If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away

The Drug in Me is You

"I'm gonna go get something from the car." I said when we got back from McDonalds.
"Why?" Dean asked. "We just came from there."
"So you two can talk. I was trying to be nonchalant but I guess not." I walked out, eyes down.
"Is she acting weird to you?" I heard Sam asked.
Does he really not know?
I supposed I can't expect him to. But still.
A few minutes later, Sam came down and leaned against the car beside me. He didn't say anything. I looked away.
"So..." He said. "Were you serious about the whole sex thing?"
"No, but it got you up, didn't it?"
"Well that sucks." He laughed.
Where's Dean?
"So, what's wrong?" He asked.
"Nothing, why?"
"You won't even look at me."
I do. Just when he's not looking. "Sorry."
"Why?"
"Why am I sorry?" I stalled. I don't talk about my feelings. I don't talk about my insecurities. I don't talk about me. I just don't, and I'm very loath to change that, and therefore will not.
"No, why won't you look at me."
"I'm not not looking at you."
"What?"
"I don't know." I admitted, hoping it would sidetrack him.
No such luck. "Is it because of when you... You know... Got in my dream?" It was his turn to avoid eye contact like the plague.
"It's nothing, Sam." I said a bit too coolly.
"I want to fix it. Tell me what it is." He pleaded.
"It's nothing, Sam." I repeated. "Don't worry about it."
"But I will. Please, Lexie. Just please tell me."
"Sam, what do you think about... My little problem?" I asked. I don't like saying it out loud. I will, just not when it's about me.
"What problem?"
God. "Cutting, Sam." I snapped. "What do you think about it?"
"I hate it." He said, looking at me. "I don't want you to do it, and I was all for locking you in a padded room. Dean wouldn't allow it."
Well then. I stayed silent.
"You mean the scars?" He asked finally.
Finally.
God, I sound like an annoying, insecure teenager. So this is what I've amounted to. Lovely. See, this is why I never troubled myself with romance. Life was so much simpler then.
He took my hands in his. I didn't look at him. "Look at me." He said gently.
"Don't fucking touch me." I tried to pull away, but he kept his grip.
"Look at me." He repeated more sternly. Grudgingly, I obeyed. "I think you're beautiful, scars and all. I think you're probably very against that whole kissing scars thing, or I would do it-"
"Yes, I'm very against it. It's wrong. It shouldn't be romanticized. It's-"
"I love you, Lexie." He continued as if I hadn't interrupted him. Damn it. I was hoping to save myself mushy gushy stuff. "I don't care what you look like. Your beautifulness is just a bonus." He smiled slightly. I suppose he was tired of me interrupting, so I decided to work on vocabulary later. "I love you, okay? Nothing will ever change that. Why would you think that matters?"
Shit.
I shrugged.
"Tell me."
"No." I snapped.
"Tell me." He said just as sharply.
Damn. Okay. "Just... In your dream, she didn't have scars..."
"Because I don't care about them. Well, obviously I do, but they don't change anything. You're just as beautiful as you were once you took the knife from my throat."
"I'm so sorry about that."
He laughed. "No worries."
"Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"Could you let me go?"
"Oh. Yeah. Sorry." He dropped them. "Ground rules you'd like to establish?"
"Just... Don't touch me."
"But that's unfair!" He argued.
"How?"
"Because I like touching you. I'd do anything just to hold your hand."
I edged away. "Then just hold my hand and keep a foot radius."
He didn't comment on my movement, just closed the space I'd opened. "How about we set a certain amount of times I can do certain things?" He half begged.
Decisions and physical things stress me out unbelievably. I bit my lip, weighing my options.
"God, don't do that."
"What?"
"That."
"What, stand here?"
"Pretty much."
"Well, what else do you want me to do?" I smiled.
"Hurrying with your answer would be nice."
"Why?"
"Because I really want to kiss you, but I don't want to surpass the rule."
He was doing this just to make me comfortable. I'm such a bitch.
"Just... Not too much, okay? And if you think I'm scared or something, don't try to comfort me. If I want comforting, I'll let you know."
"So I can do anything I want whenever I want?"
"Not anything, not whenever."
"Well, yeah. I'm not Dean."
"I've heard you've had your fair share."
"Shit." He looked down, laughing softly.
I suppressed a laugh against my hand.
"Why are you so uncomfortable with it?"
I shrugged. I'm uncomfortable with everything.
"It's a good thing I'm not like Dean then." He smiled.
I'm glad he didn't press the subject. Maybe he already knows. I hope not.
"He likes better music than you do, though."
"You're supposed to be on my side."
"Bands before boys," I shrugged, smiling.
"I guess I can take second place."
"You'll have to."
"It's worth it."
I rolled my eyes.
"Are you quiet with everybody, or is it just us?"
"Everybody."
He stepped in front of me and kissed me gently. "I like hearing you talk." He said softly.
"I don't."
"Why?"
"I don't like the whole aspect."
"Hm." He kissed me again.
I kissed him back, and he froze, pulling away. "Are you..." He cleared his throat. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, why?"
And then he kissed me deeply, pushing me against the car.
I should've set a limit...