the art of scars
- - -
When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I noticed was something tickling my neck. My eyes trained down to find the issue, which ended up being Nico's head resting in the crook of my neck, arm slung around my waist as he held our bodies together.
If it were any other day, or if I were in any other mood, I probably would've thrown his arm off me without hesitating or stormed out without another word, but at that moment...I decided to just leave it. I was so tired of fighting. We didn't actually fall asleep until the sun started to rise and I knew Nico could sleep like time didn't exist. So I lay there awake next to him, not saying a word as I watched the early afternoon sun shine through the glass that wasn't covered by the curtains.
It felt weird to just stay here, normally. This was the first time and most likely the last time that I'd ever wake up here and just relax.
Flashbacks of hot kisses left on each other's bodies, a hand round my throat and my nails scratching his skin raw. Memories of Nico's mouth agape as he pushed into me, sweaty body below mine keening as we went for another round before our bodies collapsed from exhaustion.
Nico looked so peaceful when he slept, a stark contrast to his expression last night. The gentle golden hues highlighted the bruises on his face, almost making me wince at the fierceness of them. I slipped out of his grasp, thankful that he managed to remain fast asleep.
I grabbed one of his discarded shirts and his sweats, not wishing for even a moment to put on my work shirt that probably smelled like eggs and flour. I hightailed in the bathroom as quietly as I could, grabbing a toothbrush from an unopened packet.
I'd like to think some of the tension between Nico and I had started to fade. He'd managed to get out a lot of his thoughts and I no longer felt suffocated by being in a room with him. I didn't necessarily know how to cope with the new progression, given the fact my life just a year ago was so different to this, but I knew I'd manage no matter what. No matter how much I wanted to punch him in the face sometimes, I had to admit the sex was fun, I had to admit that I missed us. Him and I.
Once I'd finished brushing my teeth, I looked over at Nico one last time before slipping out of his bedroom. He was still fast asleep. When I reached the living area, I started to feel an uncomfortable twist in my stomach, guilt clawing at me for just running out like this after everything.
Having decided to write him a note just to tell him that I had to get out of here, I heard the bedroom door open and I cursed under my breath.
"Leaving so soon?"
Awkwardly, I let out a little laugh, heat crawling up my neck when Nico's eyes dropped to the shirt of his that I was wearing. He raised an eyebrow.
"Yep. You know, places to be, people to see. You know how it is."
"Despite your past excuses, I know you don't have classes on Saturdays, Kezz." He said softly, amused.
"I need to get this washed for Monday." I hold up my work top.
"Cool, let's go." He shrugged, grabbing his phone, wallet and keys off the counter. He headed into his room and was back out dressed in a hoodie and black joggers before I could even process his words.
Great
- - -
Trying to escape from awkward silences proved to be difficult when your apartment was small and the other person was deliberately trying to follow you around.
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the art of letting go
Teen FictionKezziah doesn't trust anybody. Refuses to let anybody in other than those who have never faltered, because she can't afford to get abandoned again. Through all the years of recovering, of trying to fill that empty void that the lack of a family lef...