Fragile Little Thing

Sloane

Corbin doesn’t say anything after I hit him. Instead, he stares up at me from the muddy ground, his face a mirror of confusion as he scrubs his fingers over his reddening cheek where my fist connects.

But eventually, he raises his voice. “What the hell, Sloane?” he sputters, struggling to get back on his feet. “You can’t just go around punching people because you’re mad!”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I