Cracks in the Ice 
chapter III. Raven
Page 1 of 10
I slam down the phone, hard enough to cause a loud crack, though whether it’s plastic or bone I don’t know and don’t care.
“What the fuck do you want?” I yell into the face of the nearest onlooker—a proverbial brick toilet at least twice my height and width. The contorted mess that barely passes for a face beneath ajax-textured hair scowls and sneers. I just laugh. Feeling lucky tonight, Raven?
“Raven,” whispers a gentle voice in my ear, warning me.
Pegasus. No, I don’t want to talk to you, don’t want to look at you, don’t want to unleash this anger upon you yet again.
I turn away, trying to avoid those sad silver eyes, filled with concern, concern for one who doesn’t deserve it. You’re too late, I want to say; I’m doomed anyway. But instead I find myself grabbing his wrist and pulling him roughly toward me, then leading us both toward the bar—my only sanctuary.
Pegasus is silent as I order us both a drink, though when I let go of his wrist, I can see him trying to rub away the pain of my touch out of the corner of my eye. “Poor baby,” I mutter, aware of the mocking tone in my voice but unable to do anything about it. “You’re not having a good night, are you?”
“I’m not a baby,” he snaps, yanking the Midori and lemonade out of my hand. There’s a moment’s silence, and when he replaces the glass on the bar, it’s empty.
I suppose I deserved that. He wouldn’t see it as a term of endearment, of course. Just like last time, when he threw up, because he was doing then what he’s trying to do now—keep up with me.
