Barefoot

Part Twelve

She opens her eyes, fluttering her eyelids as she becomes aware of her surroundings. A dull pain begins throbbing in her head and she winces. She turns her head slightly and sees the boy her heart loves fast asleep with his head on her.

His head is resting on her stomach, one of her hands clasped tightly in both of his. She reaches down with her other hand, a soft smile on her lips, and smoothes his hair from his face.

He wakes up instantly, his beautiful, oceanic eyes meeting hers. He sits up and onto the bed, leaning over her. She's still leaning against the pillows, the bed up into a position between sitting up and lying down. He keeps his weight off of her and presses his lips to hers. "My god," he whispers. "I thought I lost you."

She smiles faintly. "You could never lose me."

His intense eyes stare into hers. "I almost did."

She shakes her head, ignoring the pains like a hammer in her skull. "You never will. I'm always right here," she says, pressing her hand above his beating heart. "And you have my heart. Even if I'm no longer here physically, my heart is right her, beating with yours."

He has no words, so just leans down and kisses her again, tasting the strawberry on her lips again. She kisses back, not putting near as much pressure, and he realizes she must be exhausted. "How are you feeling?" He asks her.

"Kinda like I got run over by a car," she jokes, but he doesn't laugh. "Too soon?"

"Too soon," he confirms.

"Sorry," she says sheepishly. "I'm feeling okay." He gives her a serious look and she smiles. "Honest. I have a headache, but other than that, I feel pretty much fine. Just a little sore."

"Well, I would think you would have a headache. You hit the ground head enough to break the helmet."

"I broke the helmet?" She gasps.

He nods. "Split it right down the middle and shattered the visor. That's how you cut your face." He whispers the last sentence, brushing his thumb gently over one of the cuts on her face.

"Is there a mirror in here?" She asks suddenly.

He looks around, spotting a small hand-held mirror on the counter in the bathroom. "What for?"

"I want to see how bad my face is." He gets up and retrieves the mirror, placing it directly into her hand, guiding it up to face her. She sucks in a breath and tears well in her eyes, and he's afraid she has done something to hurt herself. "I look terrible," she whispers. "Oh my god, I don't even recognize myself."

He takes the mirror from her easily. It slips easily from between her fingers as she stares at where it was, still seeing her face in the reflection. She had deep purple bruising on the left side of her face and the worst part was around her eyes. Her left cheek was swollen and puffy and there were a total of three cuts that needed to be stitched, as well as a handful of small scrapes.

He puts his hand on the right side of her face and makes her eyes meet his. "You don't look terrible," he states firmly. "You are beautiful inside and out. The bruises will go away and scars will fade, but the world is fortunate that you're still here. Life would be much, much darker without the beauty and light from you."

A tear runs down her cheek, and he's not sure if it's from how she thinks she looks or from his words. "You're truly beautiful," he says. "The most colorful, life-filled person I've ever met." He smoothes her messy hair from her face. "Remember how I said I was falling in love with you?" He asks.

She nods. He takes a deep breath, his exhale fanning over her lips, making her smile. "Well, Flower, I know now. I love you. I love you so, so much."