Blue Blood ~ Young Royals

Bruises

When I wake up, Simon is curled up with his back pressed against my chest and my arms wrapped around him, just like how we fell asleep. The only light in the room is some sunlight streaming in through the closed curtains. For a moment, things are peaceful and hazy, my mind still clouded with sleep. That's when I realize Simon is crying.

He's trembling a little, sniffing quietly. A surge of concern and sadness washes over me and I pull him a little closer to me. "Simon..." I whisper, my voice rough from sleep.

After a moment of silence, he sniffs and whispers back, his voice a little shaky. "Sorry..." He brings his hands to his face to wipe his tears away.

Him apologizing somehow makes me feel even worse. I feel like crying myself. "No, don't say sorry. Come here..."

He shifts in my arms, turning his body so he's facing me. His face is wet with his tears, his eyes slightly red from crying. He gives me a sad, watery smile. "Hi..."

I can feel my eyes burning, my heart aching, tears threatening to appear and spill onto my face. I fight desperately to keep them in, telling myself I have to be strong for Simon. With a trembling hand, I gently wipe the remaining tears away. I pull him closer against me, still trying to be careful with him. I brush his curls out of his face gently, my heart breaking more the longer I look at him. All I want is to fix him, to see him happy again. "Talk to me, Simon..."

He sighs, his eyes full of sadness. "I just... It's always in my head... Everything he did... And now I can barely even hug you properly without hurting... And... I just wish it would get out of my head... But I can't, it just haunts me all the time... And sometimes... I just think so hard about it... I can still feel him kicking me... And it won't go away, Wille... I just want it to go away... I just want to feel normal again..."

The pain in his voice, the things he says, the way he's curling up as if trying to make himself smaller, it all shows me he's been hurt deeper than I thought. His pain hurts me so much it feels like my insides are being ripped apart. A whirlwind of emotions rage inside me, threatening to burst out and show Simon just how much effect this all has on me. But I need to be his rock, his shoulder to lean on, his comfort. It feels like my job.

A part of me is blaming myself for Simon's pain. If I had never tempted him to drink from me in the woods that night, and hadn't let him keep going, hadn't let him drink till I fainted, hadn't been so weak in the hospital, if I had just gotten to him sooner, then none of this would've happened. A surge of overwhelming guilt and self-hatred washes over me, unreasonably blaming me for everything Simon has gone through. But I'm reminded of dickhead David, and how much worse he made it, and I hate him far more.

I'm so caught up in my own thoughts I don't even say anything to Simon until I hear him sniff again. The sound pulls me out of my head and back to where I am, lying next to Simon in his bed. It comes out of my mouth unexpectedly, like my tongue was one step ahead of my brain. "Can I see the bruises? I just want to know what it's like..." 

"I..." He cuts himself off, looking hesitant. Then he nods slowly despite the nervousness in his eyes, and sits upright. "Um, okay..."

I want to tell him he doesn't have to, but the words die in my throat. I sit up too, biting my lip nervously. His hands rest on the hem of his hoodie, they're trembling slightly. "Simon-" I finally manage to say, but he cuts me off.

"No, it's ok... You should see... It seems right for you to know."

I nod slowly, biting my lip and waiting for him to take off the hoodie. He seems to be working up the courage for a few moments, but finally, he grips the hem and pulls it off slowly and over his head. He lets it fall on the bed beside him, exposing his upper body to me. 

I don't think I was really prepared for this, to properly see the pain he's been through. Seeing the bruises all over his skin makes everything feel more real, more painful and more cruel. I feel like my lungs are being squeezed, making them burn, and I can't breathe. I find myself wishing it was me in pain, me with bruises on my body. Simon doesn't deserve the pain, the trauma. He's kind and sweet and he's an angel, he doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve people treating him like a monster. The need to break down crying is overwhelmingly strong right now.

I reach out a trembling hand to his chest. My voice comes out in a barely audible whisper. "Can I...?" He nods, and I let my fingers brush gently over his bruised skin. 

This moment hurts more than the others, more than seeing him locked up and people calling him a thing. Being so close to his pain hurts. I bite hard on my tongue, wishing the feeling of it would overpower the painful ache in my heart. But of course it doesn't. I inch closer to Simon until our bodies are nearly touching. I hug him softly, gently, not wanting to hurt him but also desperate to comfort him. His forehead rests on my shoulder and he wraps his arms tightly around me, seeming almost hungry for the comfort I'm so desperate to give him.

I hold him against me, running my fingers soothingly through his hair. "I'm sorry..." I whisper. "I just want to take it all away, Simon... All the pain... I'd bring it all from you to me if I could... You don't deserve this..." I stop talking and bury my face in his neck, feeling like one more word will shatter me.

"It's ok, Wille..." He says. I want to protest, tell him it isn't, it's a huge fucking problem, but the lump in my throat prevents me from talking. "I'm just glad I have you..."

I reach my breaking point, tears finally falling onto my face. I can't stop them anymore, and I'm glad my face is hidden from him in our embrace. I'm the strong one, I have to be, but right now I'm breaking.

Note: Sorry this one took longer because I've been distracted but for good reason. I GOT TICKETS TO OMAR'S CONCERT IN AMSTERDAM RAAAAHHHH!!!! I'm so excited!! Ok sorry move on you can keep being sad over the story now.