Every Part Of Us

31. I was okay

Ronan's POV:

I opened my eyes to darkness. I didn't know how long I had been asleep for but it obviously wasn't that long since it was still pitch black in my room. I tried to get myself to acclimate to the darkness. I blinked a few times trying to make out anything that I knew was in my room.

It started with the dresser, then the light shine of the doorknob. All the shapes becoming slightly familiar. The only thing that was different, that was out of place was the lump of blankets next to me in bed letting out soft even breaths.

Two years ago that would have been the first thing I noticed, the first thing to bring the air back into my lungs. Now it's been so long since I'd laid in bed listening to those soft puffs of air that it felt almost unreal.

I felt like I was in a dream and these days most of my dreams turned into vivid nightmares.

I wanted to reach over, touch her to make sure she was real. But even now in the dark I could see the blood coating my hands. I could feel it spreading all around me. I'd just ruin her like I ruined everything.

I was so fucking stupid. So stupid for standing in that kitchen and letting the voices scream at me until I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to rewind time and just tell them all to fuck off so I could get a moment of peace, one moment and I knew I would have never touched that knife.

But they were loud, much louder than what they were right now. Even now with Tiffany laid down next to me, they still whispered in my ear making me want to try to find silence for good.

"I should have let your bitch of a mother kill you when she had the chance." His voice was low but I could still hear every word. "And now I'm stuck with you, stuck dealing with your pathetic whiny self."

I flinched even now in the safety of my room. My back flinched forward and my hand went to my shoulder. I could feel the heat, the way my skin burned against the touch. But my fingers landed on the patch of raised skin and it was healed. It was just a scar and that couldn't hurt me anymore.

Feeling the scar, feeling that it wasn't real did nothing to help the heat covering my back, to stop the way it tingled and burned with the memories. And I could do nothing to stop the voice as it returned again.

I sat fully up in bed and let my eyes dance over the shapes of the room. I familiarized myself with each one. The dresser, the tv that sat on top, the door, the lamp on my side table. Each one familiar, nothing had moved, the door was still shut tight.

I was okay.

I was safe.

He was not here.

A soft hand landed on my arm and it was the comforting kind of warmth that instead of flinching away from I let myself lean into it.

"Do you want to me to turn the lights on?" Tiffany asked.

She didn't have to ask if I was okay. She didn't need to ask what had happened. This had been a frequent enough occurrence over the years that she knew exactly what I needed to pull myself out of it.

I nodded and even in the dark she seemed to understand my answer.

Once the room was illuminated I was able to really see Tiffany. I saw her face, the caring but concerned look she had on it. It was everything about her, her honey brown eyes, her dark curls, her smooth brown skin. It was all like coming home and that voice got just that much quieter, so quiet I couldn't even understand what it was saying.