Beneath The Moon
Life::Risk It All[16]
“Well, you sure do manage to keep your life interesting and filled with pain,” the doctor said, examining my stitches she had just re-done. She was the same doctor I had had the night Franklin cut me. “Just be careful, and no more fighting until these things heal,” she explained. I nodded my head and smiled at Holly, who had actually stayed and sat in the corner this time.
Once home, I had newly-acquired pain from getting sliced open, stitched, re-opened, and re-stitched. The doctors were convinced that I wouldn’t need painkillers, so I was stuck with doping up on Tylenol and Advil.
I was sitting on my bed, and never felt so uncomfortable. Being in that much pain is not any fun. I popped open a Mike’s Hard Lemonade that I had stole from the fridge, hoping it would make me relax a little. Margret still had close to no clue whatsoever that I was hurt in the least, and Holly and I decided to keep it that way. We didn’t want her worrying about me [which she probably wouldn’t do] or kick me out for getting in a fight at school [which she probably would do]. So I was forced to sit in my bed for a while, acting like I was just tired, until the majority of my pain went away.
“Knock knock,” Holly said, entering my room quietly. I was sitting against my headboard cross-legged, staring off into space. I shook myself out of my thought-coma and raised my eyebrows to her.
“What’s up?” I asked. I bit my tongue to keep from whining about my pain again.
“Nothing really,” she replied. She sat down on my bed cross-legged, her knees touching mine, like we always sat. “Um…” she started, apparently trying to find the right words to say to me.
“What?” I asked, a bit confused. She never had a problem finding words to say to me; nor I to her.
“Thanks for standing up for me today,” she said, “you didn’t really need to do that. I usually just ignore what they say about me…and sorry about your back.” I nodded understandingly. She bit her lip, looking like she had more to say. Cute, I thought.
“What?” I asked. I honestly had no clue what she was up to. She leaned in closer to my face, and I thought she was about to whisper something to me. Instead, she gently placed her lips upon mine, and then backed away fast. I smiled, but apparently she missed it.
“Sorry,” she muttered. She got up from the bed, beginning to walk away. With an agonizing pain in my back, I got up myself, and caught her by the wrist.
“Wait,” I said. She bit her lip again and frowned. I pulled her in close again, this time kissing her longer and deeper. We broke apart, and she smiled. Was this what she wanted? Apparently. Was this what I wanted? More than anything.
Once home, I had newly-acquired pain from getting sliced open, stitched, re-opened, and re-stitched. The doctors were convinced that I wouldn’t need painkillers, so I was stuck with doping up on Tylenol and Advil.
I was sitting on my bed, and never felt so uncomfortable. Being in that much pain is not any fun. I popped open a Mike’s Hard Lemonade that I had stole from the fridge, hoping it would make me relax a little. Margret still had close to no clue whatsoever that I was hurt in the least, and Holly and I decided to keep it that way. We didn’t want her worrying about me [which she probably wouldn’t do] or kick me out for getting in a fight at school [which she probably would do]. So I was forced to sit in my bed for a while, acting like I was just tired, until the majority of my pain went away.
“Knock knock,” Holly said, entering my room quietly. I was sitting against my headboard cross-legged, staring off into space. I shook myself out of my thought-coma and raised my eyebrows to her.
“What’s up?” I asked. I bit my tongue to keep from whining about my pain again.
“Nothing really,” she replied. She sat down on my bed cross-legged, her knees touching mine, like we always sat. “Um…” she started, apparently trying to find the right words to say to me.
“What?” I asked, a bit confused. She never had a problem finding words to say to me; nor I to her.
“Thanks for standing up for me today,” she said, “you didn’t really need to do that. I usually just ignore what they say about me…and sorry about your back.” I nodded understandingly. She bit her lip, looking like she had more to say. Cute, I thought.
“What?” I asked. I honestly had no clue what she was up to. She leaned in closer to my face, and I thought she was about to whisper something to me. Instead, she gently placed her lips upon mine, and then backed away fast. I smiled, but apparently she missed it.
“Sorry,” she muttered. She got up from the bed, beginning to walk away. With an agonizing pain in my back, I got up myself, and caught her by the wrist.
“Wait,” I said. She bit her lip again and frowned. I pulled her in close again, this time kissing her longer and deeper. We broke apart, and she smiled. Was this what she wanted? Apparently. Was this what I wanted? More than anything.