Reverie [Bruno Mars - Editing]

Chapter twenty

Chapter twenty

A pounding headache was what I woke up to. I was entirely sore, especially in my legs. Attempting to stretch made me grimace. I was alone in the bed. I don't even know how I made it here, the last thing I remembered was Bruno's piano playing.

I rubbed my eyes, focusing on the sunlit room. Once I managed to sit up the door to the bathroom opened, and my breath was stolen from me. Only a towel was wrapped around his waist and water droplets ran down his shoulders, his chest. He was still wearing his crucifix. His eyes met mine, and immediately shifted away. His hand found the back of his neck and rubbed it. A nervous gesture?

“I always leave my clothes out here,” was all he said before opening the wardrobe, his back against me, the muscles in them flexing as he reached inside. “You got a headache?”

I nodded but remembered he was still turned around. “Yeah.”

“A shower helps.” He turned back around, clothes in hand. I noticed he was waiting for me to go into the bathroom so he could dress. I fumbled off the bed. It took me longer than usual to stand and was about to pass him to enter the bathroom but noticed a long streak of dark red running down his arm. Blood.

“Bruno what happened?” I tried holding his arm but he jerked away from me. I was surprised. “It's nothing,” he said, not looking me in the eyes. “When one of the workers grabbed me, the girl had claws. I guess I accidentally reopened the cut. . .”

I retrieved a rag from the bathroom and wet it a little under the faucet. I held my hand out to Bruno, and he hesitated before putting his arm in my palm. The cut ran alongside the anchor that inked his skin. I wiped the trail of red until it was gone. “I love this.” I brushed my fingers against the anchor. “Strength?”

“Yeah.” He met my eyes and swallowed hard. “Strength.” He pulled away from me in that moment, and I stared at him for a few seconds before eventually going into the bathroom. I slammed the door behind me, resting my back against it and put my face in my hands. It was evident.

He regretted last night.

And the thought was so heart wrenching, that I simply had to let it go, and cover it up with an unfound excuse.

I met my own eyes in the mirror. There was still something different about me, somehow, like whatever changed within caused my exterior to change along with it. I looked away from my reflection and used one hand to unbotton my shirt because I could barely lift my other arm. When the shirt slid off me, a purple and black bruise covered my right shoulder. My wrists were the same color.

I stripped out of the rest of my clothes and turned on the shower. The shower was more like water coming from a hose more than anything but at least it ran hot, and my headache turned into a dull thud. Having no choice, I wore the same clothes. There was no problem with putting on my bottoms, it was the top that I struggled with. Pulling my bruised arm behind me was too painful. I had no experience of putting on a bra with only one hand.

I made up my mind quickly before I could change it, but honestly, I just didn't care anymore.

I cracked open the door of the bathroom. He was toweling his hair. “Um, Bruno?” He turned around, his dark eyes on me. “I have this bruise on my shoulder. . .” I went suddenly shy, and regretted this. I took a deep breath and pushed myself. “I can barely lift my arm and I can't clasp my bra with only one arm.” He looked at me for a long time. I didn't even know I was holding my breath until I let it go. He nodded once, and I stepped back into the bathroom. It wasn't like he was going to see my breasts or anything, I just needed it fastened.