Downtown Boy

c h a p t e r 8

🎵You know I can't afford to buy her pearls
But maybe someday when my ship comes in

She'll understand what kind of guy I've been

And then I'll win🎵

-Billy Joel

Sierra's pov:

"I want to help you Sierra."

I falter back a bit as I understand what he had just said.

Help me? He's kidding right?

"You," I point at him, "want to help me?" I point at myself and he nods his head like a bobbing headed dumb dumb.

"Why?"

He seemed to have stopped right there before he answers, "Because.....I-" He pauses for a moment. "Does there really have to be a reason to want to help someone for the sake of them and humanity?"

I give him a look. 

We both know he's a selfish asshole and he doesn't care about anyone but his family and himself. "I don't want to just sit back, all relaxed while you go and destroy yourself day by day. It just isn't setting with me and I've tried, God I've tried ignoring you but I just can't." He spits out frustratingly, a blush rising up.

I would've teased him and ended up getting insulted like the loser I am if it weren't for serious-me here.

"Hunter I don't need help, I'm okay just the way I am. I'm not in need of getting fixed. I am fixed. I'm perfect." I poke his hard muscular chest harshly. "Fan-fucking-tastic, wonderful, amazing, I'm great!" I shout, shoving him in-between each word, he ends up stumbling back a few times not being able to take the hits.

I never got help before and I'm not going to get any right now.

I'm not going to go through my memory lane and talk about what happened back then. 

I'm not going to voice out all my thoughts to a complete stranger and tell him my sob story after knowing him for just a little over a week.

Prying my hands off of him, he hesitantly places his hands on my shoulders. "No, no you aren't. Nobody's perfect Sierra, but what I do know is that you're a good person who's just in need of a bit of help." he whispers, tucking in a piece of my hair that seemed to have gotten out of my braid.

"I don't need help. I can manage taking care of my attacks by myself. I've don't it before and I can do it again." I try convincing him. 

My eyes widen, "I've got a better idea, how about I don't even talk to anyone? I'll avoid you guys and you won't even have to worry about me being a burden or calling the whole neighborhood to your house. Yes, that's exactly what I'll do." I nod to myself.

"Sierra, what the fuck are you even going on about? That's fucking impossible and ridiculous, you can't even shut up right now and you're talking about never talking?" He furrows his eyebrows.

The weight on my shoulder disappears and I feel rough and warm hands on my cheeks, gently caressing them.

He's touching me.

And I'm not- not freaking out. Again.

Why am I not freaking out and wanting to punch him?

"I'm not going to hurt you, remember that. I'm not them." His eyes, disturbingly intense and clam, as they stared into mine. It was like he was reading me- figuring me out- observing me.