Shy Eyes

22

Waking up felt like living a memory. Paisley used to wake up in Jonny's bed all the time. But that had felt like it was years ago. Long enough that it no longer felt like reality, or routine to be waking up that way.

It also felt really different. New. She knew that things weren't going to be the same ever again. That things between her and Jonny wouldn't be the same. They had something that scared her, excited her, confused her, made her happy. It was something more. Something she knew she always wanted in the corner of her mind. It was now real and somehow, absolutely nothing felt wrong about it. It was as if he was the love of her life ever since she was just a little girl. He was never just her "brother". He was her best friend. Her heart. Jonny felt the same way.

Paisley turned her head and looked up at Jonny, his breathing soft and peaceful. He hadnt looked that way when he laid in a hospital bed. In a hospital bed, he looked empty, like a body laying on a mattress. A corpse. A shell.
How could she not tell that he was awake, and hearing her every word, trying desperately to reach out to her?

She closed her eyes allowing his body heat to comfort her. She was scared of people but with him every fear was gone. His arms around her felt amazing, like when you put your hands over a fire in the winter time.

Jonny stirred and woke up a few minutes later and he adjusted and slightly tightened his arm around her.

After a minute or two of just enjoying each others company, Paisley became more aware of her senses and grew uncomfortable, being in that house. The house where she was tormented. The house where she lost every ounce of self worth she had. Where everything was a nightmare.

She tried to sit up, and winced, almost shreiking in pain, as her stab wound screamed at her.

Jonny got up immediately and moved in front of her. She looked down to see blood seeping through her shirt. Jonny cursed to himself and before Paisley could protest, he picked her up and set her down before helping her walk to the bathroom.

He sat her down on the sink in the bathroom. He lifted her shirt to see the wound. She felt self conscious but was very distracted by pain all the same.

Her stitches had ripped open and a small stream of blood was making its way down her stomach and onto her leg.

"I must have turned wrong in my sleep." She whispered.

His fingers gently touch the skin around the stab wound as he began to space out for a minute.

"Jonny, are you OK?" She said, snapping him from his daze.

He looked up at her for a minute before standing abruptly.

"Don't hurt yourself ever again." He demanded, his eyebrows furrowing into an angry expression.

She looked down and away from him, ashamed of herself.

Too much was happening for her to register anything. She didn't know if she was okay or not. She knew that she was happy that she had Johnny back, but after Asher's death, she didn't know when she'd really be okay again. She had her home back, her life line, but she had lost her savior, her guardian, who kept her strong when she lost everything.

And when she wasn't okay, she hurt herself.

"I'm sorry." She whispered.

He pulled her into an embrace, smelling her hair.

"I won't let you hurt yourself again." She could tell that it angered him by the tone of his voice. He hated that she had done that. He was livid at the fact that he wasn't there to prevent the new scars on her wrists, her hips, and probably other places he couldn't see. It made her feel guilty. Like she betrayed him.