bruised hearts.

chapter 2

"I know it does."

We stare at each other for what feels like a lifetime, just taking in the look of one another's face and finding details they haven't noticed before, like the fact that Ezra has a tiny scar above his upper lip that I never noticed. Next thing I know our lips are connected. It's not like we've never kissed before but this time it's different. I don't know how to explain it. It's just a feeling I have inside. Our lips connect perfectly like we were sewn together just without the  string, we stumble into his kitchen with our lips still moving in unison and he pushes a huge pile of stacked up plates and bottles into the sink and hoists me up on the counter. His hands move rhythmically up and down my body as he moves his lips down to my neck and traces my collarbone with his finger.

I play with the neckline of his shirt and gently tug his dark brown, curly hair with my hand, I pull of his shirt to reveal his soft, smooth chest and reconnect our lips, i'm so lost in the moment that I didn't realise Ezra had pulled off the hoodie I was wearing. He stops in his tracks when he notices my shoulders.

"Aria" he pauses. "Aria what the fuck is that."

He looks concerned and he won't stop looking at my shoulders. My scars.

I grab my hoodie that Ezra chucked on the floor and pull it over my head. "It's nothing. Okay."
I say as I push past him and throw myself on his coach, lifting my knees up to my chest and looking at the floor.

"Aria, that's not nothing. I'm not fucking stupid you know."

God why won't he just let it go. I don't want to talk about it. Not now. Not ever.

"Okay!" I shout as I jump up from the coach and turn to face him, I notice him looking at me, it's the look he gives me when he knows i'm lying to him, that stupid smug look. "Yes, it's exactly what you think it is Ezra!"

"You cut yourself?!"

"Yes! Okay. Can you just let it go, I don't want to talk about it."

I didn't even realise but my face and hands are dripping wet with salty tears. I slowly sit back down on Ezra's couch and cover my face with my hands. I feel Ezra's weight push the coach down and his arm rest on my back, I move closer to him and lay my head on his chest while he wraps his arms around me. The tears begin to slow down and eventually come to a stop, but wait why did Ezra immediately think I was cutting? My dad could have easily done it. So why did Ezra's mind go there so quickly?

"Ezra."

"Yeah, baby"

"Why did you automatically think I made those scars on my shoulders?"

"Because." he hesitated and started picking at his nails. "Because I did it too."

"Oh." I didn't know what else to say.

"Yeah, Oh."