The Broken

Nineteen: Dilemma

"Blessed are the ones who entrust their lives to no one."
~~~~~~~~~

Few days passed until Michael's state was stabilized. And Pamela remained by his side through it all. She took care of him while Harry's shocked eyes never left her.

————
When he finally woke up, he was struck with a discomfort in his chest. Flickering his eyes open once then twice, he scanned the dark room and then himself, recalling the last acute sensation of pain ripping through his chest. He tried moving before he realized a hand was laid on his.

Her hand.

While she was asleep.

He didn't dare move at first. He will never have this moment again; thus he shut his eyes trying to prolong the sensation of her hand on his. Her touch made it impossible for him to want to break. Coming from the life he led, he wasn't used to such gentleness, even though he was no stranger to women and his body has had all their fingerprints on it. But those were meaningless, while her delicateness made him believe that even if for one split of a second, he belonged somewhere.

The sudden pain brought him back to his reality. He got shot and this time it meant business. He was too busy with his personal vendetta that he started missing on some crucial details. New gangs were formed, and they all want to dethrone him. He clenched his jaw and fists together as he heard the shot again in his ears, resulting in a low groan escaping his lips, and waking her up.

"You're awake, thank god!" She exclaimed impulsively.

Ignoring her hazel eyes on him, he tried sitting up and slid his hand from under hers in the process.

"Stop! What are you doing? You can't walk, you need to rest."

"Go away Pamela."

"No, i'm not letting you stand up. You're in pain!" She bursted while blocking his way.

"Move!"

"Stop being so stubborn! You got shot!"

"I fucking know! And for that, i can't stay in this goddamn bed!"

"I won't let you hurt yourself again."

"Move, or i'll hurt you instead."

A volcano was erupting in his eyes, while a tornado resided in hers; one that wasn't scared one bit of being burned.

He always threatened of hurting her but failed in keeping his word. She had nothing to be scared of.

"Empty threats." She challenged him before being caught off guard.

His lips suddenly crashed into hers, while her body was squeezed between his and the wall. She didn't get the time to react, and her hands were of no help as they fell limply to her sides.

'Mine' he screamed in his head, unable to say it out loud. She was back to him even after talking to Jason. She was his, but he couldn't claim her yet. He was scared of the rejection, despite their deal, because he wanted her to be his willingly, and not forcedly.

That kiss didn't last long. However it lasted long enough to mark both of them.

He always wondered what he'd feel kissing someone other than the hoes he used to frequent. You know, those movies-like clichés. Would his heart race? Would he feel breathless? Would he want more? Demand more? But this time not out of an animalistic desire, but out of pure lust. A lust that took roots in little seeds of love.

She didn't always wonder, actually she never did, until just few days ago, and she couldn't forgive herself for doing that. She wondered what he'd taste like. What a mix of cigarettes, alcohol, and a little madness would taste like. And now that she got the answer, she wasn't sure of anything anymore.