insomniac || j.d.

josh

It's not easy convincing yourself to hate someone you actually don't hate. But I do hate her, or that's what I keep telling myself.

I was half asleep when she woke up. Almost caused me a damn heart attack, but the heart attack immediately switched to heartbreak when her eyes quickly met mine. Bright red and dark blues covered her light skin. my hands reached forward involuntarily for her, but she didn't see. thankfully.

she twisted and pulled her shirt over her legs before proceeding to the bathroom.

I wanted to run away. I wanted to tell Jones that I didn't think I'd cut it for this job. It was day one for chrissake and I was contemplating my future career. I hated her.

My jaw locked and teeth clenched at the sound of her cries- or rather cry. I wouldn't help her. I was here to watch her sleep. I would. not. help. her.

Even after squeezing my eyes shut I still saw her pained expression. She could be hurting herself, I had to help her.

With a breathy exhale and much self-convincing, I stood in front of the small bathroom door. 1:45 am, my fingers gripped onto the doorknob and pushed it open. At the sight of her ghostly pale body I bit my lip and took a step back. I had to help her.

Her fragile body was curled up against the cold white tile. The only contrast was her shimmery brown hair and pastel yellow T-shirt that hung past her hips. Thankfully, her chest rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern.

Her resting facial features were something out of a fairytale. Closed eyes showed off her long eyelashes and even though she was deathly pale her cheeks held a faint pink color. I swallowed thickly at her eyes, wishing that they were open so I could see that lovely green color again. It would replace the nasty blue-purple that sat underneath them. The sensitive flesh looked as if someone had planted a fist right under both of her eyes.

My skin tingled at the sudden thought of someone treating her in that way. She looked like nothing more than a paper flower, dainty and broken on the bathroom floor.

I recoiled from my thoughts. I was not interested with anything that had to do with her. In fact, I hated her.

I bit my tongue at the thought of hating such a delicate being. She already disliked herself I'm guessing, so being an asshole would just make her life worse. I would tolerate her.

I crouched down to slide my hands under her body. The slightest skin-on-skin contact caused me to reel back. She was so soft, yet so cold. To be fair, the floor wasn't warm. My larger hands found their way behind her knees and back before lifting her up. She was so light, so so light. It worried me slightly, but I pushed the worry away. Tolerance.

Her head rolled into my chest, causing me to wince. I squeezed my eyes shut and opened them again. Her body shook involuntarily in my arms. My heart wanted to keep her close, to crawl into the twin bed and pull the covers over us both, to keep her warm. Common sense took over and told me to lay her gently in her bed. I listened, tucking her in like a child before returning back to my schoolwork.

She was going to be the death of me.