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51

Edited.

Gregg's Pov

I love her, I am certain of it. Lucille Linn, is something different - a good different, though; she isn't like every other girl. I continue to look at her in hopes that she loves me too. In hopes that she won't say anything else then that she loves me back because I would love to know that she does. I can't and won't pressure her, she'll say it whenever she feels comfortable to say it.

"I love you too," Lucille's angelic voice states, sending joyful shivers down my spine. I instantly kiss her, I kiss her like I have never kissed anyone before. When I lean away from our collision of lips, I see her smiling brightly. God, I love that smile.

"Let's get you home, babe." I breathe and pull back onto the road. I catch myself glancing at her every few seconds. I could literally look at her, kiss her, love her all day everyday if she permit it.

"Thank you." I manage to say before she opens the door to her house and walks in. She turns to look at me with that bright smile of hers.

"For?" Lucille asks, her eyes beaming in the beautiful night sky. It's almost as if the stars were in her eyes rather than on the sky, it's a beautiful sight.

"For loving me back."

Lucille chuckles. It is the most gorgeous chuckle ever. "In that case, thank you for loving me back." I grab her hand and pull her closer to me, placing my hands on her waist and she places her hands around my neck.

"I love everything about you," I look deeply into her eyes. Our hands still on one another. I lean in to kiss her one more time before she goes inside to sleep. Our kiss is filled with passion, with care. Lucille is the first and only girl who has ever made me feel this way and I can tell you that it feels absolutely amazing.

"I love you," I say again much more confidently. She smiles back saying, "I love you too, Gregg," She pecks my cheek and walks inside.

♡♡♡♡

"Mom?" I say when I notice her sitting on the couch. "I thought you'd be asleep."

She shakes her head and sighs. Something is on her mind. "Gregg, baby." She gestures for me to take a seat across from her. "I want to talk to you."

What could she possibly want to talk to me about this late? "About what, mom?"

"Lucille." She breathes, her face scrunching a bit. She says her name so plainly. Did she not like her? I thought she did considering how they were talking to each other.

"What about her?" I arch an eyebrow, sitting on the couch across from her.

"She's a wonderful young lady." She starts, "but I noticed something on her that caught my attention." I furrow my eyebrows and wait for her to continue. "Does she cause self-harm?"

Self-harm? "Why are you asking me this? Lucille doesn't hurt herself."

"Then can you explain what the marks on her arms are?" She frowns, arms crossed and eyes glaring through my soul.

Marks? "She scraped herself on some thorns from a few rose bushes her mother has."

Her eyes widen a bit before sighing deeply, running a hand through her face. "Do you remember Carl?" I nod, arching an eyebrow. "Carl had those same marks Lucille has."

"What are you implying?" I say after a moment of silence. She better not be thinking what I fear she's thinking. Lucille is not like Carl.

"I'm implying that the marks Lucille has are not caused by rose bushes." She sighs, giving me a saddened smile, "Those marks were caused the same way that Carl's marks were."

I'm in denial, "Your wrong."

"Carl cut himself to death, he sliced his veins countless of times until he dropped dead!" She argued, "Lucille is cutting herself, honey! The marks are the exact same ones as Carl's!"

I stand up, "No! Lucille does not hurt herself! Carl killed himself because he felt like he wasn't important to anyone! What Carl did was wrong! Lucille, wouldn't hurt herself like that!"

She stands up too, frowning. "Carl had depression and it clouded his mind with horrible thoughts that led him to suicide!" She lowered her voice to a soft whisper, "Lucille may be the same. Lucille may be trying or wanting to kill herself too. I confronted her about the scars, she fumbled around with words before she could say anything about them. The moment you showed up, she didn't hesitate to leave to your car. She's hiding it from you." She has a point, somewhere between her words, I know she's right. I just refuse to believe it. "The rose bush thing is a lie."

"I know Lucille." I say softly, "She wouldn't dare to do that to herself."

"Confront her." She states. "and watch her reaction." I remain silent for a while and she continues talking. "If you're certain that the marks are from thorns, confront her and prove me wrong then."

"I will." I go up to my bedroom. I know lucille wouldn't hurt herself. I know she won't lie to me about it either. She is not like Carl. She wouldn't try or want to kill herself. Carl and her are different from each other.

Carl had depression, lucille on the other hand, does not. My girl isn't in depression. There is no way. I refuse to believe that about her. She would not hide this from me.

Or would she?