The Unexplainable You.

Part Nineteen. Asher.

She kissed me. I don't even know what to do. My heart is beating two million miles an hour and my chest is rising and falling super fast. I dreamt about this last night, but I never believed it would happen. Never in a million years.

I don't want this moment to end, but I know we can't stay here forever, and I'm running out of air.

She pulls away and I desperately want to grab her and kiss her again.

"What?" I stutter, staring into her hazel brown eyes, "what was that?"

She shrugs, smiling like I just told her the funniest joke. She wrinkles her nose when she smiles. I gotta remember that.

"I wanted to know how it felt. Besides, if you're so insistent that you're gonna die, I wanted to do it before anything happened to you."

I lean back against the bed, probably grinning like a mad man. "And what was the verdict? How'd it feel?"

She bites her lip, smiling like she has the biggest secret to tell.

"I don't know, maybe I'll do it again and find out."

And like all the stars falling into place, she grabs my shirt collar and pulls me back to kiss her.

"Good," She answers once we pull away, breathless. "It feels really, really good."

I want to pull her in again, but the sound of someone clearing their throat startles me. We both pull apart, staring at the short girl sitting in a wheelchair at the door.

"Hey dude." She rolls in, glancing warely between Portland and I. "Who's the chick?"

She plasters on a beautiful smile, offering her hand out to her. "Portland Cormwell, and you are?"

Harlow shakes her hand stiffly, her hands shaking. "Harlow. What were you  doing making out with my sick best friend?"

Her mouth drops open, looking like a fish. "I, uh, I mean, I guess."

"Harlow, leave her alone."

She laughs, running a stiff hand through her hair. "But that's not fun."

I give her a warning glare and she instantly shuts up.

"So how old are you?" Portland asks, which is honestly a very good question. Harlow has the body of a ten year old and the eyes of a twenty year old. It's honestly very trippy. Her eyes are the only part of her that shows the burden she bears.

"I'm thirteen, but I'll be fourteen in August." She replies, a childlike expression playing on her features.

"August is still three months away!" I laugh, falling back into bed

"Only three months away," She corrects, winking back at me.

We all laugh, and Portlands hand grazes mine, sending tingles all the way up and back.

But Harlows laugh cuts short, and her eyes roll back into her head.

"Oh my-" Portland mumbles as I rush over to her side. My knees ache, but I don't care. I grab the back of her chair, pushing her down the hall, quickly, maybe even frantically. 

"Somebody!" I shout, shoving her down the crowded hallway. 

A nurse notices me pretty quickly, running over and kneeling down in front of Harlow.

"What happened?" She asks, feeling against her neck for a pulse, shining light into her eyes. 

"I, I, I'm not sure." I stutter, my voice catching as the woman slides the handles of Harlows wheelchair out of my hands.

"She'll be in good hands." The woman assures me. "And I'll come get you when she wakes up."

I smile weakly, backing off. But not before giving one last look at the small girl trapped in her own mind. I wish I could hold her and promise everything would be alright, but I can't. 

I turn back to Portlands room, head in my hands. But she stands there, arms outstretched for me to fall into. And the feeling reminds me of kissing her, and I never want to leave her grasp. Ever.