~Two months later~
Me and Elio haven't talked since the incident. He went home, never called, never visited. But neither did I.
Our friends were a little shaken up by what happened, so we never hung out. My parents didn't invite them over.
Things were just getting better...
It didn't matter anymore though. What's done is done.
Of course I worried. I wanted to know how he felt, if he was still hurting, if the bruises had gone away, if he'd forgive me for ghosting him.
But I was scared. I was scared of being rejected by him.
Elio's POV:
I miss her so bad.
I wanted her to be here to take care of me; help my shower because I could barely lift my arms without being in excruciating pain, hold me when nights were rough, replace my bandages, and tell me it will all be okay.
Though, neither of us got the courage to call.
And even now, after everything is over and I'm healed, we stay away from one another.
It's unbearable.
My dad knocks on my door. "Elio?"
"Come in." I say, head under my blanket.
I hear his foot steps, and then the dent he made when he sat on the edge of the bed.
"You can't stay here forever." He says. "You've got to come out eventually."
"I like it in here though." I lie.
I'd much rather be out in a field some where, running around and dancing with Mia.
"You have to call her eventually."
I pull my blanket from my face and stare confused.
"I'm not an idiot Elio."
I nod. "Right.."
"I'm inviting them over tonight. Be ready." And with that, he walks out.
"Shit."
Mia's POV:
"Shit."
Now, I was forced to see him.
____
It took me forever to choose what to wear.
Eventually, I went with a short white low cut dress, and converse. I put my hair up half up half down, and just put on mascara.
____
When we get to Elio's, I reluctantly step out of the car. I already could see him waiting behind his parents at the door.
We walk over with fake smiles on our faces and hug Mr and Mrs Perlman.
"I've missed seeing you around." Mr.Perlman says. "Elio has too."
YOU ARE READING
My Art (Elio Perlman)
Fanfiction"This is my art." She says, sitting behind a canvas. "Art is sitting in one spot for hours on end, bored out of your mind?" Elio asks rhetorically, looking over her shoulder at the beautiful painting of a peach tree begin to form. "It's my art."
