Re: O'Brien and Leah
The bottle didn't break, but it thudded painfully against her leg before landing on the floor and rolling away. Leah barely acknowledged the ache in her leg, too busy shaking off the sting in her knuckles. People, namely her brother, had an unfortunate habit of overestimating her strength. She'd taken defense classes in the past, so she was confident that she wasn't a weakling. Her punches weren't nearly as brutal as they could've been. And for the sake of her fingers — which felt like they were broken, to be honest, though she knew enough to know that that wasn't the case — she was glad she hadn't hit O'Brien any harder.
The man went down, though, so maybe this time she'd actually underestimated herself. Well. It was his fault for kissing her when she hadn't invited him to. So what if she'd been standing under mistletoe? Had she given him any clue at all that she wanted him to kiss her? Alright, maybe she had. Maybe their prior conversation about sexuality and her suggestion that they head to the roof had given him the impression that something was going to happen.
Leah wasn't about to admit to that mistake. Anger lorded control over any sympathy she had for O'Brien at the moment. This wasn't her fault. It wasn't! He was the one who'd overstepped the boundaries. They weren't even friends and he'd invited himself to her mouth?
"Enjoy the rest of the party," she spat out at him, before turning and stomping off down the hall. She had no destination in mind. Just as long as she could get away from him.