☆ gone | chuuves ★

22

Chuu's pov

If you told me 2 years ago that now I would be standing in front of Yves trying my best to help her heal I definitely wouldn't believe you.

Nobody would, to be honest.

"Do those hurt?"

I stared at her arms and Gosh, they were looking so bad. That must hurt a lot.

"Not really."

I know that she's lying. There is no way this doesn't hurt. Her arms were covered in bruises and scars. Not healed, burning red.

I remembered I have bandaids downstairs so I headed down to get some.

As I made my way down the stairs, the silence felt heavy, like something waiting to break. The bandaids were where I left them, in that old first-aid kit stuffed under the kitchen sink. 

My hands trembled a little as I pulled it out, the rusted latch making a faint click as it opened. Why was this happening? Why now?

Yves didn't deserve this. No one did. But seeing her like this, the way she tried to shrug off the pain like it was nothing, made my chest tighten. I hurried back upstairs, clutching the kit like it was some kind of lifeline.

When I got back to her, she was sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. The room felt dim despite the street light pouring through the curtains. It was like the light refused to touch her.

"Here," I said softly, kneeling in front of her.

She didn't look up, but she held out her arm.

I started with the antiseptic, gently dabbing it onto the reddest spots. She winced but didn't say a word. I could feel the tension in her muscles, every fiber of her body bracing itself against the pain. And even though she was quiet, I knew. 

I knew it hurt more than she'd ever admit.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I paused, the bandaid halfway peeled from its wrapper. I didn't know how to answer that, not really.

"Because..." I began, but the words felt stuck. "Because someone has to...."

"And because I care about you. More than I should."

I wondered if this is what it feels like when you love somebody. I already knew what it feels like when you fall in love with someone. The rush, the excitement, the way your heart races at the sound of their voice. But this... this was different. It was quieter, deeper. It wasn't the thrill of butterflies in your stomach, but the steady ache of wanting to protect them, even when they didn't ask for it.

Even when they pushed you away.

I carefully smoothed the bandaid over her skin, my fingers lingering just a moment longer than they should have. Yves didn't say anything, but I could feel her watching me, her eyes softening just a little.

Maybe this was what love really was — not the grand gestures or the dizzying feelings, but these small, tender moments where you try to piece someone back together, even when they're already broken beyond repair.

"You don't have to do this," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

But I did. And that was the hardest part to explain.

It felt like I was doing so little, like these tiny bandaids could never fix what she had been through. But it was something. A start, maybe.

As I pressed the last one on, I couldn't help but ask, "Do you remember when we used to put bandaids on each other after we fell off the swings?"

A faint smile flickered across her lips. "Yeah... you always picked the ones with cartoons on them."

"Of course," I said with a small laugh, "because regular bandaids are boring."

Yves looked down at her bandaged arms, her smile fading as the weight of reality came crashing back down. "Chuu... do you think I can really get better?"

I paused, unsure how to answer. Part of me wanted to scream that yes, she would, she had to—but I didn't know what the future held. I didn't know if the scars, both physical and emotional, would ever fully heal.

But I couldn't let her think there was no hope. She deserved hope.

"You're already getting better," I said gently. "You're here with me now. That's a huge step, Yves. And I'll be with you every step of the way, okay? You don't have to do this alone."

She finally looked up at me, her eyes brimming with tears. "What if I'm not the same anymore? What if I'm... broken?"

"You're not broken," I said firmly. "You're still Yves. My Yves. And nothing can change that."

Yves stared at me for a long moment, her expression softening, though the sadness lingered. "You really believe that?"

"I do," I nodded, squeezing her hand gently. "I believe in you."

She wiped at her eyes, taking a deep breath. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Chuu. I... I was scared you wouldn't come."

"I'm here now," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "And I'm not going anywhere."

For the first time in what felt like forever, Yves allowed herself to lean into me, her head resting on my shoulder as we sat there in the quiet room. The world outside still felt like chaos, but for a moment, it was just us. Just the two of us, sitting in the stillness, holding onto each other as if it was the only thing keeping us grounded.

And maybe it was.