Not Pretty

The crack of something hitting the door echoes in my ears, whatever it was smashed to the ground and a annoying thought strays into my mind.

‘Would I have been the unfortunate door? getting hit in the head just because if his anger had I not scrambled from his sight as fast as possible',

Relief sagging my shoulders, I rest on the said door and exhale a breathe I didn’t know I was holding in.

‘To think I was eager to see him show weakness, emotion or anything to show he was not an actual block of ice and cold stares', I drag in a breath again,

The look on his face was murderous, fury rolled off him in waves and the few seconds I spent in his presence was enough for me to see the hard set of his jaw and hear the repetitive sound of his teeth grind.

To put it simply, his weakness wasn’t pretty, and apart from cold looks and icy stares the only other emotion he showed was anger, in various degrees.

Thinking about it, I could count on my fingers the number of times I had seen him smile,

T