right, that made it abundantly clear, at least. Sam was Ivy’s roommate, sure, but he’d obviously been wrong in mistaking her for a friend. Flirting and charisma aside, whatever headway he thought he’d made in befriending Sam had all been in his head.
“Right. Yeah, okay. Shit, my bad,” Scotty murmured, visibly uncomfortable now.
He grimaced as he looked around them at the otherwise empty room, speed bags rigid as they stood untouched, paddles abandoned on the ground where their last users hadn’t put them away. He’d hoped to let off some steam today of all days, but now he wondered if it was best to just write the whole day off and leave Sam to it.
“So, do you want me to, like, stop showing up to see Ives?” Scotty asked abruptly, suddenly fixated on that final detail. Have I been making Sam uncomfortable this whole time? “I guess I kinda stupidly thought you an’ I were friends, but...”
theartofmadeline
snowghoul
blakekathryn
prguitarman
pixelskylines
vaporwave
