All Your Fractures

Three.

"You alright?"

10:47 AM

Jesse glanced back down the school hallway, empty except for the boy running to catch up with him. Jesse noticed that he'd gotten a new bandana, a dark blue one which complimented his eyes brilliantly.

He grinned. "That's a dope kerchief,"

Israel cringed, falling into a step beside him. "You sound like my grandma trying to be cool,"

"Don't you have a class?"

"Free period. Where're you headed?"

"Just the infirmary. It's nothing."

Their footsteps automatically slowed, as if they were stalling. Wasting away the time, wishing the moment would last forever. A moment of no worry, no fear, no misunderstanding. Just... being. Alas, moments are transient.

"Jess-"

"It's nothing." He cut in sharply, then caught himself. His nails dug into his palm as he tensed. "Sorry–sorry, I-I'm sorry."

Israel groaned quietly, throwing his head back. "I told you to quit that. The way you apologise makes me wanna turn myself in."

His eyebrow furrowed under his bangs. "For.. what?"

"Exactly."

"I... don't get it,"

Israel shrugged, "'Sokay, you shouldn't stress that last braincell. Finals are just around the corner."

"Rude little turd."

The turd ran ahead and opened the infirmary door for Jesse. "Besides, I was only gonna ask what you think of the wrap yesterday. Killer, right?"

Jesse looked him up and down before walking in. "Sure you were."

"You definitely liked it. Next time, it's on me."

"There won't be a next time."

"Yes there will." He got to searching through the white cabinets.

He moved to a bed, "You couldn't even afford a button, idiot."

"Keep playing Thomas, Jess. I'ma prove you wrong soon." After snooping, he found some salve and band-aids and took them to the perfectly laid bed where Jesse was sitting.

"What do you need those for?" Jesse started scanning Israel's body. "Are you hurt somewhere? Need help?"

"I'm fine. Just bothered." He took some of the ointment and took Jesse's arm, rolling up his sleeve. Jesse winced and hissed, trying to back away, but he was cornered. "You don't do pullovers unless..." He trailed off, eyes drooping at the sight of the burn marks littered all over his forearm. They had become so many, they were joining to form patches indented in his skin, most of them were fading but it seemed there were new additions every day.

Israel quickly glanced up at Jesse. He was looking at his fingers splayed on the white sheets. "So, I take it Jessika trashed the ashtray I gave her last Christmas?"

It put a tiny, probably contrived smile on Jesse's face. Not much, but it meant hope. "Didn't even pull the cute little ribbon."

The new burns were more severe compared to the old ones, possibly enough to leave scars. Indented in his skin, it seemed something was eating away his arm, bit by tiny bit.

Israel forced himself to keep his mouth shut. Opening it would take them down a road that arrived nowhere. It was better to keep his thoughts bottled, on a shelf– no in a safe.. Locked in a safe where nothing could just trigger the–

"Christ Jesse, this is only getting worse." He wound the bandage around the arm.

"You're supposed to be the optimistic one here, Izzy."

"Who says we can't switch?" He fell unto the bed next to him, his eyes flicking from the white ceiling to Jesse's hunched back. Scarred and bruised under the grey pullover. Israel had only seen it once – in the showers – but Jesse was careful, making sure he'd never gotten the chance to see it again.

Now the curiosity was stronger.

"Jess," Israel knelt on the bed and grabbed the hem of the long-haired boy's pullover. "Arms up."

"What?"

"Take off your clothes."

A/N: 600+ words... Oh wow🤯