Pretentiously Simple | Kleo ✔️

26 | to have lost what once was found

a/n: guys. this chapter is a little intense near the end so beware. also this is a slightly boring chapter i'm aware but it is essential to the plot. enjoy!

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for the second time in los angeles, the hospital called my emergency contact while i was knocked out cold. it was leo who came rushing back to my room, his face drenched in sweat, his chest rising and falling quickly before staring at me with his big concerned eyes.

it was no surprise to him, i knew, with his eyes slightly red from tears that did not roll down his face, that i had miscarried his child. the one he loved the second he saw two lines on the stick.

i look up at him with my puffy vulnerable eyes. my cheeks are still wet and has been since i woke up from my incident in the elevator. my lip quivers as he rushes over to my bed, sitting on the free spot next to me and immediately taking me in his arms.

i sniffle as a new round of tears stream down my face.

"i miscarried your baby." i say, not to inform him, but to fill the void that so ardently needed to be filled. my hands tremble, my body doused in my own perspiration and yet everything was still superbly cold.

i don't see what he looks like before he comes over to console what was feasible to console. my eyes are closed as i feel his strong hands swaddling my back, heating up what used to be cold. my body is sore, but i contract my muscles to move closer to him, the one who elates me despite in this midst of sorrow.

i don't know why he comforts me instead of grieving a loss just as meaningful to me as it is to him. but i don't ask questions. instead, with my heart so broken, i, for once, try to mend his.

"oh, leo." i cry. his head is resting on my shoulder when i finally open my eyes. with my hands still trembling, i try lift his head up, but it does not budge. i try again, but i am too limp, and he is too resistant.

"darling, come on, look at me." my muscles contract even more to move my shoulder away from his forehead that was plastered tightly onto it. when i succeed, i hold both of my hands to his chin and lift it up from its position, his eyes revealed—profoundly dull it was as though they had never absorbed an ounce of sun. 

i begin to press kisses on his forehead, embracing him as hard as i could given my fragile state of being. my teeth sink into my bottom lip, my heart could be felt just with two fingers on my chest, quick loud thumps every waking second.

he holds me close. his hand moves over to my messy blonde hair, stroking the strands that he could reach with his large palm and fingers.

this goes on for a few moments, but it does not feel like moments as much as it feels like a few seconds. as we hold each other close for dear life, i could not help but feel myself live and breathe in the presence of a moment that feels so uplifting in the thick of grief and despair. i realize we hold on, not just because this was a suffering that affected us both, but also because we are in this together. whatever he suffered, so did i, and vice versa. it was now us against the world.

"are you okay?" i whisper. a sniffle follows.

i receive a head nod. "i had a feeling this was gonna happen."

i look down to his lap, my arms resting on his shoulders. my lips purse.

"yeah." i whisper again, this time even quieter. "yeah, me too."