Brewing Anger

Lobo’s POV

Meera's voice kept echoing in my head and it soon became a thorn in my side. Her voice was sharp and insisted and all the words that came out of her mouth all felt like lies. Due to the anger surging inside of me, I could barely make out the words spilling out of her mouth, making it hard to focus on anything in particular.
"Lobo, you have to understand that_"
"I don't have to understand anything right now," I snapped, cutting her off. My voice was in a low growl, the sound of it surprising her. "Leave!" I instructed her.
She recoiled immediately, hurt flashing across her face but it was quickly replaced by defiance. "You should_"
"I said get out!" I roared, the words echoing off the walls.
Silence enveloped the room, pressing heavy in the air. Meera stared at me, her eyes wide and for a moment, i thought she was going to snap at me and probably argue but then, she turned and walked out. Slamming the door shut behind her.
The silence that followed was deafening. I sank back onto the bed, running a hand through my hair, trying to steady my breathing. My heart was pounding, each beat like a drum in my ears. I knew I’d overreacted, but the stress of the past few days had worn me thin. The pack was on edge, tensions running high. Meera questioning my decisions was the last thing I needed.
I leaned back against the headboard, closing my eyes, trying to find some semblance of calm. But the thoughts wouldn’t stop. Images of the pack, scattered and fearful, plagued my mind. We were supposed to be strong, united. But everything was falling apart, and I felt powerless to stop it. I Was supposed to be strong in fact.
“Lobo.”
I opened my eyes to see Zeeb standing in the doorway, a bland look on his face. He stepped into the room without waiting for an invitation, as if sensing my reluctance to deal with anything more tonight.
“What is it, Zeeb?” I asked, my voice weary. I wasn't in the mood for another provocation.
"Water supply has been on my mind," he said, diving straight into his plan without any introduction. He spoke rapidly, detailing the actions he thought would protect our basic need for survival, his words merging in a dull hum. I tried to stay focused, but my thoughts kept going back to Meera and the expression in her eyes after I asked her to go away.
"...and by redirecting the stream at this point," Zeeb explained while indicating an imaginary map, "we can establish a second reservoir that will..."
I interrupted him, holding up a hand, “Stop!” I snapped.
He gazed at me, confused. "What is the problem?"
"Are you aware of Ashina's possible whereabouts?" I inquired, shifting the topic suddenly. Ashina had been absent for days, causing anxiety to eat away at my core. "Is there anywhere she could turn to during times of desperation?"
Zeeb's demeanor turned gloomy as his eyes grew smaller. "How am I supposed to know that? She hated you. People do not dislike without reason. She is very comfortable with you, I can tell from the few times I've seen you two converse. You must have had a better understanding of her than the rest of us." I said to him,
He nodded his head. "I have no idea of her whereabouts."
"Think Zeeb," I urged, my frustration eating me up. "There must be a place."
He angrily said he didn't know, I could feel his own anger rising.
“Zeeb,” I said, my voice strained. “We can’t give up. The pack will crumble without her. You have to find her.”
Zeeb’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger crossing his face. “Give up, Lobo. You don’t deserve her.”
“What are you talking about?” I demanded, my frustration bubbling to the surface.
“Ashina is too good for you,” he said, his voice cold and cutting. “You’re just as arrogant as our father was. You treat her the same way he treated our mother.”
The accusation hit me like a punch to the gut. “That’s not true,” I protested, but even as I said it, doubts crept in.
“You mistreated her,” Zeeb continued, his eyes burning with intensity. “You don’t appreciate her, don’t respect her. If you had any sympathy left, you’d leave her to experience a good life without you.”
“Shut up, Zeeb,” I growled, stepping closer. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know exactly what I’m talking about,” he retorted. “You’re blinded by your own arrogance, just like our father. And you’re driving her away.”
The anger that had been simmering inside me boiled over. “Enough!” I shouted, lunging at him. My fist connected with his jaw, and he staggered back, his eyes wide with shock.
For a moment, there was silence. Then Zeeb lunged at me, and we were grappling, fists flying, each blow fueled by resentment. We crashed into furniture, sending papers and maps flying, the sounds of our struggle echoing through the room.
“You’re just like him!” Zeeb shouted, landing a punch to my ribs. “You’ll never change!”
“I’m nothing like him!” I roared, tackling him to the ground. We rolled, each trying to gain the upper hand, the fury in our movements reflecting the depth of our pain.
Finally, we broke apart, both of us breathing heavily, bruised and bloodied. I looked at Zeeb, his words echoing in my mind. Was he right? Had I become the very thing I despised?
“I need some space Zeeb, leave.” I said to him,
Zeeb looked like he was about to argue, but reconsidered. He left and closed the door quietly behind him. Once more by myself, I tried to regain my composure and figure out how to handle the chaos unfolding. Despite my best efforts, I couldn't get anything to succeed.
I laid on the bed, gazing up at the ceiling. Sleep felt like a far-off possibility, teasing me with its unattainability. The night dragged on endlessly, each minute feeling like an eternity, unforgiving and never-ending. I shut my eyes, trying to calm my thoughts, yet the quietness was disturbed by the reverberations of my past mistakes and anxieties.