she's mine.

90

My hands shook as I rode in the passenger seat next to my brother. I had barely spoken a word to him since we got back, only walked into his room to say, "I'm ready," before walking to his truck without any dismissal. My mother was in her room, and the door was shut. Sleeping probably?

It was a little after nine when we arrived at the hospital. Jonny pulled up to the front without a word. I jumped out and gave myself a glance at my brother before he moved to park the car.

His face was busted and his hair was free of its normal bun. He was in grey joggers, a black long sleeve with the sleeves pushed up and his Nikes. He was sure to look good even after a night like last night. But even the new sweats and shoes weren't enough to take the eyes away from his bruised and swollen face, or even the drained look in his eyes that was far deeper than just the right hooks he wore proudly under his eye.

I sighed as he pulled away. I wondered if my heart would ever stop aching for the boys in my life. Probably not. I wondered if my heart would ever find its way back to its whole version with no cracks the way it had been before last night. Probably not.

I made my way inside, stopping as the receptionist desk at the front to ask for directions. When I finally made it the third level I slowly walked to the room I had been directed to. My breathe hitched and my heart sank as I saw the tall figure leaning against the door that read 342. I tried to watch my feet as I approached, not knowing what to expect from him. I wanted to curse him out, to punch him and make him hurt the way I hurt, but I was here for Jake, not him.

Besides, I couldn't completely ignore the piece of me that ached to run to him, to bury my face in his chest and listen to him whisper to me that it was okay, that we were okay.

Thoughts of my head on his chest and the world fading around us caused me to float a little lighter toward the door, until I realized I was directly in front of him.

I had expected him to walk away, avoid me and all eye contact, or even try to apologize again, maybe? But he did none of that. He didn't even notice I was there.

Ouch.

I took my moment while I had it though. I watched him carefully. Eli was beautiful, there was no way for anyone to deny it. No way for anyone to look at this man and not nearly fall in love with him. I guess I should have been a little kinder to myself, a little more understanding, how could I not fall in love with that.

He was different now though, older. His dark hair was tousled and he had scruff shadowing his jaw line and chin. His head was turned, as if he were listening to all the secrets these white walls held so tightly. His broad shoulders weren't pushed back in the proud way they had been, and his shirt hung too loosely. His outfit was smeared black ink on the white hospital walls behind him. He was squeezing the crap out of a cup of coffee, two actually, and what looked like it had been banana bread, maybe in a past life? was now completely squished.

"You are about to make banana pudding out of that banana bread," I told him, merely trying to save this endangered banana species while I had the chance. My voice came out flat and tired. Interesting. It seemed to reflect the week I've had, breaking me down and crushing me flat against the cement.

Sometimes I wondered how dramatic I could be, then every time I reach new limits.

If nothing, I lived this life to its fullest capacity. Feeling every single detail of this life as if it were a surge form the Heavens itself.

Eli's eyes moved to his guilty hands before he forcibly relaxed his body and looked back to me.

I gnawed on my lip as the strangers eyes were on me.