Magnolia (p.t.v)

Chapter 15.

         My eyes unfolded open, and the first thing I saw was Vic sleeping peacefully. He was a deeper sleeper for sure, with low snores every now and then. I felt like a creep as he laid unconscious on the bed. He looked adorable as his eyelashes rested on his cheeks, and his arms were wrapped around a pillow. Once I realized, there were cuts on his arm, right under his elbow. I bit my lip, sitting up on the little bed I created with sheets and comforters on the floor.

         I ended up sleeping over. Mike was at some girl's house and I didn't want to leave Vic alone like that. Thank god my aunts aren't in town, otherwise they would've punished me. Frankie was definitely fine with that, obviously since she was with Alex. Mike however, didn't even bother answering me. I waited until he was supposedly going to get home, but he never did. I hate when he doesn't answer me, I'm going to legitimately kick his butt when he gets home.

          I leaned over, brushing my fingers against Vic's cuts. They felt puffy and swollen, so I believed that meant they were recent. It hurt just watching him cry and not be able to magically make the sadness disappear, because it's exactly what I wanted to do. I wanted to tell Vic that he needs to be gentle with himself. I will help him, I will be there for him.

          Vic shifted a bit, and held the pillow even tighter. I definitely didn't want to wake him up, he deserved rest. I stood up and quietly tiptoed to the bathroom. Opening the bottom cabinet, I grabbed the first aid kit. I remember when my mother would put petroleum jelly on my cuts whenever I fell down or got hurt, so I searched for that. After finding it, I walked back to Vic's bedroom to tend to his wounds. I eyed the clock on his desk, and it was only seven in the morning. I knelt down besides the bed, and opened the jar of vaseline, rubbing them on his cuts. Vic began to mumble, and opened his eyes. He rubbed his eyes with his other arm, and sighed looking up at me.

"You need to take care of yourself more," I muttered, wrapping a bandage around his arm. "You need to be more gentle, not violent. Why are you punishing yourself?"

"I hate myself," Vic told, with a raspy voice.

       "Do you think you're the only one?" I hated myself too. I despised my reflection in the mirror, I wanted to be dead as much as he did, but I'm not. I just have to accept that. I pushed the hair out of his eyes, and this time, I don't even know why I did but, I pressed my lips against his forehead. "Just go back to sleep, okay? We'll talk about this later, it's only seven o'clock."

"Wait, um," Vic scooted over, and patted the empty space. "We can talk now." I laid down besides him on his bed, and stared.

"How are you feeling now?" I laid on my right side, looking right into his soft brown eyes.

"Calmer than yesterday," He shifted onto his left side, facing me.

"That's great." I felt awkward, laying this close to him. I felt anxious, and shaky. My toes curled, and I wasn't even sure where to put my arms.

"Do you really hate yourself?" Vic asked in a low whisper, moving a little closer.

"Well, yeah," I honestly answered. There wouldn't be any point in lying anyway.

"Why?"

"Why do you hate yourself?" I asked, avoiding the question.

"I asked you first."

"I asked you second."

"Magnolia," Vic tilted his head, and pursed his lips.

           I sighed, "I don't know. Well, I do. Kind of. I just have this strong negativity flowing within me whenever I see myself. Ever since my mother died, I blamed myself. Then, there was my father who would put me down endlessly. It just hurts, a lot. Every time I look at myself in the mirror, I feel so disgusted. I hate how I look, I hate everything about me." I laid down on my back, and stared at the ceiling. "God, I need a cigarette."

Vic's eyebrows arched up, "Seven a-m smoking?"

"You betcha."

          Vic leaned over on the edge of the bed, and pulled out two marlboros, a lighter and his ashtray. As we smoked, I chuckled. "What a nutritious breakfast." My head turned towards Vic, and he was already looking at me, and sometimes I swear I could drown in his chocolate eyes. His eyes were frozen in position and I was puzzled.

Vic sucked as much as he could and then exhaled, "Can I tell you something?" He threw the cigarette on the ashtray.

"Um, okay," I answered, putting my cigarette out in the ashtray, too.

"You're so beautiful, it makes me speechless, Maggie."

My face was on fire, I was speechless when he told me that. Vic scooted even closer towards me, that I could hear his breathing. What happened next was something that caught me so off guard and sent shivers down my spine.

           Vic pressed his lips onto mine. I ignored the fact that he tasted like cigarettes, and that I probably did too. He tangled his fingers in my hair and I kissed back almost immediately. I got so caught up in the moment of his soft and smooth lips that I realized that I honestly wanted this for a long time. 

This was the exact moment, where my walls began to crumble. 

When he pulled away, I saw that his cheeks were red.

"I wanted to do that for so long, you don't even know," He whispered, like he had just read my mind.

         I blinked profusely, because I had no idea what to say. He grinned, and got up out of bed, walking towards my side. "Let's eat some breakfast, I'm hungry." I was so astonished about how he casually continued normally after the kiss while my chest was about to explode. Vic grabbed my hand, and pulled me up. He poked my cheeks, "You're doing that again. Your cheeks are pink."

"No shit, Sherlock," I murmured under my breath.

"What was that?" He laughed, taking me downstairs.

"Nothing," I squinted my eyes towards him until he halted and turned around, kissing me again.

"You're so cute," Vic winked and I let out a shaky sigh.

"Stop doing that!" I protested.

        "Doing what?" He asked innocently, and continued to walk towards the kitchen. I stomped behind him, "Stop making my cheeks do this!" I pointed towards my clearly red rounded cheeks, and sighed. "No, I very much enjoy your cheeks doing that," He stuck his tongue out, opening the fridge and bending down a bit. I narrowed my eyes, and raised my foot, kicking his butt lightly.

"I'm not cute!" I retaliated, crossing my arms.

        "That didn't hurt," He replied, pulling eggs out of the fridge and placed it on the countertop. "Wow, you're cute when you're frustrated, too." Before I were to lecture Vic, the front door creaked open, and I knew what that meant. Mr. Michael Fuentes was home.