Holding on to Carter/✔️

Chapter Five

Carter’s POV
    My shower was cold. It always has been. It was not only better for you body, but it helped me not crave the warmth of love. I don’t know how, but it helped, maybe it was because it had helped me solidify the emptiness in my life.
As I stood under the cold water I felt tears prick my eyes as I remembered that just last night I was lying in this tub lifeless. And that just last night I almost died and that just last night I had almost lost everything. And it was just now that I realized that I may need warmth more than ever. And I think I’ll get that warmth from the stranger named Jesse Reynolds.
    I turned the water off and grabbed the towel before sliding the curtain back. There he was, facing the door, his head against the wood. His hands in his pockets, his shoulders slump in defeat. He looked broken and I was only looking at his back. I leaned to my right to see more of his face, which was scrunched up from what I could tel, like he was trying to repress something. I sniffed again and rubbed my nose and that’s when I heard him breath in shakily. I gulped a little and got dressed quickly, throwing my hair into the towel and then took a shaky step towards him.  
    “OK, I’m done.” I whispered. He paused before pushing himself off the door and then opened it. He let me walk under his arm and followed me to my room. I threw my clothes in the bin in my closet and then turned to him. He sat on my bed, paging through a book he had found in my desk. His shoulders were still slumped and his sniffs were a little more frequent. I climbed onto my bed on the opposite side before I paused to look at him once again. I didn’t know what to do. It was obvious he was hurting, it was obvious he was sad. But… But what do I do?
    So I did what I think that would help, something that had been completely out of my character and against anything and everything I had lived by religiously. I crawled over to his side, my knees touching the side of his leg, wrapping my arms around his neck and hid my face in his neck. His arms wrapped around me instantly and pulled me onto his lap, hugging me closer. His breath was shaky, his arms tight around me, he had wrapped me up, almost like I was a fragile package. Through his hug I feel like I met him, truly met him. I felt what he was, I felt that he cared and that he was here. I felt everything. I felt that he wanted to help, I felt that his hurt was deep, deep like mine. That it was scarred into the tissue of our body’s.
    I could hear the sadness in his tears and I could feel his pain. This boy that I was holding onto was broken. It was like somebody had stomped on him, shattering him to pieces. A glass figure, it shattered just like he had in this moment. And that was him, he was shattered. I held on tighter, wanting to comfort him, that if I held on tight enough the pieces of Jesse Reynolds would glue themselves back together. I was afraid that if I let go they would fall through my arms, breaking themselves even more once hitting the floor. So I held tightly as long as I could and so did he. I think he needed to hold onto me, I think this simple action may have just saved some piece of him. And I hope it did. I hoped I helped this stranger, because he had helped me.
    I think this stranger is slowly giving me a reason to live, even if I’ve known him for a day. And I think I need him, and he needs me. So maybe just this once I’ll let someone in.
And I think this is where I knew that I wouldn’t be able to leave him like this, a broken glass figure.