Wandering Hearts | 18+

30.) Glimmering Stars

"Build a ship
Before you burn a bridge."

CHAPTER THIRTY.

I shut my eyes tighter and pull my blanket closer to my body.

"How long has she been sleeping?" A deep voice asks.

"Probably three hours now. Dude, she's really worn out, I wouldn't wake her up. It was hard enough to get her to even go to sleep." Another deep voice reply's.

"What did the doctor say?"

"She broke eight ribs on her left side, her nose is broke, and she has a crack on her cheekbone. Oh but turns out two months ago three of her ribs were broken and she didn't even know it."

"How long has this been going on?"

"Six months."

I breathe heavily, "You know I can hear you two." I grumble, my voice coming out more harsh than I intended.

Bryson rounds the couch as I push myself up. "Paisley." He sighs, his blue eyes stare into mine. "Wesley called me."

My head snaps in his direction. "I told you not to call him."

"Aye, don't get mad at me. He deserves to know what's going on, he's your boyfriend." He leans against the wall in front of me, lighting a cigarette.

My eyes wander down his shirtless chest, scars scattered across his body, almost to many to count. Wesley's told me a few stories about his dad, I never like to ask about his father, you can always see the painful memories in his eyes. He notices my eyes lingering, his body stiffens at my gaze. He inhales sharply, his eyes shooting daggers at me. "It's rude to stare."

I toss the blankets off of me and comb my fingers through my hair. I rub my cheeks where my tears have dried onto my skin. "Sorry." I whisper faintly. I pick myself off the raggedy couch and slip my shoes on. "I-I gotta go." I grab my jacket on the way out and rush down the stairway. I grab my keys out of my jean pocket and fumble to put the key in the car lock. I curse underneath my breath and take a deep breath, trying to not let the tears that threaten to escape my swollen eyes. I feel a hand grip my shoulder and take the keys from my hands.

"Paisley." Bryson says gently.

I hide behind the hair that had fallen in front of my eyes, not turning my attention towards Bryson.

"Paisley, please, just talk to me."

I turn my back to him and cross my arms.

"Why can't you talk to me?" His hand presses against my shoulder.

I yank my shoulder from his grasp and wipe the tears that have managed to break free. "Because.. I just don't want to talk about it."

"You-" His voice cracks, he clears his throat and grabs my hand, making me face him. "You should have told me."

"Why?"

His eyes widen, "So you wouldn't have to get beaten, so you wouldn't have to live your life in pain." He tells me. "So you wouldn't have to be miserable and hurting. No one should be hurting you, or anyone else. It's screwed up."