Marietta gave him a look that generally meant that everything wasn’t okay. Sometimes this was followed by yelling and sometimes she’d go away and sob until she fell asleep. She wasn’t happy and she wasn’t okay. Thunder was never something that she liked but the row was still fresh. Stupid prat!
‘No, I’m not okay,” she told him. It lacked a lot of the sharpness that it often had. “It’s storming and I’m letting you do what you want – you danced with another person – you – I still can’t believe you.” She certainly couldn’t believe him. Since when was he a drunk, dancing with random girls.
She almost didn’t know what to say. She wished the storm would let up so she could go back to stewing in her own room. She only felt comfortable and safe when she was in his room though. She just wanted to be safe. “Were you trying to hurt me?” she asked quietly. He had hurt her before physically in ways she'd enjoyed in some deep down sadistic sort of way. She didn't like the emotional pain though.