Muted

Chapter 21

The rest of Christmas involved my mother showing Dillon her improvement in photography, him and I catching up on things we missed in each other's lives, me telling him about Ines, drinking hot cocoa, etcetera. I didn't even bother mentioning my mental breakdown that evening for I really didn't want his pity.

He ended up staying the night that night. We were hanging out upstairs in my room, him on the floor, me on the bed. He was sitting up so I could play with his hair, just relaxing to my touch.

He seemed like he had a lot on his mind, but for some reason he couldn't form his thoughts in to words. We just sat there with my fingers through his dark locks, and him just contemplating everything that happens from here.

He finally looked up at me and said, "You know none of this would have happened if I didn't try to rob Ines's funeral parlor, right?"

I looked back at him with a disapproving facial expression and he was quick to respond, "I'm just saying."

I just simply nodded. I looked at him thinking about all the times he just so happened to be there. The party, the train, even the alleyway.

He leaned his head back onto my lap and closed his eyes and sighed with relief.

"Why are you so nice to me," he questioned.

I pulled out my phone and typed out for him, "Because I have no reason to show hate to anyone, even if I actually hate them."

He opened his eyes and scrunched his eyebrows together, "So when you told me you hate me, did you mean it?"

I shook my head no and he sighed with relief. We continued our little silence for about two hours more, him occasionally asking random questions.

I was getting ready to turn out the lights, but was abruptly stopped by Dillon grabbing my arm and asking me, "Are you going to that spring formal thing this next month?"

I looked at him and thought for a moment before giving a brief shrug. Dillon nodded at my response and just stared into the distance, leaning his head back. I could tell he really wanted to say something, but decided not to push it.

"There is so much I would love to tell you, but I don't think I can bring myself to do it. But I'm trying. I promise," he finally spoke up. "Honestly, you'll never hear me say this again–I hope–but I can't describe how much I love you. You would never understand."

I sat in slight shock from his words but signed 'I love you too.' He sighed with relief and a grin slowly formed on his features. I did a goofy grin back at his response then made a motion pointing to my nose, letting him know I wanted to know where the cut came from.

"Oh that," he started, rubbing his hands on his pajama pants. "I got into it with my dad. He's not a very nice man. To be honest, I probably get my traits from him."

I grasped his shoulder, egging him to go on.

"There's broken stuff everywhere. Glass, pictures... everything. I have to pay for all of it."

I didn't understand what it was like for him to be with parents who were abusive, but I wanted to, so I tried.

"We can't stand each other. He's so controlling, so I rebel against his wishes."

Dillon let out a yawn by the end of his sentence, indicating he either didn't want to keep talking or he was tired.

I scooter down on the floor next to him and laid my head on his shoulder. I looked up at him before pulling him into a hug and rubbing my fingers through his hair.

I held him to comfort him and he held me as if his life depended on it. I never wanted to let go of him, but he was tired so I wasn't really given a choice. I just couldn't wait to wake up in the morning to hold him again.

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