Our scuffle

'You bastard! I'm going to kill you', I advanced on him, punching my way, my fists connecting with his body with a force that will surely leave bruises. My vision narrowed to hurt him as badly as he hurt me. 'You coward! What kind of sick person are you to play such tricks!' 'Erica-', Raphael tried to speak, but I landed another blow to his face. He was in defence, trying to block my punches, but not attacking me. Yet I don't care. Given the chance he would fight back, was my belief about him. 'Stop it', but I was long gone hearing his excuses. 'Did you enjoy making a fool out of me? Did it make you feel better mocking me? Had a good laugh at how gullible I'm?', I taunted him. 'Erica! stop', by now we are in his living room. All that pristine, sterile environment gone with the mess we were making. Books were thrown, glasses were broken, chairs overturned, nothing remained safe in our wake. I tackled him to the ground and started scratching like a wild cat or punching whatev