Some Scars Never Fade

Chapter Thirty Three (HH)

New chapter! :)

*Isaac’s Point of View*

Chris made decisions concerning me and Sam.

She let us stay the night in her room and she bunked with Darkedge- the one named Dylan.

I woke up around seven in the morning, feeling unwell from the smoke intake last night. Leaving Sam to sleep, I slipped into the hallway and went back into the room where we were all originally at after the fire- most likely the living room.

I was surprised that Chris- Conartist- was a girl. Not that a girl couldn’t fight that good, but her technique… Wasn’t very feminine.

I saw her laying on the couch, alone in the living room. I hated to wake her up, but I really needed to use a phone; my cell phone was currently at the place me, Sam and Ally- Libra- were living.

She seemed to be having a nightmare. Sweat was blossoming on her forehead, and her furrowed eyebrows indicated her distress. I hesitated; maybe I should just wait.

When her back arched in distress, I gave in.

Kneeling down beside her, I put my hands on her shoulder lightly and shook, gentle but persistent.

“Chris?” I asked softly, “Chris?”

She awoke after a moment, instantly staring up at me. Shouldn’t she have cringed away at my sudden appearing? At my comfort being near her when we had only just met?

Not that I was complaining.

“Hey, sorry to wake you,” I apologized.

She smiled at me and ran her fingers through her messy hair.

“No, thank you,” she said warmly, “It wasn’t pleasant to be asleep.”

She yawned.

“Is there something you needed?” she asked me.

“Oh, yeah, can I borrow a phone for a bit? I need to call Ally- or Libra, as Sam put it,” I told her sheepishly.

She sat up and I sat back to give her room as she rummaged in her pocket for one.

“It’s in the kitchen,” she mumbled, getting up and leading me around the corner.

She picked it up off the table and handed it to me.

Thanking her, I sat down at the kitchen table and dialed Ally’s cell phone number.

While the dial was going, I watched Chris get supplies out for pancakes.

“You like pancakes?” she asked me.

“Yeah, but you don’t have to make anything,” I told her, blushing slightly.