Healing Gabriel (BoyxBoy)

✣ Chapter Twenty-Four ✣

Healing Gabriel: Chapter Twenty-Four

                                                   〒|〒Evan's POV〒|〒

      Several days later, Gabriel and I were in his bedroom. He was busy messing around with his fish tank, which I found entertaining to watch. I mean, you hear about people playing with their dogs, but someone playing with their fish? Ha-ha, only him.

       Watching him was probably one of my most favorite activities. He was captivating to the eye. He did so many childlike things, yet he was very mature at the same time. He was so odd. A good odd, though. A perfect odd. He was adorably different from the average person.

      I wish he saw that in himself. I wish he didn't see himself as less than any other person; I wish he saw himself as more. It had pained me when Alana had explained to me how quickly he'd lost his mentality that other day at her house. I even wanted to shed a couple tears when he started blaming himself for being taken and broken by that monster of a man.

       How could he ever blame himself?

       How could he think so lowly of himself?

       How could he consider myself even remotely better than himself?

       It broke my heart at all the cold negativity he was ensnared in.

      But at the same time, he made my heart warm at his innocence and purity. After all he's been through, he was still the sweetest guy I knew. Sweetest, but also most persistent. Every time I came to his house he'd have a frigid icepack waiting for me and my aching temple. I found it more adorable than annoying, though. It was comforting to see how much he cared about my wellbeing.

      "Is the icepack still cold?" Gabriel asked, not tearing his gaze away from his fish tank.

      I had set the pack of ice on the floor a while ago. It was too cold for my liking. I didn't bother to pick it up to check its temperature as I answered him.

      "Yep. Frozen solid."

      "It's been an hour, no it's not." He flickered his eyes over to me for less than a second before looking back at his fish tank. Then he quickly focused his gaze on me in realization. "You're not even using it!"

      I sighed, resting the back of my head against his pillow, not acknowledging his exclamation. Yes, it was comforting for him to care about me, but it was also quite a nuisance every now and then. He was treating me like a child.

      "I'm seventeen, not seven," I complained as I felt him press the once hard and chilled, now squishy and warm icepack against my temple.

      "I'll treat you like you're seventeen when you stop acting like you're seven," he retorted. I rolled my eyes.

      "You sound like my mom."

      "I wouldn't have to if you'd just get yourself checked out. I feel like I'm your doctor."

      I propped myself up by my elbows in his bed, letting the icepack slip back onto the floor. "You don't have to feel like my doctor. There's no need to worry about me because I'm fine," I insisted for the billionth time.

      He leaned against the wall by the foot of the bed. "Stop saying that. You know as well as I do that that's a lie."

      I scoffed. That sound was a mistake, though, for it bothered my throat. I tried to suppress my coughs, but it only made my throat tickle uncomfortably more until my eyes watered.