Saving Boston (Rewritten)

Make Me Feel Like I Will Never Recover

Everyone wanted to know my opinion on true happiness as if I had the answer. People asked if it was the feeling I got after knocking out an opponent just to experience a belt getting wrapped around my waist. The assumption was that I would never have to worry about the rest of my life because my funds would support me, even after death. Happiness didn't come from stepping onto the street where everyone knew my name, but after years of trying to decipher it, I figured out what it meant to me.

As my back pressed into the wooden chair, I stared at the woman before me as she ate blueberry muffins and sipped on a fresh pot of warm coffee. Her puffy morning skin glowed in the soft morning sun. Her eyes fluttered softly as she struggled to stay awake while her teeth broke down the food in her mouth. I brought the yellow coffee mug to my lips and stared at the woman before me.

Happiness was sharing blueberry muffins and coffee with Bo. Well, happiness was anything that involved the curly-haired girl. It was the way her fingers curled around the handle of her cup and how she softly chewed as if she were trying to savor both. The pace of my breathing quickened at the sight of her yawning. Somehow everything she did knocked me the fuck out -

"Why are you staring at me?" She swallowed harshly before gently setting down her muffin.

"Because it's you," my palm rubbed over my face. "And everything about you."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"How dare you hold my heart the way you do?" My teeth ground against one another. "You have it on such a tight fucking leash, and it hasn't tried to run once. It has been totally devoted to you, but you have not let up on your grip. I never asked for distance to part us, and yet, you continue to experiment on my heart as if you are some fucking scientist -"

"You - you," I stumbled over my words as I stood from my seat. "You sit here, eating your breakfast so softly that it makes my heart pound. You sit here with a look on your face that says you are thinking about something, and I am over here, wondering what I have to fucking do to listen to all of it. Nothing in my life has made me pray, but I have talked about you so many times to God that he doesn't have time to listen to anything else -"

"I constantly beg him to restore my eyesight so that I can see you clearly," I choked. "For half of my life, I have struggled to see. When I didn't have anything to look forward to, I stopped searching. But Boston, in every crowded room, through the spotting blocking my eyesight, I will always look for you. And you have the audacity to ask why I am staring at you -"

"I am trying to memorize your face," I couldn't sit still as I grew uncomfortable. "From the shape of your hairline to the dimples in your cheek. Your curl type and every way you wear it. How your caramel eyes look for me the second your eyes open from sleeping all night. I want to remember how your skin glows and how you look at me when you say how much you love me -"

"You are it for me, Boston Bennett," I gasped for air. "And I want you now, in the next five minutes, an hour from this moment to forever. It will only ever be you and how you choose to love me despite all of the horrible fucking things I have done."

"What am I supposed to say to you?" Her lips parted as tears welled in her eyes. "How am I supposed to respond to that, Kinnick? I -"

"I want to know that you love me still," I motioned to myself. "I want to know that you want me as badly as I want you!"

"I will always want you!" Her voice raised. "Is that not clear? I am here, aren't I? I slept in your bed, didn't I? We just showered together, did we not?"

"That isn't enough," my heart pounded. "I want you to tell me that you'll never leave me as you once did. Tell me you love me."

"I do love you," her hands collided with the table. "I have only ever loved you!"

"I want you to not question my intentions," I pleaded. "I want you to know that I speak with honesty and promise every time I say how much I love you."

"But you hurt me," she whimpered.

"Not intentionally," I walked toward her. "I would never cause you harm, Bo. Please, tell me you know I would never do anything to hurt you."

"What if I break your heart?"

The corner of my lips tugged upward as I shook my head in disbelief. "Oh, break it, Bo. Don't stop there, though. Rip it out, tear it apart, fucking step on it; I don't care. Do whatever you want to me so that I can feel the things that only you make me feel. Do it for the rest of your life, and don't ever fucking stop."

"I don't do it on purpose -"

"No, but I want you to," I pleaded. "You are the only person close enough to my heart that is truly capable of ripping me apart. Please, make me feel like I will never recover because I want the pain; I want the tears and the happiness. Give me all of it. I want every fucking piece of you that you are willing to offer."

She placed her palms against my chest as I cupped her cheek gently. "Oh, do what you want with me, Boston Bennett. Do it all."

"Then do one thing for me," she murmured as her eyes stared into mine.

"Anything," my breath fanned across her lips as I felt her warmth against me.

"Kiss me," her strained words lost air. "Kiss me and promise that you will do it until both of us are gasping for a breath and you think my lips are the very thing that will give you air."

Before I connected our lips, she spoke one last time. "But one last thing, please?"

"What is it?" My fingertips brushed away her hair as I ached to feel her lips against mine.

"Love me how you do and only how you can do," my forehead rested against hers. "And don't ever change yourself thinking I would want you any other way."

"I promise," I kissed the tip of her nose. "I promise it all."

Her mouth brushed against mine. "Then I don't know why you are taking so long to kiss me."