Twisted Thorns

"Excuse me?" She threw her rag back in the bucket of solution where it sloshed, and spun to face him directly. "Last time I checked, this is my house and I-" Vincent cut off whatever he was about to say as rage boiled through her stomach. Arrie stormed over to him, and he took a step back, alarmed when she leaned in inches from his face. Good. She jabbed a finger into his chest. “Have you lost your mind?” She hissed. “Back off, I’m warning you.” He demanded. “Or what? What are you going to do? Do you think you can just run around in the dark with a hood on your head and scare me? Like you’re some sort of evil villian?” Arrie snapped. Unable to decide if she was feeling reckless or brave she took another step toward him. He retreated again and his back bumped against the wall. Before he could stop her, Arrie reached up, her fingers closing on the back of the hoods fabric. She ignored his spluttering protest and gave the hood a sharp yank, causing it to fall away and reveal his face. Heart pumping, Arrie stood frozen, the fabric still hanging in her grip, unable to look away from the smoldering eyes now pinning her to the floor. Hidden beneath his hair, a vicious scar encompassed Vincent’s left cheek, in varying shades of vermilion and fuchsia that didn't match the rest of his olive skin tone. It encircled his eye, extending towards his hair line and then crept down his neck before disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. His right side was smooth and young, and she faintly thought he couldn’t be much older than her. "What are you staring at?" he growled, bearing down on her like a thundercloud. He latched onto her wrist with one hand, and with the other he pried the fabric out of her grip. "Uhh.." Arrie swallowed hard as her brain short-circuited. Her reckless bravery from seconds before abandoned her and she took half a step back.