Mirrors - A Maxley Slow Burn (IN PROGRESS)

Chapter Five

Words: 2156

Hey guys, sorry if this chapter isn't much but I really liked it! In the comments, tell me what you think it symbolizes having both POVs from the aftermath. Also, almost 1k reads, how cool is that?!

Chapter six might get..𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 for all you gooners...

Max

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Max's thoughts spun like a whirlwind in the aftermath of the fight. Despite the adrenaline still coursing through his veins, he couldn't ignore the throbbing pain in his wrist, a grim reminder of the brutal brawl. Doubled over, panting heavily, Max tried to convince himself that he had emerged victorious, but doubt lingered like a stubborn shadow. Amidst the haze of exhaustion, he couldn't shake the gnawing worry that something wasn't quite right. Were those questionable thoughts during the fight merely his mind playing tricks, or had Bradley's blows inflicted deeper harm? As he gingerly inspected his bruised body, Max couldn't help but wonder if Bradley's strikes had rattled his brain, leaving behind invisible scars. Yeah, Bradley was taller than Max, somehow stronger, and also somehow had impeccable eyes..what? Okay, maybe Bradley really did give Max brain damage.

But it wasn't just the physical toll that weighed on Max's mind. His memory of the moments following the fight was a fragmented blur, like pieces of a shattered mirror. How had he ended up sprawled on Bobby's cheese-crusted couch, of all places? The absurdity of it all only added to Max's bewilderment. And yet, amidst the chaos of his thoughts, a sliver of gratitude emerged. Despite Bobby's lack of medical expertise, there he was, playing the role of makeshift nurse. The gesture, though unexpected, spoke volumes about Bobby's loyalty and friendship, offering Max a glimmer of comfort in the midst of uncertainty.

As Max's thoughts gradually cleared from the fog of exhaustion, a peculiar sensation began to creep over him. Amidst the pulsing ache of his bruises and the persistent throb in his wrist, he couldn't shake the odd numbness that seemed to envelop his head. Frowning, he tentatively reached up, only to find his hand met with something cold and squishy. With a start, he realized that Bobby had placed a bag of frozen peas on his head, presumably to alleviate any swelling from the brawl.

The realization brought a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Leave it to Bobby, Max thought, to resort to unconventional methods of first aid. He couldn't help but shake his head in disbelief, the absurdity of the situation hitting him like a punchline to some twisted joke. Yet, beneath the humor, there was a warmth in knowing that Bobby had gone to such lengths to take care of him, even if it meant resorting to frozen vegetables as makeshift ice packs.

As Max settled back onto the couch, allowing the numbness to soothe his throbbing head, he couldn't help but reflect on the bond he shared with Bobby. They had been through countless misadventures together, each one cementing their friendship in ways that defied explanation. Whether it was a bag of frozen peas or a heartfelt gesture, Bobby always had Max's back, no matter what. And as Max drifted into a much-needed rest, a sense of gratitude washed over him, grateful for the unconventional care and unwavering support of his loyal friend.

Max laid sprawled on Bobby's worn-out couch, the faint scent of pizza lingering in the air mingling with the faint chill from the bag of frozen peas now perched atop his head. The aftermath of the brawl left him feeling like a ship tossed in a stormy sea—adrift amidst the chaos of his thoughts and the throbbing ache of his bruises.

Then, with the force of a hurricane, the door burst open, revealing the dynamic duo of PJ and Bobby. PJ's enthusiasm was palpable, his eyes alight with an almost childlike excitement, while Bobby's grin stretched from ear to ear, a beacon of boundless energy in the dimly lit room.