After The Ending (John Frusciante)

Chapter 12

"Could I uh.. Perhaps use your phone?" Amaya shyly asked as she leaned against John's bedroom door, the lilac dress she had previously worn between her hands and her hair wet from the shower.

John measured her up and down and found the sight in front of him both amusing and adorable – she was wearing a pair of beige pants that belonged to him and a flannell shirt of his, her beautiful face bare of make up and the whole of her looking even radiant despite of the horrors of the previous night.

"I should check in with my room mate," she then specified since John was too busy with staring at her instead of answering her question.

"Oh, uhm.. Yeah, of course," he then nodded and led her into the living room.

He watched as Amaya dialed the number and waited for someone to answer the phone, still looking so fragile and so shaken that the only thing John wished to do was to wrap her into a blanket and then stroke her hair and watch her sleep as soundly as a baby. He knew how traumatizing this whole thing was for her, so much so that she sat in his lap for at least 30 minutes when she actually realized what had happened, only sobbing and crying and clinging to his chest. Both John and Amaya could have easily guessed what would have happened if John hadn't been there and seen Danny's disgusting behaviour and that still made his insides turn.

The idea of somebody wanting to commit such a violent act against Amaya absolutely enraged him, because how could anybody even think to have the right to touch another person against their will? How could anybody want to hurt another person like that?

How could anybody even think to lay a finger on a person John had just discovered that he loved?

"Hey, Stephanie," he then heard Amaya speak to someone he assumed was her room mate, stopping John's train of thought.

He watched as she shyly smiled to the phone, almost as if she was trying to make it look like she was okay, even if the person she was speaking to didn't have the possibility of seeing her. But even if she did smile, John still knew that it was a fake one, because he knew her too well and he knew that she wasn't okay no matter how much she tried to make it look like she was. The way she cried in the morning and the way she clinged to his chest proved that she was anything but that.

"Yeah, I'll.. I'll be home soon," he then heard Amaya speak to the phone, her hands nervously fidgeting while she stared at the floor.

Seeing her look so fragile and confused made John's heart ache, because she used to be the most fiery, the most confident and feisty girl he knew and suddenly, she looked nothing like that. She looked scared and she looked out of place even in her own skin.

"You don't have to go," John then shyly mumbled as soon as Amaya had ended the phone call.

She looked at him with a rather perplexed expression, clearly not knowing what to make of what he had just said.

"I mean.. I don't.. I don't want to interrupt your day or cause any more inconvenience than I already have," Amaya then answered after a second, still a bit confused, "I'm sure you have people to be with and things to do."

"No, I don't," John smiled as he lightly shook his head, then declared after a moment, almost whispering, "I've.. I've missed you."

It was true – whether he wanted to admit it or not, he had been missing her and thinking about her and wondering about her every time he happened to see her artwork on some posters or flyers or every time he happened to see her at some party from a distance. It wasn't often, but there were a couple of times and every time he wished to go and talk to her so bad, but he knew that considering their last encounter at that one certain house party, it was best to stay away.