Don't Give Up On Me [Book 2]

Chapter 31

you can't

have too much

of anything or

you will ruin

it

if you want to

keep things

beautiful and poignant

you must find the time

to miss themselves

-Christopher Poindexter

I closed my eyes as the knife left my back and let out a breath that I didn't know I had been holding. With hesitation he let go of me. His hands moved down to his sides as his head hung low. He was shaking like a leaf, I haven't ever seen him in such a vulnerable state. Slowly, my hand touched his, I wanted to get rid of the knife. Without any protest, he opened his hand, letting out a sharp breath as he handed it to me. I gently threw it into the corner of the room, wanting it to be as far away as possible.

Gently, I laced my fingers with his, then I tugged on him and sat him onto his bed. He watched me as I moved across the room, opening his drawer where he kept his clothes. I tore some basketball-shorts out of it, closing it again and padded over to him again. He stared up to me in a way in which I could have sworn I saw the child in him again. He looked so much younger than actually was. Without any words spoken, I walked over to the light and turned it off. Then, I walked over to where I remembered him be and reached my hand out, only to make it collide with his hard chest. I slit it down to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head, as gentle as possible. When I was done, felt him move a bit. I was shaking because of how nerve wrecking this was. Then, I knelt down in front of him tugging on his belt, before successfully getting it open. Tugging some more, his pants were off. By the time I was done, I could hear him sobbing. I acted as if I couldn't hear them, his sobs, because they were muffled, so he probably didn't want me to hear them. I pushed his legs gently into the basketball-shorts.

"Lift up" I told him. He obeyed, his sniffles and sobs becoming louder, just exactly the way it was so long time ago. But, this time it was different, it wasn't me who got dressed, it was him. It wasn't me who was under shock and needed comfort; it was him. It wasn't him who had to be strong for both of us, it was me.

I couldn't see a thing in that darkness that surrounded us, all I could sense was him under my palms. Slowly, I pushed him back on that dusty bed and covered him with the blanket, just like he had done

three years ago. He didn't say anything as I crawled into bed with him, making sure to keep my distance, knowing he needed it right now. We lay in silence, hearing each other's ragged breaths, no words needed. We were both too confused to say anything.
I thought he loved me, then why would he want to kill me? But, I was glad that he blamed the right person once and not himself, like he would have done three years ago. He was finally facing the truth, even though he made up whatever he thought me to be. I never intended anything bad for him, never.

Suddenly, without any warning, he pulled me into his hard, tattooed chest, engulfing me with his arms immediately.

"Hayden wha-"

"Shhh."

He gently kissed my temple, then lay back down to nuzzle his head into my hair.

"Remember how I locked you into a janitor's closet?" He whispered.

"Yes, I ended up spending eleven hours in there before finally at eight, a women, came to check if there was any bleach left." I told him. To my surprise he snickered, turning me around towards him, so that we were face to face, even though I could only make out where his face could roughly had been.

"I forgot to let you out again, Steve was occupying me enough already." He told me honestly.

"Thanks, you're such a gentleman, locking a random girl into a closet." I teases, feeling how our mood suddenly changed.

"I locked you into it for a reason, though." He told me.

"Oh and what reason?"

"Steve was looking for another girl and I didn't want it to be you." He took a deep breath," But then in the end he took you anyways."

I shuddered as I remembered everything Steve had done to us, to me. The way his cold, brown eyes were staring into mine, the way his rough hands felt.

"Hey, sh, it's okay." Hayden whispered, tightening his grip around my waist, so that I was now almost fully laying on his chest.

This was the first time I was truly in his arms again, he was holding me together, not I was holding him. He traced his thumb along my bare arm.

"Everything's okay." He reassured me.

I bit a smile back as I nuzzled my head into his chest, hoping this would be the way we were going to stay forever. I hoped we would never have to face reality again.

"I know."

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