little nothings || a.b.

2.8

ANDY

"We need to get this glass out of your arm." Dani says while examining me. I shake her off, "Don't touch me. I'm fine." After minutes of all of them arguing with me, Dani finally gets up and leaves. I sit back on the bed and close my eyes. 

"Who's Natalie?" Mark asks.

"Why does it matter?" I return a question.

"Obviously it's a pretty big deal to you, so I'd like to know what all of the trouble is about. Especially since you just broke some guys nose over it."

I sighed and sat up, a little too quickly. Mark had to catch me as I almost blacked out. After I was back to normal, or as normal as I could be in the moment, I took a deep breath and began to tell the story,

"When I was fifteen, I was desperately in love with a girl named Natalie. She loved to paint, and she was the most joyful person I had ever met. I loved her so much. We had been together for about a year when she left to go to a party, and I stayed home because I was sick. Later that night she didn't come back to my house, she just went straight home which was a bit strange for her. She seemed really distant for a while, a long while. That's when word got around that she was pregnant. She was raped at a party and got pregnant. Well, she says it wasn't rape, but deep in my heart I know she was saying that so they wouldn't press charges. She would have felt terrible if that happened. She was so sweet. You know who it was? It was Derek. Derek hates me and he always has, for some reason I've never come to understand. I contacted her once again and we were close for those nine months. I watched her go through hell with all of the pain and sickness that her small, fragile body almost couldn't take. When she eventually got into labor, she looked so sick. My gut told me that she wasn't going to make it. Where was Derek in this situation? Nowhere. Not to be seen. I held her hand. I watched her sacrifice her own life in order not to kill one that was inside of her that was made but something beyond her control. I love her for it. I love her ten times more for it. I just wish she were here so I could love her, but no. I've moved on. I've pushed it to the past. It's been years, and my feelings have faded. I just hate when people bring up the topic because the pain that comes with the memory of the death that someone had so much life to live is almost unbearable for anyone."

I took a deep huff and looked at Mark. A frown was set upon his face, "Wow. I had no idea. I'm sorry man." He says while coming over and slapping me on the back in a supportive way. I almost want to slap him in the face in a not so supportive way for making me look so vulnerable and weak.

We sit in silence for a while as I stare down at my hands. Blood drips down my arm causing me to become very woozy and just steadily boils in my veins as anger for myself builds. It also builds towards so many painful memories, and I feel like I want to smash something. 

Just in that moment the doorknob turns and I look up to see a wide eyed Scarlet looking at me. Her face is bare with no makeup and her hair is messy as if she had just gotten out of bed. That's the Scarlet I like to see. My heart sinks at my upcoming thoughts. 

What is she going to think? More importantly, why is she here? I stay away from her because I know I love her, and every time I love someone it destroys them.

"Andy," Her sweet voice rings in my ears. I can feel the change in it though. She knows this isn't right. Her eyes never leave mine as Mark gets up to meet Dani. The door shuts loudly and she jumps, reminding me of how fragile she is.

Just like Natalie.

"We need to get you cleaned up." She walks closer to me and I almost want to run. 

"I don't want you to see me like this." I croak. I smell very strongly of smoke and alcohol. I know she likes neither of the things, in fact she probably has another headache.

"Here. I won't look." She says while covering up her eyes. I took the time to finally give in a small smile. She always lightens up bad situations. I look back at the floor and don't say a word. She shouldn't be here. After a few seconds, she removes her hands.

She takes my hand in both of hers. I love our size difference, honestly. Lightly and carefully, almost as if she was scared.

She is. I can see it in her pure eyes. 

A bullet goes straight to my heart, which is usually armored. It's not in this situation. She's never been in this situation. She's never around people like this, but she's here. She's here at somewhere around five in the morning, helping me.

I stand up carefully and tower above her. She stays quiet and begins walking to the door slowly. I try my hardest to keep myself straight so she doesn't get worried. The way she looked at me with my busted knuckles and bloody clothes... She's never met an aggressive person before.

I am scaring her.