Eastern Lights (Compass 2)

Whenever I stepped outside, I wished I was a smoker. Not for the enjoyment of it, plus I doubted my heart and lungs could handle a smoking habit, but I would’ve preferred having something to do with my hands when outside. Smokers always seemed comfortable being outside on their own because they were busy doing something. Me, on the other hand, all I could do was people watch, and boy, oh boy, did I stumble onto a gem watching Thor slam his fist into Captain’s face.

Wonder Woman was there, too—though there was nothing wonderful about this woman. Captain came out of the bar after me, and he seemed unafraid to make a phone call on the streets of New York, probably due to the fact that a guy was less likely to be harassed and attacked compared to a woman. Count your blessings, Cap.

He pulled out his cell phone but got distracted when he heard Thor hollering, cussing Wonder Woman out. And by cussing out, I meant he was using every foul term that came to his mind. Whore. Slut. Bitch. Tramp.

Wonder Woman’s back was against the building as Thor spat his words at her, hovering over her body in the most intimidating way. She was already a small woman, but the way he surrounded her made her look even more tiny. Her shoulders were rounded forward as her knees buckled and she took in the disgusting words that were being thrown at her.

I hated some men and the way they thought they could treat women.

Captain slowly lowered his cell phone from his ear, becoming more aware of the situation that I, too, had become oddly invested in. I felt the nerves forming in my gut before anything even happened.

Thor shoved Wonder Woman against the brick wall.

“Hey!” I shouted. I stood straight, alarmed as Wonder Woman began sobbing. She shoved him back, and before she could speak, he slammed his fist into her face. A wave of nausea twisted in my stomach. He didn’t tap her. He didn’t slap her. No, he tightened his hand into a fist and swung it straight into her face.

I’d never seen anyone punched before, and that night I’d seen two people get hit. It was nothing like the movies, and it affected me a lot more than I thought it would. As she gripped her face and cried out, I felt an aching along my own jawline.

I parted my lips to speak up again as I started in her direction, but before I could insert myself into their storyline, Captain America was on the scene.

“Get the hell away from her!” he barked, marching toward the pair. He had a Southern accent. I didn’t know why that surprised me, but it did. A deep, smoky voice with a Southern twang to it.

“How about you mind your own business?” Thor slurred, obviously drunk and belligerent.

“It becomes my business when you put your hands on a woman,” Captain argued back. He wasn’t backing down, getting chest to chest with Thor.

You tell him, Cap! I cheered in my mind.

“She’s my property. I can do whatever the fuck I want to her,” Thor said.

Your property? What a fucking troll. I mean, who talks like that? What kind of messed-up planet was that superhero from where he thought that was okay? He was acting a lot more like Loki than the hero of Asgard.

“Are you okay?” Captain asked Wonder Woman, disregarding the ignorant man talking to him.

“Don’t get near her,” Thor hissed, gripping the woman’s wrist tightly and swinging her whole body behind him, where she tripped and fell. She hit the concrete sidewalk with a hard thump. Her hands went to stop her fall, scraping against the ground, probably slicing her skin raw. A sickened chill hit me at the idea of her skin being ripped open.

Her boyfriend didn’t even look toward her to make sure she was okay, but Captain did. He moved in to help her up but was stopped when Thor’s fist slammed into his face.

My stomach knotted up again. Watching a second person get punched wasn’t any easier than the first. My chest felt as if it was on fire watching everything unfold in front of me. What amazed me the most was how so many other people walked past without even noticing the intense moment occurring right there.

Captain stumbled a bit before standing up straight. He went to help the girl stand, but instead of taking his hand, she reacted in a completely deranged way.

“Get the hell away from me and my boyfriend, asshole!” she hissed, rising to her feet and whipping him with her lasso. She hit him repeatedly as if he wasn’t trying to save her from her abusive asshole of a mate.

How ironic.

The whipping sound felt so aggressively intense I forced myself into the picture, grabbing the whip from the woman’s hand and tossing it to the side of the road.