A/N: I haven't been on in a while, sorry :( Enjoy this chapter though!!!!<3
The car ride was silent and kind of awkward. I'd figured that he wouldn't want to speak, probably embarrassed by what had just happened. I was still confused. He seemed vulnerable. I mean, you'd have to be very broken at a point to tell a complete stranger about your life. It was almost like he was high or drunk. Which would clearly explain the alcohol and cigarette smell on him. On the passengers seat to my right, I heard silent weeping. Since I had to keep my eyes on the road,I made quick glances at him, checking to make sure he was alright.
As I took the last left turn and onto my street, I noticed Blaze in a peaceful sleep. Trying not to piss him of, I shook his shoulder lightly. "Blaze, we're at my place now." Just like at the beach, no movement. I poked his hand and he jolted up, swatting away at the air. Damn, he was scared. When he realized it was just me, he stopped at calmed down. I took off his seatbelt, realizing he was trying to hop out the car but didn't bother with the seatbelt.
"You got a big ass house." Blaze began slurring and muttering to himself on the way to the front porch. In truth, this was my aunts house. My parents died when I was at the age of 3 and I was forced to live with my aunt. She didn't want me, but later accepted the fact that I had nowhere else to go. Most of the time, she was out clubbing, doing shit she couldn't remember in the morning; always bringing some dirty old man who was just as drunk as her. I've had many bad memories here, and I hate to reflect on them.
I took out my copy of the house key and unlocked the dark oak door. We stepped inside, darkness surrounding us. I flicked on the hallway light, guiding us into the house. Blaze stumbled into the living room, flopping down on the sofa. I ran upstairs to the service closet to get a blanket and pillow, then returned downstairs. Since there was a 50% chance Blaze would wake up with a hangover, I decided to sleep downstairs with him. After tucking him in, I watched him quickly fall asleep. Then crawling into a ball on the spoon shaped chair, I fell asleep, wet clothes and all.
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Sometime in the early morning, I heard a skin crawling sound coming from the bathroom. "Fuck, that's real sick." Blaze was awake and pretty hungover. More retching cane from the guest bedroom down the hall. "Oh God, this is gross."
I got up, almost falling over, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I made my way down the hallway, and walked into the bathroom seeing Blaze on the ground. He was laying against the bath tub, head leaning back, eyes closed. I walked over to him and slouched down against the bathtub. Looking over at him, I began to talk to him. "Blaze, you don't look too fresh." He groaned really loudly and opened his eyes to look back at me. "You should really become a detective, Sherlock," he grumbled sarcastically. I laughed humorlessly. "I have a hangover and feel like shit."
"Have you finished puking your guts out or do you need some more time?" Just then he leaned over to the toilet and puked again. He gave me a thumbs up and got up from his spot on the ground. I walked out to the living room while he rinsed his mouth. I yawned widely, the kind that makes your eyes form tears. Blaze walked back to the lounge area and plopped back onto the couch. "Headache, bro?" He glared then nodded. I got up walking to the kitchen getting the Advil and returning. Grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, I headed back to Blaze and gave him the items of relief (that's what she said(;). After twenty minutes, he appeared to look better than he was earlier.
Suddenly, I jumped up, scaring the both of us. "Let's make chocolate chip pancakes!" Groaning once again, he rolled his eyes. I dragged him off of the couch in order to make him stand up. Failing, we ended up on the ground, him on top of me and my body awkwardly required beneath his. I looked up at him, not sure what was going on. But one thing kind of lead to another and I peered down at his lips. His skin was already pale enough, but his lips were a pink pale; almost vampire-deadly. His piercings should be considered a sin, due to their hotness. My eyes traveled back up to his which I saw were staring at my own lips. "So how about those pancakes now?" I mumbled looking away. "Uh yeah, sounds good." Blaze stood up, scratching his head nervously. One thing you have to understand about me is that I've never had a boyfriend, nonetheless kissed somebody. Yeah, I know, a seventeen year old girl who will probably end up living with cats.
I pulled the chocolate chips and pancake mix out off the pantry, and the milk and eggs out of the fridge and set it on the counter. I pulled a pancake skillet from the cupboard and had Blaze mix all of the ingredients in the bowl.
After eating and cleaning up, Blaze and I sat down, trying to ignore the awkward atmosphere. Oh well, I thought, giving in. Anything I do, it will still be awkward. "So now that you're feeling better and you're head doesn't hurt add much, do you remember what you said to me while you were drunk?"
He looked up at the ceiling as if in thought. "Nah, I can't remember anything. I remember eating pizza, but that's all."
Now I was just debating on whether to tell him or not about what he told me; something so personal, it made me feel like a stranger. "Well, last night after I'd found you, you were in a dark ally and you smelt like alcohol and cigarettes. So I sat down with you because you looked like you needed to talk about something that was bothering you. And then you told me somethings that really," I began crying a little, imagining what he had said last night, "got to me, and I don't why that happened to you because that doesn't deserve to happen to anybody, even if they are greatly hated by someone they love. What you told me last night, I well never let it leave my mind. And I know that the last thing you could ask for would be pity. I know exactly how pity feels and its not a fucking good feeling."
Now that I was sitting right in front of him, telling him all of this, he just broke. Maybe it was because of how I was crying, or the fact that he was forced to live his life in hell. I leaned in, close to his ear, and whispered. "About you being raped, I was raped too, and I know exactly how it feels to not have anyone there for me, just people who give me pitying looks. And it hurts, like I'm the one who's fucked up. I'm not fucked up and neither are you." I pulled back and looked into his eyes. So many emotions lay beneath them- sadness, depression, hate, anger, loneliness, love- the little things and feelings you would experience after a conversation like this.
I looked down, not able to look at his gaze anymore, my eyes threatening to spill tears again. "Come here." He signaled for me to lay on the couch. I lay down next to him, on the small couch, the world suddenly seeming much colder, but me having Blaze to keep me warm. I finally settled comfortably on the couch and realized there was like no space, so our bodies were practically mushed together. I felt him wipe away my tears, and then whisper. "You're never alone." He wrapped his arms around my body, and me to him. It was a friendly gesture, but very soothing. And we both feel asleep like that, in the comfort of each other.
