The Bad Boy's Sweetheart ✓

08.Her

There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.
Laurell K. Hamilton, Mistral's Kiss (Merry Gentry, #5)

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Listen to run to you by Whitney Huston

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I was still practicing my newest piece on the piano, pouring my heart into the music sheets and trying out the keys to perfect it. The upcoming winter annual ball was adding pressure as it was only a few days away and I had to practice hard before the event.

My mind kept wandering to Ryson, the mysterious guy who had caught my eye. Despite his stoic demeanor, I had noticed a spark in his eyes when he had seen me play before. I couldn't help but wonder what he was really like.

As Mrs. Davidson reminded me that the music room was closing, I closed the piano lid and gathered my things - music sheets and a textbook on key control - and bid her a polite goodbye.

Stepping outside, I took in the fresh air and the beautiful scenery around me, enjoying the woodsy scent and the hue across the ocean beside the forest.

Suddenly, I was taken aback as a rough hand clamped over my mouth, preventing me from screaming. The stench emanating from the person holding me made me nauseous, and I struggled to free myself. My tears flowed uncontrollably down my cheeks as I trembled with fear. The violet interruption had traumatized my body, and my heart pounded frantically in my chest.

"Mom, why do you have to go too soon?" The seven-year-old me said as I held her hand on the hospital bed.

"Because heaven couldn't wait for me." She smiled and kissed my forehead.

"Can I join too?" I asked with a pout.

"No, you will at the end but just at the right time." She smiled.

I'm so sorry mom, I was going to join you now before I made my dreams come true.

"Let her go." A voice of an angel called out to save me. Through my blurry vision, I saw the dark brown curls and safe amber eyes of Ryson. I was going to be safe.

"I'm not going to repeat myself." Ryson snapped, and the wind picked up, blowing my hair everywhere, making it hard to see.

It seemed like it was the end, with my tied hands and the fat man holding me. My eyes drifted up to the sky.

The man let me go, and I struggled to breathe. I didn't have my inhaler, and I was freaking out. Ryson grabbed my hand, and we walked together. I weakly squeezed his hand.

"I can't...can't breathe," I stuttered as I choked, closing my eyes. The man strolled away as more people filled the streets of Michigan. Ryson was about to jump on the man, but my hand stopped him as my lungs painfully constricted.

Ryson lifted me up and carried me in a bridal style rush to a nearby hospital. Luckily, the Michigan medical center was beside the school, and we arrived in just two minutes.

"Evange, try to breathe as much as you can." Panic was evident in his voice, and it made me smile briefly because that was the first time I had seen him show emotion. Panic for me.

"You called me Evange," I exhaled heavily as my chest constricted and my eyes drooped.

"Don't talk, we're almost here." His worry filled me with hope, and I felt grateful to have him by my side. Maybe we could be friends.

Who was I kidding? I liked him. But we wouldn't happen. All the odds were against us, and I didn't want to be the one to change him or break his walls.

As I struggled to breathe, I couldn't help but feel guilty for causing such panic in Ryson. My eyelids felt heavy and I could feel myself slipping away into the darkness, but his voice was the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.

"Keep your eyes open for me, Evange," he pleaded, and I knew I had to try. I tried to focus on his face, but my vision was hazy and my lungs were burning. Ryson's face was etched with fear and worry, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth spread through me. I had never seen this side of him before.

As the medical staff rushed to my aid, Ryson's hands were shaking beside me, his eyes fixed on my face. I could feel the oxygen mask being placed over my nose and mouth, and as I took in deep breaths of air, I felt myself starting to relax.

But then, as the medical staff began to wheel me away, Ryson's face was suddenly blocked from my view. I could hear him shouting and demanding to be let in, and my heart ached at the thought of leaving him behind.

As the darkness consumed me, I couldn't help but think about Ryson's vulnerable side. He wasn't so bad after all; he just felt things differently.