Far From Perfect || Tronnor

33: Superman

Let drama happen before the love, and love happen after the drama.

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So usually people start a chapter after that with, "I woke up, and had no idea where I was." Now, because I am certainly no ordinary basic bitch, that isn't how I am going to start this chapter.

I am going to start it by saying that when I woke up, I knew exactly where I was. Connor's room, which made complete sense seeing what had recently taken place. "Connor?" I said against the pillow that my head was rested on. I was on Connor's bed, and didn't even think to make an effort to move.

I didn't get a response, and so I tried my best to move a little to scout the room. In doing so, my head refused the movement, sending me into a huge spiralling hallucination. "Dammit! Connor!" I screamed with my eyes squished together. My voice sounded so scratchy, and it sort of scared me.

"Coming!" I heard him say on the other side of the door. He came in soon after with a tray of dishware and food, and looked at me with a mixture of guilt and sympathy. "Morning, sleeping beauty," He said, earning a small smile from me. A very hurtful smile at that.

"It isn't actually morning, is it?" I said.

He shook his head, "No of course not. Life isn't that cliché." He sat down and a while later added, "It is only eight. Mom made us super, if you would like some," He said, gesturing to the plater of soup.

"Hmm," I hummed in response. I was trying my best to enjoy every bit of safety in this place, even with my mind thinking about what Connor was talking about in the car before I passed out. What was he sorry about?

Connor placed the soup dish on his desk, and sat back down on the bed. "Here, let me help you up." He lightly placed his hands on my arm, ready to pull me up to a sitting position.

"You act like I am very crippled," I said, smiling at him. He smiled back, but it was a weak one. It was as if there wasn't much helping him do so. None-the-less, I got lost in his eyes.

"You are crippled, baby," He teased, sticking his tongue out. Although it wasn't that funny, he still made me crack up, causing my torso to ache in retaliation. During the fight, I didn't feel like I was hurt that badly, but Caspar did get a couple punches on my face and gut. It wasn't that bad, but the worst came when he pushed me against the wall, because I got quite a hit to the back of my head.

I nodded, "Yeah, yeah I am." There wasn't any point to disagree with him, when it was obvious that I was just trying to put on a strong façade so that I didn't seem as vulnerable. But I was vulnerable, and denial would do nothing to stop that from being true.

Connor just giggled, helping me into a sitting positon so that I could eat some of his mother's soup. When he finally got the soup to me, he asked me in a kidding way, "Do you need help with this?"

Playing along with him, I responded, "Yes, I do." I pouted my lip and looked directly into his eyes for added effect. It had absolutely nothing to do with enjoying his eyes, at all. Stop looking at your screens like that, you horrible person.

"Fine," He obliged. Slowly, he picked the spoon up and began feeding me with it, just like a mother does to their little kids. And as much as I want to say that I didn't need his help to eat, I actually very much did. At one point, I tried to do it myself, and half way through bringing the spoon to my lips, my arm started getting horrible spasms in reprisal of my efforts. Connor ended up weakly laughing and helping me again, this time as if I was eighty years old.

After I was finished, Connor gave me some Advil and water to swallow it down for my pulsing head throb. He informed me that he had already called my mom, telling her that I was staying over. It was silent before I decided to let all hell break loose and swallow what little peace the two of us had by saying, "How did you get away from Caspar?"