title : ow! you're gonna fucking
pay for that!
oc / pairing : sam gray and
angie rossi (samgie)
trigger warnings : mentions of blood

DAY FIFTEEN : " ow! you're gonna
pay for that! "

──────────── ✦ ────────────

THE HALLS OF HAWKINS HIGH WAS ALWAYS PACKED. Angelo always hated walking through them. Going class to class, or in this case, his locker to grab something else. He wasn't even worried about his other books, just his sketchbook, considering that he had been in the class that practically forbade him to use it. Eyes squinting as he tried to read the numbers on the knob to get it open.

It took him two tries before he got it open. But, as soon as he gets it open, it shuts. Not because of him, but because of Sam, who's eyeing them down with his piercing blue eyes. If Angelo hadn't moved his hands quick enough, they would've gotten shut in the locker, and it wouldn't hurt, too.

Angelo looked up at him. "What the fuck, Gray?" he said, "you could've smashed my hand in, cretino biondo."

"You walk fast in those boots, I've been trying to keep up since we got out," Sam told him.

"Well, you should be faster," Angelo replied back, opening his locker back up, "What do you want? And don't say help."

"I wasn't going to ask for help."

"Bugiardo," Angelo replied back, "you bugiardo biondo. You're always asking for help from me."

"I do not," Sam argued back.

"Yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night."

Angelo grabbed the books he needed for his next class before turning back to Sam. "What do you need help with?"

"English ..."

"English?" Angelo asked, "you need help in English, and you're asking me? The immigrant?"

"Look! It's not my fault English is hard!" Sam told him.

Angelo looked at him in disbelief. He rolled his eyes. "English is hard," he mocked, "English is hard. Non posso credere di essermi innamorato di un idiota biondo."

"An italian is harder," Sam grumbled.

Angelo huffed. He couldn't even believe he was considering this. Bubbled up hatred for the blonde simmering down. But he doesn't let his guard down around him. He doesn't let him see. The last thing he wanted was to prove that he had a soft spot.

"Look," Angelo said, "it's not my fault that you don't know English like everyone else."

"What are you saying?" Sam asked.

"I'm saying if you weren't stupid, maybe you could──"

He couldn't even finish his statement. Angelo found himself on the ground after a punch. He could taste the blood in his mouth, spitting it out on the cool, tile floor that still sits above him. He looked up at Sam, who was practically hovering over him.

"What the hell?!"

"Do not call me that," Sam growled.

Angelo stood up. "I call it like I see it," he snarled back.

He got another punch to his face. Angelo could feel the blood trickling down his nose, onto the floor, exactly above the puddle of blood that came from his mouth. That punch in his nose particularly hurt. There's now a scratch, presumably done by Sam's rings when it made contact.

"Ow!" Angelo growled, before looking up at Sam. He doesn't even think before he throws the next punch at Sam. "You're gonna fucking pay for that!"

He quickly got up. But now they're both on the floor again. When Sam threw another punch, Angelo was quick to dodge that one. He threw one, and managed to get Sam in his jaw. With Sam being on top of him, Angelo managed to knee him in the stomach, barely straddling the blonde so that he could get another punch in.

"Te ne pentirai di averlo fatto con me, figlio di puttana biondo," Angelo sneered, clawing the other's shoulder as Sam tried to reach for his neck.

The blonde then pulled at his raven mullet after knocking him over, pink highlights now visible under the school lights. Sam is almost dragging him. Angelo grabbed his hand and he clawed it so that Sam would let go. Another punch to the stomach yet again knocks Sam to the floor. Angelo tried to get up, but to no avail as the blonde pulled him down.

"You Italian piece of shit!" He grumbled, swinging at him once again, once again getting him in the mouth. Angelo's lucky teeth aren't falling out.

Two teachers finally pull them apart from each other. Both boys are bruised, bloodied, even sore. Angelo looked around. He hadn't even noticed the crowd watching them. He doesn't even want to look in Sam's direction. He doesn't want to give him the satisfaction. And he doesn't want to admit how good he looks with a nosebleed.

The two of them are being dragged to the office. They're now on opposite sides of the room, separated from each other. Angelo currently has an ice pack to his head in one hand, tissue getting rid of the blood from his nose and mouth from the other. He had finally gotten his nose to stop bleeding after a while. Sam got him real good. But he did a fair amount of damage to him, too.

That stupid blonde, he thought to himself. Angelo didn't know what to was, other than the fact that he was indeed blonde. He couldn't stand the sight of him. And yet, he would let him ruin his life if he could. He scrunched up his nose at the thought, shaking his head in disapproval of himself.

Moments later, someone else walks into the office. Just pink leather, everywhere. From the pants to the jacket, with the addition of an ABBA t-shirt under it. Raven black hair, just like Angelo's. It's a staple. Vera Rossi walked in, and she gasped at the sight of her twin brother.

"Oh, Mio Dio," she mumbled, "what the hell happened to you?"

Angelo nodded in the direction of Sam. He didn't even want to talk about it, especially since he knew that his sister was going to have plenty to say about it. He couldn't even look Vera in the eye right now.

"Odio lui," Angelo muttered, gritting his teeth, "Odio quel bastardo biondo così tanto."

Vera smiled. It's slightly mischievous. She knew that she was going to have a field day with this one. "No you don't," she said back to him.

"I do," Angelo mumbled. It's angry. Vera can tell that he's pissed.

"Sure, whatever you say, Angie," Vera said back, "anyways. Let's ride. They called me out of class to take you home. I wanna get back before fifth period."

Angelo immediately stood up. He turned the corner, avoiding his twin's gaze. "Good," he says, "I don't have to see his stupid face for the rest of the day."

The two walk out of the schoolhouse. Parked in front, there's a motorcycle. It's been painted pink. Vera's pride and joy. Since Angie has gotten the car, she got the motorcycle. They wouldn't have it any other way. In fact, that was the way their father wanted it, considering that he had written it in his will.

Vera is in front, Angelo sat right behind her. The twin in pink started the motorcycle, and they were officially on the road. Angelo was quiet almost the whole entire ride home. He didn't want to talk about it. Let alone talk about how it happened. He would rather not have Vera laugh in his face about it.

Vera noticed this. She knows that he's upset about the whole thing. Who wouldn't be? Bloody and bruised like that. But she also saw the damage that he did to Sam, which was equally as bad. She understood why both of them were going home.

But Vera being Vera, she took this as an opportunity to tease her brother. She was always doing that, but it was always out of love for him. She glanced back at Angelo, eventually keeping her eyes on the road soon after.

"So ..." Vera started, "On a scale of one to ten. How good does he look with a bloody nose?"

"Shut the fuck up, Vera," Angelo snarled, looking away from her.

A chuckle escaped her lips. She then gave a nod afterward. "So he's a ten. Got it."