Never Meant (Kellic) // boyxboy

3: Fresh Wounds

It doesn't take me long at all to remember where I am, because as soon as I wake up, I see Vic's face. His eyes are still shut and his breathing is still slow.

I feel relaxed, well rested and steady just watching him sleep. For once I don't feel vulnerable and intimidated in his presence. His eyes aren't watching me, judging me, pitying me. I don't feel like I need to put my head down in shame.

I take advantage of the moment to examine his face. He is quite handsome, especially in the morning light. I pay close attention to his full lips, his long lashes, his strong jaw.

My eyes wander down to his exposed chest. I barely have a moment to dwell on that because my gaze follows his bicep down to his fingertips which are resting gently on my hip.

The bed suddenly creeks and the mattress dips as it senses movement. I snap my eyes shut, pretending to be asleep as Vic slowly awakens.

His hand slides off my hip as I feel him stretch beside me. He lets out a tired squeak and clears his throat as he rests back down. His hand falls back on my hip. I stay as still as possible, not wanting to give myself away.

A few silent seconds pass before I feel him sit up and leave the bed. He pulls the blankets back up over my shoulder then I listen to him quietly creek around the room. A few drawers open and shut and then eventually I hear the door open and close behind him.

I crack open my eyelids and look around the empty room, making sure that I'm truly alone, before I sit up. I rub my tired eyes with my knuckle but hiss when I feel the friction against the open wound I created last night across the back of my hand.

I examine the fleshy, pink and white abrasion and the near black dried blood around it for a minute. My eyes then wander to the bandage that is peeking out beneath my sleeve. I sigh frustrated and exhausted. I try to think back to a time before I started hurting myself but I was so young when I started. It almost feels childish. Why haven't I grown out of this yet?

I take a deep breath to clear my mind, but it reminds me of yesterday. If I had jumped yesterday, I wouldn't be breathing. I wouldn't be here. Maybe I'd be at peace, my consciousness ceasing to exist, no more pain. Maybe I'd be with my mom.

I hear movement coming up the stairs and I hold my breath but the footsteps recede past the door.

"Mama!" I hear someone shout. It's a voice I've heard among the classroom. "Mama, have you seen my shoes?"

"Ay, you left them at the door. What have I told you about leaving your shoes in the walkway? Someone could trip and break their neck!" I hear a woman call back.

The sound of her voice makes me nervous. I'm such a mess. It was bad enough that Vic has seen me in this state. I don't need the rest of his family seeing me like this.

"Ah, sorry Mama." Mike calls back.

I sit on the edge of Vic's bed, subconsciously picking at my hand again, listening to the sounds of the house.

"I'm heading off, Sweetheart. Give Victor a kiss for me." I hear Vic's mom say, quieter, leaving me to believe that Mike is now with her.

"Not happening." Mike snorts, distantly.

"Have a good day, my love." She says.

"Will do. Say hi to Papa for me."

And with that I hear the front door close. I'm so focused on the interaction downstairs that the faint knock on the bedroom door startles me.

"Ah, come—come in." I stammer out.

The door opens and Vic walks in, drying his hair with a white towel.