A night of Disaster

ARYA’S POV "What's not fair is watching you get used by people who don't actually give a shit about you." His voice rose. "I'm the only one who's been here, Arya. Me. While everyone else moved on with their perfect little lives, I'm the one who stayed." "Stop it!" The words exploded out of me. "Just stop! You don't get to stand there and tell me who cares about me and who doesn't. You don't get to-" He cursed and slammed his mug and the sound of shattering glass cut me off. I jerked back, eyes dropping to the floor where Marco's mug had exploded against the tile, hot chocolate and ceramic shards spreading in a dark pool. Marco stood there, chest heaving, his hand still extended from throwing it. I took a step back, and that seemed to snap something in him. "Really?" His laugh was bitter. "You're scared of me now?" I shook my head. "Marco." "God, you're so stupid sometimes." He moved toward me, and I instinctively backed up further. "Can't you see what I'm trying to do? I'm protecting