Aaron. [Aaron Paul]

Twenty-Seven.

That night, the doctor lets me out of the hospital and instead of going home, we all three go to Aaron's house for a late dinner. Aaron tries to make a pizza, but somehow screws up worse than I could've ever imagined, so we end up just eating Chinese take-out.

"I'm glad you came back." I say to Aaron. Zeke is laying on the ground watching T.V. in front of us and me and Aaron are on the couch. 

Aaron just looks at me. "I didn't really have a choice." he says. 

"Yeah, you did! You could've totally stayed and worked it all out, but you came back. For me. And I'm glad." I smile at him and Aaron just chuckles. "Me too." he says.

"So. . ." I tap my finger on my leg, "How come you never told me about your dad?" I know it's a risk to bring it up in front of Zeke, but I'm curious to see how he responds. Just like I anticipated, he sort of glances down at my brother and just stays silent. "Sorry." I mouth at him.

"What show is this?" Aaron finally asks, making a weird face at the television.

"Prison Break." Zeke replies obviously.

Aaron nods at the screen, and then we continue to watch in silence. 

The air in the room feels tense, though, as we stare. Aaron's a little off to himself, and he sits there uncomfortably on his own couch. Though my side still aches like a bad bruise, I force my feet to push myself up and then I grab his hand, leading him slowly back to his room.

After sitting him down on the bed, I crawl up beside him and just sit with my feet dangling over the side.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I'm just a little off today. . . Last night's dream. It was worse than usual."

I shake my head. "Don't be." I link my arm with his. "Do you wanna talk about it?" 

Aaron hesitates to answer, his eyes glued to the floor. I give him time, though. 

"Normally, my dream would be just like reality," he starts without warning, ripping off the bandage quickly rather than slowly. "He would lock me in the closet or pull out a belt. Awful stuff, but it's something I'm used to dreaming of. But last night," he tries to take a steady breath, but it shakes and wavers on the way out. "I got to the phone in my dream. To call for help. And, that never happens; never before I wake up. As soon as the police showed up, though, I felt a way that I hate myself for feeling."

I listen intently, nodding along, wishing and hoping that there's some way that I can help him.

"They took him away, and I panicked. I cried. I felt pity and sadness that he was gone." he stops talking, his eyes trailing up to observe the wall. 

"And then," I speak softly, "you woke up?"

He looks at me finally, his expression blank but full of emotion at the same time. I try to look at him the same way, forcing my eyes to show pity, but I can't do it. I just lay my head on his shoulder and hold his hand until he speaks back.

"I want to visit him. In prison." he says.

The comment is so uncalled for that I have to bite my tongue to stop from gasping. I depart from his side and nod. "I think that's a good idea. Maybe it'll help the dreams."

Aaron shrugs, "Or make them worse." 

I nudge his arm. "No, really. I think it'll be good for you to see him." I stand up but continue to hold his hand. "Face your fears?"

I'm not entirely sure if I'm right, but I think Aaron produces a slight smirk while he nods and stands up with me. We fall into a hug, so casually that it's almost second nature, and then walk back into the living room like nothing happened.

        *        *        *        *   

I end up falling asleep on Aaron's couch when Zeke just decides to leave and head home. I'm in that weird state where I can hear things but can't really respond while Zeke bids a tired goodbye to Aaron. Aaron shuts and locks the door sluggishly behind my brother and then I hear him cross the room to me where he gently lifts me up and moves me to his bed. After he lays the blanket over top of me, a light kiss is planted on my forehead before he returns to the living room.

I try to stay awake until he comes back in, but something about the comfort of his room eases me deeper into my sleep and I finally let go, slipping into my dreams.

I wake up the next morning, Aaron's left arm snugly under my head. He's still asleep, so I lay there and stare at the ceiling for a while. After a minute or so, my stomach interrupts the bright morning's peace by letting out a small grumble. I look over at Aaron who is still sound asleep. I don't want to wake him, so I quietly scoot off the bed and head to the kitchen.

I've never set foot in his small kitchen area, so I don't know where anything is. With confusion, I search every cabinet and drawer on the search for coffee, succeeding with a tall cabinet beside his fridge. But with my luck, it's just an inch too high for me to reach. 

I debate whether or not to climb up on the counter, choosing not to (because that would be rude, considering it's not my house) so I just settle for an apple placed in a white bowl on the counter.

I sit down on the couch, munching away absentmindedly until I hear rummaging around in Aaron's room. Being the nosey bitch that I can be a lot of times, my eyes automatically flicker to the small hall where I spot the cracked door to his bedroom.

Don't look. I warn myself. But my eye's remain glued to the sleepy Aaron slowly standing up. He faces away from the door, rummaging through a drawer for a t-shirt before removing his current V-neck. But before he can pull on the clean one, I find myself staring solemnly at his bare back; full of scars.

I suddenly loose my appetite, my heart growing heavy as I force to turn my head back to the half-eaten apple in my hand. Without a word or any other thought, I stand up and go throw the apple away, proceeding to stare blankly at the trashcan, deep in depressing thoughts.

I already know that they're from his dad. But I didn't know the extreme of them. I can't help but imagine what he could've possibly done to—I stop myself from thinking anything further. Nothing. Aaron did absolutely nothing to deserve what he got, and I feel a small hint of anger bubbling up in my head before he shows up at that very moment to wrap his warm hands around my waist and kiss my cheek.

I try not to show any sign of sadness in front of him, lamely kissing him back. Part of me feels like I should bring it up once again and apologize for peeking, but I don't. Instead, I just lean against the fridge and contently watch him make coffee.

"Heh, what?" he asks, noticing my tiny grin.

I let my smile grow and shut my eyes, somewhat embaressed. "Nothing," I say as he hands me a mug of hot coffee.

We walk to the couch, sit down, and face each other. I don't even bother to sip at my coffee. Just looking at him wakes me up. And as we stare at each other, I can literally feel myself falling deeper in love with him, no matter what his future or past has to offer.

(A/N: Sappy, lovey-dovey chapter? Yeah, sorry. . .  I felt like it though. I hope it wasn't too cheesy. I guess I just wanted to show you guys how their relationship was after all the drama of what's happened recently. Anyway, sorry for the SUPER long delay! I've been sort of stuck on ideas lately, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Let me know what you think in the comments!!! Bye!!!) ~writinslayer.