Accidents II

Chapter 20

Mia's POV

Damon sits on the edge of the hospital bed. The doctor starts to stitch his chin. Damon winces and quickly grabs a hold around the doctors wrist tightly and pushes him back.

"If you want me to finish this quickly, you will need to cooperate," the doctor exclaims to Damon.

Damon frowns and intensively watches the doctor. I get up, grab onto Damon's hand, squeezing it but he only squeezes harder.

When the doctor is done with his chin, he leaves the room to grab a few things.

"You were doing so well," I lightly say as I gently caress his cheek.

Damon doesn't say anything as he blankly looks past me. I wish I could read his thoughts right about now.

The doctor walks back in with a clipboard in his hand, he suggests me to leave but Damon refuses at first.

"It's going to get graphic, i suggest the lady to leave," doctor...i glance at his name tag. Doctor Baker says.

I wait for Damon to speak, but it seems like he doesn't want me in the room either. Damon takes off his coat and shirt and reveals a deep scratch on his bare chest. I didn't expect something like that, since how calm he was this whole time. I suddenly feel uncomfortable reimagining the last time i had to take a bullet out of his arm. I don't think I could ever handle that again.

Doctor Baker starts cleaning the deep scar. Doctor Baker buys the needle through his skin as Damon winces in pain. Damon demands me to leave and I do. I swallow and look away by grabbing my purse. I wished I could stay and hold onto his hand and comfort him. But I can't and that just makes me hate myself.

I want to cry from what happened yesterday. It was so awful to be in a position like that. I felt weak, frozen and vulnerable. I feel so nauseous just thinking of this. I can feel something come up my throat. I hurry to the bathroom and puke my breakfast out and sob. I get off the dirty floor and dust off my tights. I take a deep breath and try to remain calm. I buy a bottle of water to chug.

...

Damon comes into the waiting room as he puts his coat back on. I get up off the couch while Damon observes my face...my eyes. He holds my face for a second and drops his hands to his side.

"You know if I did or said something-"

"No it's not-" i try to explain but he cuts me off.

"It was either because I was drunk-"

"Damon," i raise my voice a little to get his attention. "I'm going to be okay," i say, but deep down I question myself if i mean it.

"No your not," his voice slowly fading as he watches me, stares at me. I can feel his eyes digging a hole in me. I look away from him and down to his chest.

"What about you, it must hurt-" i gesture towards his chest but he fires back by jerking away from me.

"Don't worry about me," his face straight. I cant tell if he's trying to be genuine or..."This wouldn't have happened if you didn't bring up that fucking conversation. This isn't a fucking game Mia, so stop playing wife," his words are harsh but his tone remains the same.

"W-what?" I mostly whisper.

He puts his hands over his face and wipes his eyes, "I didn't-" he tries coming closer to me but I back away.

"I'll be waiting in the car," I turn around facing the way out before finishing my words. I feel embarrassed. I only care about him because he means so much to me, why won't he let me? I think it's okay to talk about the future with Damon, well it should be. I've been with him over a couple of years now. Actually, we've separated a couple of times too. Besides It should be aloud to express how you feel about what leads us to our future, that's what makes a relationship stronger. But Damon doing stupid and reckless things whenever he gets mad wont help one bit-

Damon pulls the door open and hops in his seat. He doesn't start the car when he just faces me. I don't face him even though I know he's looking at me.

"Can you please take me to my dorm?" I say crossing my arms and continuing to look away through the window.

"Stay at my apartment,"

"Damon, I want to be alone,"

"No," he says, making me finally look at him. "Last time I left you alone, it fucked things up. I'm not doing that again,"

"Why should I believe you?"

"I'm still learning Mia. I know I can't be who you want me to be. But I'm trying my best here,"

"And I love you for that, I really do. But I feel like sometimes you don't carry out certain situations at there best. Instead you aggravate the situation to make yourself feel better, like you have nothing to lose..that's why i worry about you,"

It hurts me so much seeing how much pain he was in that night. I don't want him being in a position like that—ever and now I'm even more afraid he will get into a situation that will lead him to it, again. It's a bad habit of his.

"You think I'm fucking up my life on purpose?"

Sadly, I do think that at times. He glances at me and back at the road with a frown on his face. I don't feel like I need to answer that question.

"Mia," he presses.

"You wanted him to hit you Damon. You didn't care how badly they were hurting you," i respond and look away from him.

he shakes his head and continues to look at the road.

"You have too much anger inside of you-"

"That's enough!" He bangs his hands on the steering wheel. I jump a little from my seat. He hastily parks on the side of the road, and turns to me, "Being angry doesn't mean there's something fucking wrong with you," he stutters.

"Damon, i didn't say that there was anything wrong with you," i furrow my brows.

He looks utterly nervous that it's so unlike him. His eyes are rapidly wide and focused on me, like I'm about to tell him his worst nightmare.

"Then why the fuck does it feel like that?" he panics.

"Damon—hey," I hold both sides of his face gently. I kiss him softly to calm him down. His eyes watch my lips curl with his. I pull back slightly and our faces nearly an inch away.

"I'm fucked," he mutters, still inches away from my face.

I think what Damon needs is some therapy sessions at the moment. I feel like he sometimes doesn't want to share things with me because he is said that it's "the past" and it's suppose to be left in "the past" but really, pretending that you don't care makes you care even more. That can mentally and emotionally hurt Damon. I want to see him do better. I want him to believe he can do better.

I chuckle softly. "You have luck," i tell him and widely smile at him. His mouth is formed a straight line as his jaw tenses. He watches me with searching eyes and I let him.