Wounds That Will Not Heal

I woke up a few hours later on the staircase with Matt's arms holding me in a sweet, secure hug. I looked up to see if he's still sleeping. He was. His sleeping figure made me smile. His eyes were closed and his lips were an inch apart and a quiet snoring sound escaped his mouth. He looked so peaceful and cute.

I dug my phone from my pocket to check the time.
6.27am
It's still too early to go see Jo, she's definitely still sleeping. I wonder how is she and is she feeling any pain. I need to see her as soon as possible. I felt Matt move. I looked at him, his eyelids slowly opened.

I smiled "Good morning sleepyhead."
He chuckled slightly. "Morning."
"What time is it?" He asked unwrapping his hands from my waist and sitting up.
"Six thirty."
He frowned. "First rounds start at 7.30."
"We can talk till then?" I suggested.
He nodded. "Well..you can start by telling me what happened yesterday."
I looked at the floor, the events from last night rushing back to my head.
"It's a long story." I muttered.
"I have time." He smiled reassuringly.

I sighed and started to tell him everything. From the day that Jo and I met to today. On the very end of the story I realized I was crying, again.
Matt hugged me.
"Thank you." I mumbled in his chest.
"No problem." He tightened his grip.

When the tears dried up I pulled away. I looked at him. "And what are you doing here?" I asked. He looked at me with a puzzled look
"I mean here, in Seattle, in a hospital. Your accent kinda gives away that you are not from here." I added.
He chuckled. "It's that obvious, huh?"
I laughed. "No, but I'm a specialist in French accents." I joked.
"Oh, really now?" He looked at me laughing.
"Then guess where am I really from."

I thought for a while. He didn't really seem like he's from France, or his accent. It's not that thick. He seems like a Canadian.
"Quebec?" I quirked my eyebrow.
"Close." He smiled. I melted for the thousand time. "Montreal."
I pouted pathetically. He laughed at my face.

"And what are you doing here in the hospital?" I asked curiously. I really hope he's not sick too. I don't know him for long, or that well but I know enough to see that he is the type of a person you often find.
"I'm actually not here for me, but for my brother." He said sadly. I regretted asking him that now. It's obviously a hard subject but a part of me was getting even more curious.

"Is he sick?" I asked quietly.
He nodded. "He has a brain tumor." I was speechless.
"They don't have everything necessary to treat him in Montreal so we searched for the best clinic to treat him in and that's how we ended up here." He stopped for a few moments before he continued.

"He's still a kid. He should be out with friends doing stupid things that normal fifteen year olds do! He should be in high school or at his bands' practice and making songs and building his dream career and not here. He shouldn't be draining himself with therapies and surgeries. He keeps telling me it will be okay but it won't. The doctors say he got better but that it can get worse again. They say it's curable but that it needs time. But what about his life? Who will give that back to him?" He sighed in frustration. "And he keeps telling me that it will be okay. I - I just can't keep watching my brother sick and pretend it's okay!" He ran his hands trough his long brown hair.

I opened my mouth to speak but I didn't know what to say. He was right, it wasn't okay but it can be even worse.
"No, it's not okay but you can't act like you can make it okay! You can't blame yourself for it!" He looked at me.
"There is no way to give him back the years that he wasn't able to be and act like a regular kid.There is no way to make him believe everything will be okay, because you don't know that and you yourself don't believe in that. The only thing you can do is make him know you will be there whenever the reality hits him, that you will be there when no one else will. Let him know you are, and always will be his brother."
By the end of my 'speech' his eyes were watery and a few tears already escaped my eyes.

He cupped my face with his hands softly and stared in my eyes. His gaze shifted to my lips and back to my eyes again. He started to lean in slowly and stopped just a few inches from my face. I felt his warm breath stroke my lips and his eyes met mine once more. I looked at his lips and he began to lean even closer. I closed my eyes and leaned in. When his lips met mine a small electrical shock hit my body and it sent shivers up and down my spine.
The world around us froze. Time stopped. My thoughts disappeared like they weren't even there.

I didn't want to pull back. But, is this wrong? To feel this way? I'm here kissing a guy met a few hours ago and my best friend who is sick is all alone. I feel so wrong but this feels so right! I'm not strong enough to even pull away right now and I'm surely not strong enough to see my best friend sad and deathly sick. How did this happen? What did I do? I only know I can't change it. I need to face the facts and the life in front of me. I'm not strong enough now, but I will be. I will change. I will be the type of a friend to Jo that she has always been to me, I will do anything to make her smile, I Will try to make my life as better as possible and I will never, not even think about pulling away from a moment like this.