Serendipity.

11

"Max, stop messing with your IV."

"It fucking itches," Max complained, trying to take the tape off her arm.

"It's keeping you alive, love," Matt said, putting his hand over hers to keep her from hurting herself further.

"It's still itchy," Max said, but gave up on it.

It was the next day. They had spent the rest of the night at the hospital, waiting for Max to be well enough to be sent home. Nothing was broken, according to her doctors, but they decided to keep her on observation just to be sure.

"You weren't supposed to know," Max whispered with the intention of apologizing.

"You weren't going to tell me?"

"I just didn't want you to worry."

"Max, of course I was going to worry. You can barely move." His touch on her arms was so gentle, so soft, that for an instant she felt herself melt. "You are important to me, and you know that."

"I know, and you're important for me too. That's exactly why I wasn't going to make a big deal about it." Max wasn't meeting his eyes yet. The embarrassment was blushing her whole, betraying her trust to him.

"You have me. You know that, right?" Matt took her chin, making her look at his eyes. "There is no reason to hide."

"I have you." Matt's words felt velvety when Max tried them herself, scared of trusting but unable to stop herself. If any, she had already said a lot. He knew she wasn't an easy task, and still chose to stay.

"She wasn't always this way. There was a time where I swore she was the best person one could have."

"And what happened?"

"My dad died," Max explained. "My dad died when I was 9, and everything went downhill after that."

Matt's throat worked, evidencing his shock. A thousand thoughts got stuck in his mouth, his pockets full of letters he couldn't seem to string together.

"Right after he was gone, my mom sort of switched. I'm not sure if she was always that explosive, but anything I said would just burst everything into a huge fucking mess.

"It never got physical until just a couple of years later. I wasn't the best at talking and that pissed her off. There were mainly slaps across my face, but nothing I couldn't handle. I used to think it was okay since she was in pain."

Blue and tears and purple tones and dark nights filled Max's memories. A raw exposure of what she endured was reflected on her skin. Matt was watching her intensely, reading her lines between the lines. Brick by brick, the wall she had built so many years ago was slowly disappearing, her shoulders felt less heavy now.

"What happened yesterday?" Matt questioned, remebering the obvious fact that it was not just a slap on her face.

"It got a little bit messy. We disagree on a lot of things, but I used to get myself out of as many risky conversations as I could. Yesterday she was quite insistent with my hair, so I let her just change it. Then she asked me about my weight." Max's throat worked as she tried to hold herself from breaking again."She lost it when she found out how much weight I've lost since the last time we saw each other, but last time she told me I looked fat on the stupid pink sweater I was wearing that day." Max let out a dry laugh, fidgeting with the hem of Matt's sweater.

Matt's pieces were falling into place now: Max's irregular eating habits, Max's hair, Max's smoking, Max's eyebags.

"She hurt you because of it?" He asked, making a huge effort to stay calm.

"Yeah. For a long time I believed that everything was for my own good." And there was the last piece.

"Maxine." A deep breath. "Darling, that's not how people worry about others." Matt was feeling physically sick. "That's just straight up abuse."

"I know that. But I can't just walk away."

"Why not?"

"Because she won't let me."

Matt got close to her face, their lips barely an inch apart. His voice was so low she barely caught his words. "I hate the idea of you getting hurt."

Max hid in his neck. "I don't like it either, but I'll leave soon. And I can tell you everything, I promise I will. I feel painfully tired right now, and the least I want to do is to think right now."

"And what do you want?" He questioned as softly as he could, taking her face again to look at her reactions.

"I want to sleep. And I want you."

He lost himself in her eyes, his hand slowly caressing her cheek. "You have my heart right in the palm of your hand, love."