Fixing Her

Chapter XXXII

This time, we're finally watching the end of Back Home. It ends with that the head characters gives birth to her kidnapper's child, and they escape together and start a new life, and her brother kills himself. The movie kinda sucked.

"That wasn't how I thought it would end," I comment when the texts start rolling in.

"I can't believe we put this much time on this movie," he agrees. "I'd rather have him in prison and with her raising that kid in the villa with her family, maybe visiting him and writing letters and all."

"I guess they wanted a happy ending."

But some happy endings are just bad. I mean seriously? The girl with a PhD in economics, her whole future ahead of her, runs away with her kidnapper and her two week old baby to a foreign country? She's ruined her future.

He's about to respond when knocks are heard on the door. He jumps up quickly and opens, revealing the guy from the counter.

"I'm sorry for disturbing," he says, his embrace full of wood pieces. "But we're awaiting a storm. It's gonna be pretty cold tonight, so I've brought wood and my greatest apologies. We suggest you don't leave the room until tomorrow at nine."

"Thank you," Landon says and takes the woods from him, putting them beside the fireplace. The guy doesn't wait for tip or anything; he walks away as soon as the woods have left his embrace.

Landon locks the door after him and walks over to his bag.

"I can already feel the wind blowing my skin off," he says and gives me one of his hoodies. I kinda like it.

I take on the hoodie and watch him as he takes off his shirt and starts looking for something. "Hey, have you seen that blue sweater?"

"Maybe it's in my stuff," I say and start looking for it. Pink, blue but not a sweater, purple, black, blue and a sweater. "Here."

I turn to give it to him, and he turns around as well. He's looking down all the while, making sure to keep his hands over his abdomen, or more precisely, his scar. "Why do you hide it so much?"

"I'm just not much for running around being a nudist like Dylan."

"Come on. It's not something you're supposed to feel ashamed over. The opposite, actually."

He meets my eyes but he doesn't drop his arms.

"I just don't want to remind people I'm the guy whose dad was killed by his uncle."

"But why do you hide it from me? It's not like I would ever judge you for something he has done."

"I know, but it attracts too much attention. I just don't like having people's eyes on it."

"I can assure you, it's not the scar they're looking at."

I might for ninety percents chance be blushing, but when he starts laughing, I ignore it.