Stitching Hearts [Hoennshipping]

Fractured

May's Point Of View

-x-

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Excited. I was excited. The school bell rang, excitement spiking in my chest as I slammed my locker and speed-walked past the door that kept us captive in this school. I breathed in the fresh and moist air that nature created, sunshine radiating brightly upon the water of the fountain. Bloomingdales and lilacs sprouted from the front area, in which I passed as began to walk. I didn't mind having to walk, it meant a nice day to enjoy the summer breezes and beauty of this Earth.

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"He told me to meet at the park," I wondered out loud, "so does that mean he'll already there?"

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My question was answered by the time I arrived at the small play area. There, leaning at the base of a large oak, stood Brendan. He stared bored-ly out into the park, watching the small fish of the pond swim by. He had his hands deep inside his pocket, eyes dull and filled with impatience. I thought he'd be the popular guy who didn't exactly want the fame, and he was. But it shocked me when I saw the faint white stick-like item in his mouth. Smoke filled the atmosphere, my breathing beginning to get wheezy.

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Brendan had a cigarette.

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I hated those things, they brought sick things into your lungs and slowly, very slowly, began to kill your respiratory area. Why were these things so popular anyway? Small, white─ deadly. I didn't understand how people could be okay, or so used to the smoke being clogged into their system. Didn't it feel uncomfortable? Maybe even just a little frightening? Little had they known that someday they'll die for these actions. I had no likings toward these type of people, nor their thoughts toward the cigarettes as 'cool.'

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Especially when I saw it with Brendan.

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"Br," I coughed, "Brendan." I couldn't take this terrible excuse for air. The coughing would soon get more violent and heavy, my lungs would soon feel as if they're being grabbed and squeezed, and then I'll collapse. But could I say it toward him? Maybe he'd think I was weak or overly-dramatic─ "May?" He asked, a hint of what looked like worry in his eyes. I hadn't known, but I was clutching my chest tightly, knuckles growing white as I held onto the hem of my shirt. "May, hey, what's wrong?" I couldn't speak, only shaking my head and taking a wheezing breath of oxygen.

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But I couldn't take it. With a soft, raspy voice, I managed to say, "Can't─Can't breathe." Brendan's eyes glanced at the cigarette in front of him, gaze forming to slits as he dropped the white item onto the ground and stepped on it. The smoke began to slowly vanish, the faint scent still around me. I leaned against the tree, desperately trying to let the oxygen flow through my lungs. "May?" I grunted, slipping down onto the grass and sighed.

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The last few minutes were in silence.

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Finally, the scent began to completely disappear from my nostrils, fresh and clean oxygen flowing gently. One deep breath and a sigh, I was back to my feet. "May? Are you alright?" Brendan asked softly. I didn't look at him, only at the barely green grass in front of me, lips forming into a straight line as I bit inside my inner cheek. That isn't until I felt a hand grab at my arm, pulling me gently to meet his eyes. That one moment of contact sent a rush of embarrassment inside, cheeks beginning to turn crimson. It sent a fluttering feeling in my stomach as he smiled.

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"Sorry, I didn't know. You aren't immune to the smoke that is produced by a cigar, correct?" He questioned.

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I blinked. Trying to be friendly, I sadly said in my mind. But as always, I sighed and nodded. "Correct." Brendan smiled and released my arm carefully. He took a step back and stretched his arms over his head, reaching over into his pocket and digging into it fiercely. I watched in confusion, eyes softly glaring into where his arm throbbed in and out as he attempted to claim whatever was inside the bag. Suddenly, he gasped lowly and finally revealed what he had been looking for.