Subconscious - Awake

7

Adam glanced back at the stubborn, blonde female to find her half glaring at him. Only half because the rest of her face was stuck in a perpetual wince as she continued to rub the bridge of her nose with her free hand. Adam was using the other to drag her down the hallway they'd been down not even two hours before. 

She had wasted five minutes of the walk trying to convince him that she was 'fine' and that it was 'just a minor headache'. Bullcrap. Although she wasn't crying, her face told him everything he needed to know. After inquiring about why she hated the nurse's so much, he learned that, as Nurse Netty said, Reese hated attention. And needles. 

"Why," Adam had asked

"I just don't want them to know," she'd stated plainly. "My parents would make a large fuss, and it's nothing anyway." She shugged for emphasis, then cringed as her face contorted with pain once more.

Yeah. Sure. Nothing. He opened his mouth to argue but closed it, deciding against starting a disagreement. After a moment, Adam found he could understand that, having an overprotective mother and all. But still, this was a minor head injury. What if Adam had done more damage than they thought? Could she die? No. He refused to think that way. Reese is fine. Just a minor headache.

He hadn't noticed he had picked up the pace until Reese almost tripped over herself. He slowed and mumbled an apology. She regained balance as her glare came back full force.

"Why do you even care?"

The question caught Adam off guard but he recovered quickly. "Because this is my fault. If I had just watched where I was going......well this wouldn't have happened."

"So you feel guilty and now you are trying to make things right by dragging me to the nurse's."

Guilt. She thinks I'm a walking pity party. Adam jerked to a stop and whipped his head around to face her, anger flaring like a newborn flame. Her eyes were wide as he gritted out, "I'm doing this because it's the right thing to do. Because you won't take care of yourself. And yes I am a little guilty. Honestly, I think that guilt is a good thing." It's your soul telling you you've done something wrong. His fingers tightened around her wrist as he recalled those words being said. Remembered his mother crying as his dad drove away. Adam glanced up, shoving those memories away, to look at Reese. Green, blue, and gray in a constant war of swirls and streaks glowed from her still stunned eyes. This was a serious topic wrapped in a silly situation, it didn't belong. 

"Why?" Her voice was quiet as she watched him like a bomb about to go off, her gaze flicking between her wrist and his face.

"Why what?"

"Why do you have a positive opinion on guilt?" Reese asked looking like a classmate who wished to compare answers after finishing an assignment. Someone who agreed, but wanted—no needed—to know how the other person got to the same conclusion. For a moment, it was like she could see everything, see every scar, see all of the pain that had made him into the person he was today, and understood.

"Because—," he faltered, wondering if he could repeat the words out loud. "Because it's how you know you've made a mistake." He studied her, gauging her response.

But she simply nodded, that look of compassionate understanding never leaving her face. You've been hurt, it seemed to say, I have too. His grip loosened, his anger fading, as he realized he had been squeezing enough for it to hurt, and threw up an apologetic look. Reese seemed to relax, though the indent between her brows reminded Adam why he was out in this hall, dragging this girl behind him. She let out a sigh, that sounded suspiciously like a sound of surrender, as she stepped around him and started forward once more. She then flipped her wrist in his hand and wrapped her spindly fingers around his wrist. Adam furrowed his brows as he watched, confused as to what changed her mind, what made her give in.