Only With You

02 | celestial

02 | CELESTIAL

positioned in or relating to the sky, or outer space as observed in astronomy.

☆

I WAKE UP TO A FACE above mine, multiplying as he moves like a glitched film in twenty frames-per-second. So many pairs of blue-grey eyes. Water drips from the ends of his dark hair and onto my face. Ryan?

Rain pounds the pavement beside me. Everything—the black clouds, the brick of The Black Inlet's exterior—is distorted. He delicately touches my shoulder.

"Hey, are you okay? Aria, come on, we need to get you out of the rain."

"That bitch!" I jolt upright, and Ryan jumps away. A dull ache throbs through my cheekbone and grows more intense as my cognizance returns.

"Hey, not so fast." He hovers his hands over my shoulders. "You should really take it easy."

"How long was I out for?"

"I don't know, I was just locking up when I found you. Here, let me help." He hoists me to my feet and steadies me with a hand on my lower back. I fist his soaking wet shirt. "Easy now," he says. "Come on, I've got you."

"Fuck, I don't feel good."

"Are you gonna be sick?"

"No. No, I need to get home."

"You were assaulted. I should call the cops."

"No! No cops. Please. I'm fine."

He hesitates. "I'm the one who served you. If you don't get home safe, it's on me."

Way too sick to respond, I stay silent.

"All right, I can give you a ride," he says. "That okay?"

"Please," I manage to say.

Ryan practically has to bend his body in half to get low enough to sling my arm around his shoulder. After a moment of frustrated grunts, he picks me up bridal style like I'm made of nothing. "Sorry," he says, "but it's easier this way."

The scent of sandalwood and rain envelops me when I hook my arms around his neck. I slip into blackness again. The next thing I know, I smell pine. I open my eyes to see a Tim Horton's cup and a National Geographic magazine on the center console of a car. Ryan gets into the driver's side. Rain drums the roof, and a flicker of lightning illuminates his face: eyes filled with worry, a frown tugging at his lips. Oh God, what am I doing here?

"Who did this to you?" he asks.

"This chick... she broke my phone, and my idiot ass decided to say something. She sucker punched me."

"What did she look like?"

"Tall, brunette, hot as hell, but a total bitch."

"Jean jacket? Redheaded friend?"

"That's the one."

He scratches behind his ear. "Damn it, I was worried I overserved her..."

I drunkenly laugh. "You overserved me too, remember?" Ryan blinks at me, so I mumble an apology. Not the time to be making jokes, idiot.

His hand reaches toward me, and I allow him to brush my hair from my cheek so he can observe the wound. "It doesn't look that bad, but how are you feeling? Do you need a hospital?"