Misdirected Anger
Character: Garrick Tavis
Type: Angst... Little fluff
Summary: Garrick's been distant. Stressed. You try to figure out why. He snaps, and distance has been created.
For almost a week, things have been off. Garrick hasn’t been in his room when I visit at night. It looks like he’s hardly been sleeping. In the morning, when he’d usually make time for us, he’s taken up to training some first years. It’s confusing. Questions keep circling my mind; Did I do something wrong? Did I say something? Did someone else say something? Is he stressed? Is he hurt? Does he not like me anymore and he just isn’t saying so? I stand anxiously, eyes trained on the door. Liam and some other cadets are sparring. Hell, Garrick hasn’t even eaten lunch. Yesterday, I brought him dinner. He wasn’t in his room. I left it there. Three days ago, during flight maneuvers, I tried to track him down. But it’s like he disappeared. He was there one second, went up into the clouds, and then the next he was gone. He evaded me somehow.
“You’re thinking too much.” Ridoc drawls. I glance over. He’s standing with sweat coated skin and ruffled brown hair. He’s staring like I’ve gone batshit crazy. “I’m not. Something is wrong and I intend to figure out what.” Because Garrick hasn’t talked with me in days. I miss him. His touch. His voice. The teasing. The moments where it seems too much for both of us. The good and bad days. My eyes flick to the door as they open. Xaden walks in, eyes narrowing on Sorrengail. Garrick stands beside him, hands fisted at his side and jaw clenched. He looks annoyed. There’s deep bags beneath his eyes, and his hair is ruffled like he’s been clawing his fingers through it every few minutes. Concern flicks in my chest. I move. It doesn’t take long to stand in front of him, and it takes less time to grab his arm so he can’t pull away like he’s been doing.
“Garrick, talk to me. I can’t help if you don’t tell me what it is.” I whisper, softly, coaxingly, trying to get him to simply talk. It’s like a switch. Air sweeps me back, slamming me into the damn wall. The breath is knocked out of me, momentarily, and my eyes blow wide. “You aren’t the biggest fucking problem right now.” He doesn’t yell, but somehow, this is worse than if he had. Because Garrick, despite years of training with each other, has never used his quirk or his fists out of anger. “I don’t need you asking every damn minute if something's wrong! If there was, I’d fucking tell you!” This time, his voice sharpens. And it’s not the voice he uses with me. Problem… He said I wasn’t the biggest problem. It’s clear that I pushed him over the edge. Tears gloss over my eyes, but I refuse to let them drop. Have I been too clingy? He’s acting like I’m nothing more than a burden. Some more weight on his shoulders. His hazel eyes switch from the dark stormy swirl of emotions to a softer, guilt ridden gaze. Perhaps I’ve been too much. Maybe he simply needs space.
I nod slowly, embarrassment and shame heating my face. It makes the need to cry all the more visible but I swallow the pain. The wall of air moves away, and I slink to the back of the class, staring at the ground to avoid his eyes and everyone else's. He just needs time… Ridoc moves forward, placing a hand on my shoulder. He bends down, trying to look at my face. The first tear falls, and his jaw clenches.
“You don’t have to be a fucking asshole.” He calls, dragging me toward his group to train. The rest of the day moved entirely too slow. His eyes were trained on mine the entire day. He needed space, and so I’m giving it. It’s the only thing I can do as I sit in my room, changing the damn runes so no one can come in and see me crying like a fucking child. So Garrick doesn’t come in and feel like there’s more weight on his shoulders. Each tear drops faster and faster. I sniffle, trying to wipe them away. The entire day, people have been whispering. The entire day, Ridoc has kept me firmly by his side.
After the runes are set, I curl into the bed and let it all out. Silent sob after silent sob. Until finally exhaustion takes over, and sleep prevails.
The next two days are hell. Not because anyone's been rude or anything, but because of the mental boundaries I’ve set in my own mind as to not push Garrick past his breaking point again. No talking first. No touching him. Give him space. Don’t even look his way unless he says something. It’s easy at first, because of the embarrassment and guilt of believing I’m just another weight on his shoulders. He’s talked to me. Hell, he sits beside me now, his eyes piercing my skin as I write down notes. He hasn’t been paying attention. At all. Not to the class, not to his friends, not to really anyone. Aside from Xaden but that’s because they have some freaky loyalty thing.
“You’re quiet.” His statement almost sounds… hesitant. As though he’s testing something. I shrug, forcing a small smile. “I’m taking notes for a class both of us should be paying attention to.” It’s a soft reminder of what this school is, and a way to show that I’m not mad at him. Because I’m not. I’m hurt. Not upset, not angry, not frustrated. Just hurt. He waits, as though expecting something else. I don’t glance his way. I simply listen.
Vito has been quiet. Not because he’s grumpy or upset but because he’s been waiting on his mate to wake up. We fly, both distracted by lovers in our life. Vito banks to the left a little too hard and quick. I haven’t been paying attention to his signals. We’re both mentally fucked right now. And I pay the price for a moment. The air rushes around me, and my stomach flies to my stomach. My dumbass fell off my dragon.
Little Flame. Vito growls, annoyed before his claws wrap around my frame and he pulls us back up. My body jolts, pain radiating. My torso will be bruised, but it’s nothing bad. It could be worse. I could be dead, at the bottom of the valley. I glance down, a shiver rolling over me.
Sorry, got distracted. I apologize softly. We move down to the ground, and he’s careful not to crush me. As soon as my feet touch the earth, a warm hand cups my face while a strong arm wraps around my waist. “What the fuck were you doing?” Garrick breathes, panic evident in his eyes as he tilts my head, searching for any wounds. I blink, thrown off by how worried he seems. I didn’t even know he was watching us.
“Um… flying.” I whisper, trying not to let the hurt well back up. I haven’t touched him in three days. Today is the first day he’s touched me, and it’s obvious he cares. Still, I do not touch him. I keep my hands firmly at my side, and offer a small, comforting smile. “It was an accident, Garrick.” It’s barely a whisper, because it’s obvious he’s seen. He blows out a breath, his jaw clenching as he searches my eyes. Nodding, he steps away and resumes his role as the section leader.
By the end of the night, I’m dead tired on my feet. Rhiannon and Violet asked for some tips of training, and after that Ridoc asked for help with dinner duty. So I helped. My room is just around the corner and I can’t fucking wait to crawl into bed. My feet come to a slow stop at the sight before me. Garrick’s fists pound into the door, his frame leaning over the door. He looks like he’s two seconds away from either crumbling or tearing the damn thing down. But he can’t. Because of the runes… The runes that I changed. He used to have full access to my room. He could enter whenever he wanted… I guess I forgot to change it back.
“Please.” He pleads, pounding on the door. His chest is rising and falling way too fast. “Garrick.” I call, tilting my head. His head whips around, his hazel eyes panicked and red-rimmed. In seconds, he’s crosses the distance to cup my face in his warm, calloused hands. “Where- Why… I couldn’t get in.” He states, his calm demeanor long gone. He looks like he’s panicking. Hardcore panicking. I offer a comforting smile, but don’t touch him.
“I had to change them the other night. I just forgot to put them back to normal.” It’s a whispered response. He searches my eyes, seemingly trying to calm himself without being able to. “I thought-” His voice is rough, low. He blinks, clenching his jaw. His eyes flick down to my hands that twitch. Because I want to comfort him. I want to wrap my arms around him and tell him that I’d never leave him, especially in such a cruel way. But his words echo through my mind, and my shoulders drop. Not the biggest problem. If something is wrong, he’ll tell me.
“Come on.” I whisper, stepping out of his arms to make it to the room. He comes in, and we settle into our usual. I sit on the bed, studying with what little energy I have left. He sits at the desk, running a hand through his hair. I don’t miss the way he glances at me. Several times. At some point, I slip into sleep.
It’s been a week since Garrick has been allowed in my room again. And every night, he comes by, looking more worried and stressed each time. It’s always so late too. I pretend not to notice, trusting what he told me. Most nights, I’m asleep and the only reason I knew he was there in the morning was one of his daggers sitting at the desk. He keeps forgetting it. Usually, I’d bring it to him. Tell him where he left it. But I haven’t.
The challenges have started back up. Imogen takes on a cadet to humble them. I watch, taking in the steps. The doors crash open. I turn, heart pounding. Whoever just walked in must have had a shit-... It’s Garrick. And he’s making his way to me.
“Tell me how to fix it.” He orders, his jaw clenched hard while his eyes desperately search mine. I reel back, brows furrowing. “Wha-”
“Tell me how to fix it. Do you want me to beg? Grovel? Do you want coffee every morning or for me to get my ass handed to me?” He asks, his voice bordering on frantic. I go to speak, but he isn’t done. “You haven’t touched me in almost two weeks. I haven’t-” His voice strains, and his hand rises to rub his chest. “You haven’t looked at me unless I’ve said something. Haven’t talked to me unless I start the conversations.” His breathing only grows faster, like he’s panicking. Genuinely panicking. “I was locked out of your room. You- Fuck, you were in the infirmary yesterday and you didn’t even tell me. Tell me how to fix it. Please.” Gods, he’s having an attack.
“I’m losing you- and I-” His voice breaks, his face twisting in grief and agony like it’s genuinely tearing him apart. “I can’t-” Everything is thrown aside. All the thoughts of being a burden, all the thoughts of being too clingy, the hurt, all of it. Because a new hurt and guilt is rising. He’s shattering in front of a room full of people who look up to and respect him. My arms wrap around his shoulders, bringing his head down. Almost immediately, his arms lock so tight around my frame that it hurts. I swallow, blinking back tears while soothingly running my fingers through his hair.
“You’re not losing me.” It’s a strong statement stated in a low, soft tone. “Do you hear me, Garrick Tavis? You are not losing me.” That’s the first order of business. His breathing is still shallow, rugged, barely helping him. He buries his head between my neck and shoulder, his breath shaking and too fast. His arms tighten.
“Baby.” I breathe softer, trying to pull back to grab his face. He doesn't give me the option. “I’m not leaving.” I whisper, rubbing his back with my other hand. “I’ll let Xaden kick my ass-” He manages, voice too strained. “I’ll take on twenty riders, I-I’ll play with your hair and-” Sushing him softly, I move back. He makes a sound, half panic, half growl. Both of my hands find his face, placing a soft, tender kiss to his lips before he pulls me back again. A kiss can stop panic attacks. I know from experience. Is this is anxiety? Well, I don’t know if it’ll work then but if this is panic, and I think it is, it should work. He leans in, his hand moving to cup the back of my head and pull me closer. He only pulls back to draw in a deep breath, his eyes searching mine.
“Hi. Welcome back to reality.” I whisper softly, teasingly, a concerned but loving smile forming. “I’m not leaving. You hear me? I was hurt by what you said. I thought I was being too much so I wanted to give you space. That’s all. Okay?” There’s guilt in his eyes, but the panick has slowly died down. Without another word, he throws me over his shoulder. I gasp.
“Garrick!” I call, gently smacking his back. He doesn’t answer. “Where are you going!?” Rhiannon calls, throwing her arms out. I was supposed to help her and Violet. I brace myself on his back, pushing up to make eye contact. I shake my head, an I-don’t-know-but-I-don’t-care look across my face. Laughing softly, I poke his back. We’re in the hall now, making our way through. He tenses when I laugh, and in seconds he moves me so I’m pinned between the wall and him, my legs wrapped around his waist.
“Do it again.” He breathes, his eyes falling down to my lips. My face scrunches in confusion, a slow smile forming. “Do what?”
“Laugh. I haven’t heard that beautiful laugh in weeks.” He swallows, and I can tell he’s still hurting, still panicking, even if it isn’t full blown now. My smile softens, a blush rising. “Garrick, I can’t just laugh on command.” It’s a soft whisper. His eyes narrow, as though offended but he shakes his head. “Later then. When we’re alone, I’m drawing that gorgeous sound out again. Even if I have to hang myself by my toes to get it.” He growls, before moving the both of us away from the wall to continue walking. My brows lift and a small, quiet laugh escapes me. His eyes immediately dart down, narrowing playfully.
“I love you.” I hum, and it’s like I shoved a full breeze of fresh air down his chest. He groans, dropping his head against mine. “Say it again.” He orders, still walking, with a quicker pace. My smile only grows. “I. Love. You.”
