Hold Tight

Eight.

 "Amy?!" A familiar voice screamed from downstairs.

I jolted up from my slumber, realizing my bed was empty. Where did Brandon go? I stood up and ran down the stairs. I ran around looking, as I entered the kitchen, there stood my mother by the counter, and Brandon standing by the stove making breakfast. "Morning, sleepy head," my mother said in a sweet tone in her voice.

"Morning?" I replied with confusion.

I would expect my mother to be furious seeing a boy in her home, screaming at my face asking why he was in my bed and sleeping next to me. This was different. Brandon and my mom were having a good conversation while cooking my breakfast. She handed him the plates as he piled the pancakes onto them. She brought over my plate and sat it down in front of me. She flashed me a smile before walking over to bring the other two plates over. Brandon followed behind and took a seat next to me. I'm completely weirded out by my mother's attitude, it's strange and very unlike her.

I took small bites out of my pancakes. The taste melts in my mouth for how delicious they tasted, I was in love with it. I looked over at my mother who was looking through her phone. She dialed numbers in before putting it up to her ear. She walked out of the room, picked up her breef case before walking out the door. I looked over at Brandon who was stuffing his face with pancakes. "So, do you know what her deal was?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" he asked with curiousity.

"Well, usually my mother would be screaming at the fact I had a boy sleeping in my bed, in the house in general," I explained.

"Believe me, she was fucking pissed off when she saw me," he responded, "but I explained everything to her. Sure it didn't start of very good. We were screaming at each other, blaming each other, and so on. It made me feel extremely awkward, and very, very nervous. But I threw out the fact that if I wasn't here, she'd be the one coming home finding you hurt or even dead. Then she stopped, apolijized, and continued with her work."

I nodded with a smile. He stood up from the counter, took our plates and walked over to the counter. I stood up as he walked back over, wrapping his arms around me as I wrap mine around his neck. He rest his forehead against mine, making me hungry for the taste of his lips. After a few minutes, his lips were pressed against mine. It was heated, instense, rough. He pulled my body closer to his, making me want more. After a few minutes, I pulled away, breathing heavily. My stomach was full of butterflies, and knots built up. My mind was confusing me for what I want. "Let's go upstairs," I whispered as I bite down on my bottom lip.

He nodded in agreement, taking my hand as I lead him up the stairs. We walk into my room, closing the door behind us. I lean against it as he moves forward towards me. He smashes his lips onto mine, as he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around his hips as he pushes me against the wall, kissing down my neck. Soft moans escape from my mouth, as my body lightens and feels free and hungry. His lips meet with mine again as he carried me towards the bed. He placed me down softly, before he climbed ontop of me. He continues to kiss me.

I began to feel my breathing getting out of control. My head started to feel heavy, my stomach was full of knots, my throat felt like it was plugged, there was no way or avaliability of air entering or escaping my throat. I started to shake slightly, soon enough Brandon pulled away, and sat me up. "Baby breath, breath," he panicked.

My throat suddenly opened up and let my breathing slow down. I coughed hard and loud trying to catch my breath once again. I burried my head into my hands as I broke down into tears. "I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," I sobbed into my hands.

"Don't worry about it," he whispered as he wrapped his arm around me, rubbing my side, "I want you to be comfortable, and I want you to be alright if we're going to do anything like this. As I told you before, I don't want to force you to do anything."

"I'm, I'm just worried of what you'll think," I mumbled looking up at him with teary eyes.

"Of your scars? That's not going to change the fact that I'm in love with you, Amy," he said, "Your scars show your battles. I think you are beautiful. You, yourself, inside and out, are beautiful."

He pressed his lips against mine before we continued on what we were doing before. He lifted my shirt, revealing the scars on my stomach and sides. I took deep breaths as he kissed every single part with scars and cuts. He then moved up to my arm and wrist for where his lips pressed lightly against them. This touched my heart seeing how he respects me and my battles. The knots in my stomach loosen, and the butterflies are released, going nuts, causing me to smile widely down at him. He lifted his head, flashing a smile.

"I love you so much, Brandon," I said.

"And I love you more, Amy," he replied.

I have now fallen to believe his actions and words are true. That is, until his phone buzzed with Amber's name appearing on the screen, making my heart shatter. I thought things were going amazing. My mine filled with a lot of thoughts, especially the thought of ending myself. Maybe it's for the best, I'm just being used. I peaked from behind him reading the message:

AMBER THOMAS: hows fuckin amy goin? lol. hope she enjoys what shes got rn, all shell ever get right? lol.

I felt dizzy, my heart ache. My stomach aches with the constant feeling of wanting to be sick. I'm such a fucking fool.