Status: Long hiatus.
In a Hail of Bullets
Chapter Five.
As he pulled into his driveway, I stood up, leaving my bags on the porch. He stepped from his car and started to walk towards me. Seeing his perfect features surrounded by matted jet-black hair sunk my heart even deeper. I couldn't hold tears back anymore, I started to cry heavily now.
"Liz, what's wrong? What happened?" I sat down onto the porch again, him quickly next to me, and arms around me. I held onto him, scared I'd not be able to hold him ever again.
"Come here babe, let's go inside." He stood up, taking his hand. I grabbed my purse, and started to grab my other bags, but he swiftly put them over his shoulder before unlocking his front door.
He kept his fingers intertwined with mine as we walked down the hall to his room. Placing my things on the floor, he cleared clothes from his bed before sitting down onto it, pulling me close to himself.
Before talking, he wiped my tears away from his thumb, carefuly to avoid the spot on my cheek. I guess I was right about it being red. "Did you fall?" He asked with a half smile on my face. "I wish," my reply was emotionless.
"When I got home from school, my parents wanted to talk to me. They said..." I paused, holding back tears. "That we're moving." Repeating those words hurt almost as much as hearing them from my father. Gerard's face grew blank and he gulped. "To where?"
"Back to California," I threw my arms around his neck and started to sob insanely againt. I could feel his arms tighten around me, pulling into a closer hug.
I pulled back for a moment, wiping my face. "But," I started, placing my forehead against his. "I told them I wouldn't go. That I can't leave you. And that..." I paused, knowing neither of us had ever spoken these words aloud to each other. "I love you," my voice sounded as if I had a sore throat. I closed my eyes, unaware of what he was going to say in reply.
"Did he hit you?" He asked, sounding angry. My eyes flickered open. "He didn't hit me, it was nothing," I avoided eye contact. His fingers traced my cheek, where I assumed that large red mark was.
He stooed, taking my hand again. "What are you doing?" I asked, not wanting to leave his arms. "That might swell, I'm gonna get something to put on it."
We walked back down the hallway and into the kitchen. Pulling out some sort of frozen, bagged food, he wrapped it in the towel that hung from the stove and placed it against my cheek. "Hold this there for a while."
"Liz, what's wrong? What happened?" I sat down onto the porch again, him quickly next to me, and arms around me. I held onto him, scared I'd not be able to hold him ever again.
"Come here babe, let's go inside." He stood up, taking his hand. I grabbed my purse, and started to grab my other bags, but he swiftly put them over his shoulder before unlocking his front door.
He kept his fingers intertwined with mine as we walked down the hall to his room. Placing my things on the floor, he cleared clothes from his bed before sitting down onto it, pulling me close to himself.
Before talking, he wiped my tears away from his thumb, carefuly to avoid the spot on my cheek. I guess I was right about it being red. "Did you fall?" He asked with a half smile on my face. "I wish," my reply was emotionless.
"When I got home from school, my parents wanted to talk to me. They said..." I paused, holding back tears. "That we're moving." Repeating those words hurt almost as much as hearing them from my father. Gerard's face grew blank and he gulped. "To where?"
"Back to California," I threw my arms around his neck and started to sob insanely againt. I could feel his arms tighten around me, pulling into a closer hug.
I pulled back for a moment, wiping my face. "But," I started, placing my forehead against his. "I told them I wouldn't go. That I can't leave you. And that..." I paused, knowing neither of us had ever spoken these words aloud to each other. "I love you," my voice sounded as if I had a sore throat. I closed my eyes, unaware of what he was going to say in reply.
"Did he hit you?" He asked, sounding angry. My eyes flickered open. "He didn't hit me, it was nothing," I avoided eye contact. His fingers traced my cheek, where I assumed that large red mark was.
He stooed, taking my hand again. "What are you doing?" I asked, not wanting to leave his arms. "That might swell, I'm gonna get something to put on it."
We walked back down the hallway and into the kitchen. Pulling out some sort of frozen, bagged food, he wrapped it in the towel that hung from the stove and placed it against my cheek. "Hold this there for a while."
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