Peter's fingers landed on the doorbell for the third time, making it buzz. He had been standing there for two minutes now and no one had come to the door yet.

The night was cold and harsh and pricked at his skin. He crossed his arms and rubbed his palms against his skin in a bid to get warmer. Ivy had told him to take a jacket but Peter had refused. Now, he was freezing and the goosebumps on his skin didn't look like they were going to disappear anytime soon.

He didn't like the feeling one bit; it reminded him of how he felt everytime the Colin guy spoke to him. It was like a bucket of cold water had been dumped on him unexpectedly and it left him distorted and confused.

Especially when the guy had the nerve to ask him if he was gay. It had been like a blow to him- how could anyone ask him that? Peter sure didn't think he looked gay. Wait, did gay people have a look?

He was also a hundred percent sure he wasn't giving off any signals or gay vibes. Peter was straight, like a ruler. No curves and definitely no bends.

What about those flexible rulers, they're also rulers too? he asked himself and immediately regretted it. He shouldn't even be giving that subject this much attention. He was not gay. He didn't like boys. That was the straight and simple truth.

And it was the reason why Peter had told Colin exactly what he did when that bomb of a question was thrown at him.

"It seems like you really don't have a head atop your neck. I am not gay. And if I were, I feel like I could do so much better than you."

He had stormed out of the store and a couple of blocks to his house, had realized the mistake he had made. He shouldn't have added that last sentence. He later realized that it could suggest that he was open to the idea of being gay or something, which was a lie.

But he wouldn't dwell on that at this time. He was focused on getting his girlfriend back- wiping that ex out of existence. Plus, he was cold. So very cold.

But Peter wasn't ever going to mention the part where he had to blow on his hands and shuffle from one foot to the other to Ivy- it was something he'd never recount on. He couldn't let Ivy know she was right to tell him to take a coat or jacket along. Her head's already too big for her body, no need in making it bigger, he thought to himself.

Peter pressed on the doorbell one more time before pacing on the porch. It was to get his blood running again. His hands had started turning a pale blue.

The pounding of footsteps came from within the house and a voice followed the heavy sounds. "Hang on. Dammit... I'm coming."

The latch was released and a mop of fiery red hair appeared from behind the door. Vivid blue eyes met his, and a groan erupted from the girl. Her freckle-dusted cheeks hollowed and her small nose crinkled.

The first time Lily had asked him what his girlfriend- ahem, ex-girlfriend- looked like, his mind had conjured an image of that Disney Princess with the thick scottish accent. What was her name again? Aha, Merida.

Lily had told him- after he gave a most heartfelt description- that she sounded like a caricature. It had hurt him because he had really tried that time, but nonetheless, it didn't change the fact that this ex was a beauty.

"Oh, it's you," she said, face scrunching up like she'd just drank from a sour lemon.

The girl began to shut the door in his face but he was quick to use his leg to block the action. It was effective; the door didn't get slammed in his face. But his foot did get the receiving end of the bat.

Swallowing down the pain and ignoring the fact that his foot had begun to throb in the scruffy black converse it was in, he started speaking.

"Kay, don't do this to me. I wanna talk to you."

Kayla looked back in the house for a second and then her eyes fell on Peter's drawn face.

She breathed out a heavy sigh, mumbling, "I know I'm gonna regret this." She swept her curls back and cleared her throat. "You have two minutes, Peter."

"Gosh, thanks," Peter smiled. He wasn't even sure she'd had given him a second of her time, this was good.

But his body temperature was dropping and he shivered a little.

"Can we talk inside, it's... cold out here."

Kayla looked at his hands which were wrapped around himself and his lips which had lost the colour in them.

She stepped back and let him in.

Once the door was shut behind Peter, he was a bit more confident about being able to get back with Kayla.

He expected to be let into the living room or kitchen or anywhere in fact, but she stood with him in the hall, her back pressed to the wall and her hands folded in front of her chest.

But Peter couldn't complain, he was safe from the cold and felt the heat rush back into his cheeks as his body opened up to the warmth.

His eyes finally registered that Kayla was in a tight black tank top and small shorts that stopped at her upper thighs.

"You look hot, Kay."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm tired and would rather be in bed right now, cut to the chase."

Peter cleared his throat, preparing to mete out the speech he had practiced again and again in his head.

"Kayla, I know you're mad at me and you have every right to be."

She scoffed. "Biggest understatement of the year. I'm fucking furious, Pete."

He bit his tongue and focused on staying on track.

"I understand that what I did was wrong and I'm sorry. But I needed to confirm that you and Kyle-"

"Jesus, Peter." Her hands went up to her head as she let out an exasperated groan. "You're still on about this Kyle business when you know he is my best friend, of course we were close. We've all hung out lots of times and did you ever see him making a move on me?"

Peter hadn't. But that was off topic. He didn't make an attempt to answer. It made Kayla shake her head with a frown.

"Right, because he never did. Did you even have any trust in me our entire relationship? Did you think about how I felt. Did you ever consider my feelings when you did what you did, Peter?"

"Kay, I-"

"I loved you. But I'm sure that didn't mean shit to you."

"You mean so much to me," Peter started to say. This was not part of the rehearsed speech but he needed to get it out. "I'm sorry about what I did but I just needed confirmation. I was insecure about Kyle and I swear he-"

The way Kayla's hair whipped across her face as she shook it once more- forcefully this time- told Peter this was a losing battle.

"No. I don't wanna hear it. I thought you'd changed, that you'd sorted out your priorities and realised you were wrong. It's been a month."

"Kayla, if I was wrong I still wouldn't be telling you this. Kyle is in love with you."

Kayla's eyes narrowed and she stared at Peter, dumbfounded. Her blood began to boil and an insistent pounding beat in her head. "You're giving me a headache. You need to leave."

"Are you serious right now?"

"Totally," she said through clenched teeth. "Go home, Pete. What you and I had was good but I can't... I can't keep talking to you in these one-sided conversations. You still don't trust me and I can't be with someone who doubts me."

"But-"

"I know it's cold outside and I'm not heartless, but you still have to leave." She pushed herself away from the wall and stood a few feet away from Peter. "I think you have a couple of hoodies here, I'll get them for you."

Peter's mouth fell open as she turned and went in the direction of her room. It wasn't because of the way her butt jiggled in those shorts- he didn't even think about that.

She was getting his clothes that he left her- the final boot out of her life. There was no salvaging his relationship with Kayla. She didn't want him anymore.

Peter combed an exasperated hand through his hair, cursing at his luck. Cursing at himself for being so dumb. And cursing at Kyle. Stupid Kyle, this is because of you. All because of you.

Peter's forehead was pressed against the wall when he felt something slung over him. No, it was thrown at him.

His baggy black hoodie with the Adidas logo that Kayla had drowned in whenever she wore it. He had loved seeing her in it.

The gray one with NYU on the front- the one she kept because she claimed it had his scent- was also thrown.

And his wind breaker. And his denim jacket.

"Kay, don't do-"

Peter cut himself short when he heard a voice float in from the living room.

"Who was at the door?"

It sounded familiar. Awfully familiar.

"No one important." Kayla's voice was cold as stone and it stabbed at Peter in the chest.

That voice. Peter still couldn't shrug off the fact that someone who he probably knew was inside too. A male someone.

It dawned on him and he didn't hesitate in brushing past Kayla and heading further inside the house.

His suspicions were confirmed when he saw the one person he didn't want to see, with legs propped up on the centre table and hands behind his head as he relaxed.

"You motherfucker." Peter grabbed at the guy's shirt and yanked him off the couch. He didn't care that Kayla was screaming that she'd call the police if he didn't leave. All he saw was red and Kyle's very punchable face.

"I will fuck you up. I will fuck you up," Peter said in a low growl as he slammed Kyle's back into the wall and held him by his neck.

Kyle tried to pry Peter's hands off but he was too perplexed to channel his energy properly. His head was throbbing and Peter's hand was closing around his neck.

Peter didn't get to fuck anyone up that night.

Author's Note

Enjoying the story so far?

Sooooo we just saw Peter's aggressive side. *shocking*

What do you think happened to Peter? Was he right to suspect that Kyle had feelings for Kayla?

Don't forget to vote and make me smile :))