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Chapter 23- tired

George's POV

I lay flat on my back, tears not falling though they wanted to. Sleep was refusing to come, so the only company I had was a dull pain seeing as Clay would only come in to give me water or medicine. It was terrible, every time he entered the room I wanted to sit up and look at him eagerly, so happy for him to finally be there. But I'd try moving and instantly cry out, then when he came to help I had to shut my eyes so as not to see his. Guilt flooded me at the idea of how awful he must be feeling, unable to even make me feel loved in my current state. Love and worry for the blonde joined it, thoughts of him and his feelings overtaking my mind. Busying my thoughts until all I could see was his face and all I could hear were his distant sobs from the other room.

"Clay!"

His name escaped my mouth before I could stop it, sounding terrified and hurt. Immediately I heard footsteps and the door opened. I forced myself up on my elbows, staring around frantically. Before I knew it those familiar arms wrapped around me and my face was buried in a warm neck. His name erupted from my throat repeatedly, loud and sorrowful. Clay started to adjust where he was lying but I felt pain shoot down my side and cried out, quickly feeling guilt spread as the boy above me pulled away and started panicking. "George, I'm s-sorry, I'm so sorry.."  

He was looking at the floor, hiding his face from my view. It was so awful to see how much pain showed from how his shoulders stood and how his hands were held. "Clay, I don't know how to-"

"No George, I don't know. Just..why can't you look at me anymore? I didn't say anything. I didn't DO anything. Only loved, at least I hope...I know I love you, I just- I'm your BOYFRIEND. Why do you think I'd ever hurt you? What did I do? It wasn't me that hurt you it was my dad. I like understanding you George but this is BULLSHIT!"

A hand gripped my chin before I could turn my head down, forcing it back up. Fear and confusion paralysed me; bright yellow eyes bore into mine, full of anger and a sadness I had hoped never to see in them. "Clay-" He released me suddenly, leaving me to wince at the now worse pain in my jaw. Clay cursed at himself, fisting his hair and staring at me. I couldn't help but look away.
"George I-I'm sorry. Shit shit shit, I'm sorry. I hate everything so much for letting him hurt you. That was- fuck....a-are you ok? I'll leave you alone. Do you need anything?" I shook my head, already feeling tears start to fall. His voice softened and this time the hand placed on my cheek was gentle and caring.

"I'm so sorry. Shit, I'm so sorry. Is you neck ok?" Fingers travelled down my throat softly, seeming to stop at bits that had hurt most.

"I just- I love you so much, George and- I dunno, it's..you did nothing wrong, and..and I let him hurt you. I should've stopped him. I should've made him hurt me instead of you. And just now, I wasn't doing..I wasn't doing that to you, I wanted to do it to him, the anger was at him, the h-..the hurting was at him..fuck."

I forced my eyes up, meeting them with his. For the first time in the past few days they had no anger or hatred in them- only guilt and overwhelming love. Even though there was still that element of fear in the back of my mind the safety the hands cupping my face gave me took over it. 

"I'm..I'm so tired, Clay.." I mumbled suddenly, tears continuing to spill as I looked away. "Then-then sleep" was his response, as well as wrapping his arms around me to draw me into a hug. Painful sobs came again. 
"No, I'm...I'm so- t-tired, I.." 
"I know, Georgie. I know, it's ok." 

*

Clay's POV

George nuzzled further into my chest, his movements stiff from injuries. Luckily I didn't struggle to help him move seeing as he was so easy to lift; we ended up lying facing each other with his face buried in my neck. His teary words filled my head, as did the constantly repeating image of those beautiful brown eyes turning away from mine.

'I'm so tired Clay'

And I knew what he meant. I knew the pain, the trauma, the fear, the worry that he'd had to go through and I had still, in that moment, managed to find a reason to shout at him and come close to hurting him. The forgiveness he always gives without hesitation worries me that either I've upset him without knowing before or that if someone wanted to they very easily could.

For now I knew that the guilt I was feeling would be felt for a while. It wouldn't fade, wouldn't distance from me, but perhaps that was a good thing. Love is a positive feeling, therefore must come with something bad. There always has to be one thing ruining the perfection, so for us it would be the insecurity and this empty guilt filling my heart.

A small groan came from beneath me and I realised how tight my hold on George had become. Apologising I backed off a bit, giving the little brunette time to breath. "Sorry" I breathed, feeling my shoulders relax as I said it. My mind calmed down, just for a split second but it still happened. For a minute, a moment, a frozen millisecond in time I knew what it was like for everything to just...stop. It was a nice feeling.

And I let the memory of it consume me. Calm me just a bit. I let it close my eyes and slow my breathing. I let the darkness seep in and eventually take over.

I made sure that the last thing I heard before falling asleep were the gentle breaths of my lover in my arms.

(1038 words)

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