Healing Takes Time

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

There was a knock at the door before Petra stuck her head in. "I talked to your parents. You can stay here if you want." My insides twisted when she mentioned my parents, but my heart started beating faster when I was told I could stay. "I know what a fight with Levi is like, and it isn't fun. I think you'll both be fine after you cool off for a night."

I doubt it'll take just one night, I thought, but I said, "That'd be really nice--thank you."

She smiled--it reminded me of Marco's--and left, shutting the door behind her. Marco and I looked at each other. Without a word, he pulled down the comforter and gestured for me to get under. I did, too flustered and nervous to look at him. What was he going to do: sleep with me or on the floor or couch?

I was really cold, so I would benefit from sleeping with him since he was probably really warm. But maybe he didn't want to be near me for that long. I usually didn't want to be near me for that long. On one hand, we could cozy up next to each other and have a good night's sleep, but on the other hand, it could be creepy and awkward and nobody would be sleeping tonight.

If he slept on the floor, his back would probably start hurting, and I would feel really bad for taking his bed, or he might get cold and start resenting me. Or maybe he had a weird obsession with sleeping on the floor.

But he might end up sleeping on the couch. Not only would I still feel bad for taking his bed, but I would also feel awkward. What kind of person comes into his friend's cabin on vacation, takes his bed after being really emotional, and makes him sleep on the couch?

When I dug myself out of my thoughts again, I found him leaning against the door, looking right at me. We both blushed, but he didn't look away like he did every other time. I bit my lip. Was he expecting me to say something?

He finally cleared his throat. "So... I was thinking."

"What were you thinking?"

"I really don't wanna sleep on the floor."

"Nuh uh," I said in agreement with him.

"And that bed looks big enough to hold two people."

"It does."

"So I was wondering if you could scoot over?" At the end of the sentence, his eyes darted to the floor and his face turned a very dark shade of red. I figured that was the end of his little confident, flirting streak.

I moved over closer to the wall. He seemed relieved as he turned off the light and crawled in bed next to me. We pulled the comforter up and just stared at the ceiling, neither of us knowing what to do now. I bit down on my lip and shifted around. Marco moved too. We repeated this several times.

After the fourth time, I groaned really loudly and rolled over so my arm was draped over him. Neither one of us moved. His back was to me, and he was warm. He seemed to notice just how cold I was because he grabbed my arm and hugged it. Warmth flooded into me. I sighed. He flipped over. A couple of minutes later, we were tangled up, our legs in a knot and my head to his chest. I could hear his heartbeat, and I noticed that it was nice and strong and steady, and it was the most perfect thing ever to fall asleep to.

* * *

Marco looked down at the sleeping form in his arms. Jean was in as much of a fetal position as he could get when their legs were woven together. His hands were clenched into light fists against his chest. His head was on Marco's chest, above his heart.

He thought it was a bit cliche and wrong to say that a person looked completely worry free when they were asleep because even in sleep, Jean still seemed to be stewing a little bit. There was a crinkle between his eyebrows, and his lips were turned down the slightest bit at the edges.

Even though Jean seemed fine now, Marco was still worried. He'd seen Jean running in the rain, and he had run to the door to open it before the poor guy even had to knock. He seemed so worked up over something, and Marco just didn't know what to do, so he'd gathered him up in his arms and just held on.

Jean shuddered in his sleep and turned his fists outward to grab Marco's shirt. Marco smiled down at him. He knew that it was wrong to be smiling when Jean was probably having a bad dream, but he couldn't help it. Marco was being trusted with seeing him vulnerable, and he knew that that meant a lot to Jean.

Marco had never wanted to fight before, not even when... he happened, but now, he wanted to fight for Jean. To fight away the things that were plaguing him.

He curled around Jean's body protectively. Jean moved to accommodate. Now, they were mostly in the same position, but Marco was on his back, clutching Jean around his waist. Jean was now mostly on top of Marco with one arm around Marco's shoulder and the other hand hooked loosely around the back of his neck. Jean's head was still over his heart.

Marco knew that his brother was going to come in the sleep in the other bed. He knew that Armin would notice. He didn't care. He knew that people would find out eventually, and he found that he didn't care. As long as he and Jean were okay, he could face anything.

* * *

150 reads already? Wow, thank you! As a thanks, I tried to write something fluffy but mostly awkward. It isn't exactly easy to think let alone write when your brain is melted and dripping out your nose and ears. It is so hot here. I even had to work concessions at the pool today in a very small cinder block room with the fan being a slow ceiling fan over ten feet up.

Thanks again for reading, and I hope it isn't too hot where you are.

--Shelby