The girl from New York

37| Slip of the tongue

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I opened my eyes with a soft groan as I heard the sound of a bathtub draining. Looking over at the bed, I saw that Brook wasn't in here anymore. I wonder who else is up.

I ran a hand through my messy dark brown hair as I stood up and made my way slowly towards the bathroom. The sun was only just now rising. I doubt that anybody else is up other than Brooklyn and I.

Light peeked out from underneath the not-quite-closed bathroom door, and I heard a quiet but sharp voice coming from inside, seeming to be chastising someone... or something. My hand hovered over the doorknob hesitantly. Was Brook in there? If so, was she dressed? I bit my lip and peeled curiously through the small crack between the doorway and the door, preparing myself to evacuate if she was undressed.

"..,ugh, and these stupid claves of mine." The fully clothed (thank God) Brook whispered hatefully as she squeezed her left calf, using one crutch as a balance. She continued to list off different things about herself that she hated, and I watched sadly. I hate knowing that this poor, beautiful girl wants to change so many things about herself.

Finally, after what felt like forever, I had enough. I walked into the bathroom and stopped behind her, wrapping my arms gingerly around her waist and nuzzling my head in the crook her neck. She looked at me inquisitively while I planted a single kiss on the side of her neck.

"I love you." I whispered to answer her question. This only brought a more perplexed countenance to her face. "You should love yourself too." She scoffed and gently pushed me away, fixing her damp hair.

"I-I don't understand." She stammered softly, turning to face me. I couldn't help the smirk that danced dangerously on my lips. I slowly turned her to face the mirror again and took her small hand, placing it on the mirror.

"What do you see in the mirror?" I asked seriously.

"W-What?"

"What do you see?" I repeated calmly. She blinked and thought for a moment.

"I see several imperfections." She answered with a voice so quite that I almost missed it. I looked at her face in the mirror and smiled.

"Really? I think you need to grab those glasses of yours, because I see something completely different." I sounded like a cheesy love story, I know. But Brook... she's so undeserving of how harsh her life is, she doesn't need another burden on her shoulders by hating herself.

"I think you are the one who needs the glasses." She huffed, crossing her arms and looking at me with disbelief. Her adorable hazel eyes twinkled with something, though I couldn't quite out my finger on what.

"Nope, I've got twenty-twenty vision. "

"Idiot." She mumbled under her breath, looking away.

My smile only grew bigger. I picked her up bridal style, being careful with her ankle. She punched my chest and shoulder several times as I carried her back to our room. I put her down on the bed and lied down next to her. She turned on her side and looked at me with an unimpressed face.

"God! Why do you have to be so cute?!" She exclaimed in annoyance, pushing her hand in my face and looking over her shoulder to avoid my gaze. I felt heat creeping up my neck while a smirk danced on its usual spot of my lips. Pulling Brook's hand off of my face, I curled up closer to her.

After a long moment of casual silence, I broke the quiet with a gently worded question. "What does your mom and dad think about you dating?" My mom isn't the biggest fan of me dating any girl, but she believes that I'm trustworthy enough to be held accountable for my own actions and have the right to make my own decisions. I realized something in Brook's answer of absolute silence: I don't know anything about her family.

"My dad will probably kill you if he ever finds out." Brook finally answered with a shrug.

"And  your mom?" She flinched at the question.

"N-Not sure." She whispered. I heard her try to hide a sniffle and turned her to face me. Her eyes were glazed over and a single tear stained her cheek. I brushed the tear away with my thumb and her close. She broke down in my arms, gripping my pyjama shirt and using it as a tissue for her tears. We've been dating for only about 11 hours, yet I feel as if we've been dating for a couple months.

"Hey, it's okay... why are you crying? Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, carefully choosing my words. She didn't respond for a while, so I just held her and rubbed her back until she ran out of tears.

"No t-there's no reason to talk about someone who's dead." She clamped a hand over her mouth as if she was a child who had accidentally cursed. My eyes seemed to widen to the size of dinner plate. I hugged her tighter suddenly, catching her by surprise.

This poor girl: bullied, full of insecurities and trapped in a household without a mother. I depot tears prickle in my own eyes for her, but quickly blinked them away. It's her turn to cry? And I won't try to steal the spotlight.

"I'm not supposed to tell you that." She whispered into my chest, hugging me tighter.

I had to pull her away so I could look at her in the face while I said. "Don't think that you can't talk to me. I'm always open to talk-" I was interrupted by her grabbing my shirt and pulling me into her.

At first, I was shocked, but when I heard her mumble. "Shut up." Into my cheek, I simply obeyed and kissed her back. She didn't want to talk. I respected that.

She ran her fingers through my already messy hair. I held the small of her back with cautious fingers, hoping her ankle wasn't in any pain. All of the sudden, she was against the wall that served as the headboard for the small bed, and I was practically on top of her.

Knock knock!

The bedroom door flew open, before either of us had time to react.

Goodbye, world.