You Can't Tell Me to Heal

John stopped breathing, stopped moving, for I don't even know how long, before he collapsed on top of me and exhaled sharply. "Holy...Holy shit...Avery, that was...Wow," John gasped out, still trying to catch his breath.

I swallowed hard and played with his hair, although the angles he had been bending my legs and body into hurt more than I let on. I mean, god, the sex was nothing short of amazing, but it still kind of hurt! I know it was supposed to, but it hurt me more than usual because of my fucked up knees.

"Avery?" John pushed himself up off me a little bit to look at me. "Baby?" He reached up to touch my face with the tips of his fingers and swore when he felt the tears on my cheeks. "Baby, why didn't you tell me I was hurting you?!"

"You weren't hurting me," I said honestly. "I'm crying because I'm so happy, sweetheart." And that was partially true. We had been together for three months now, and as well as tonight being our three month anniversary, it was John's birthday. It was perfect. Everything about tonight was perfect. He was perfect. And I didn't regret that he was my first.

John hung his head and sighed, his cool breath making me shiver. "It's your knees, isn't it?" I didn't speak, just continued to play with his hair. John kissed my collar bone before pulling away from my touch and pulling out of me.

"John," I whined, feeling empty without him.

"I'll be back," he muttered, massaging his wrist and sliding off his bed. Of course we were at his apartment. My mom still didn't really approve of our relationship. Meeting John's family was lovely. Meeting my mom didn't even happen because she was always working.

I sighed and tugged the sheets over me, shifting into a more comfortable position on John's bed. I flipped the pillows over to the non sweaty side, too. He had his iPod softly playing, and it was a playlist we had compiled together, a playlist of our favorite songs, a playlist of us. I loved it.

I can honestly say I didn't plan to have sex with John tonight. I don't think he did, either. But, one kiss led to another, led to another, led to his bed, so here we are... "Baby? I'm gonna, like turn on my desk lamp, alright?"

I pulled a pillow over my eyes. "Alright."

I heard the soft click of a switch being flipped, and then I felt John sliding the sheets up my legs. "Sweetheart, what are you-! Oh." I pulled the pillow off my eyes to see John holding a wash cloth full of ice cubes on my knee. "Oh, John.... it's fine, really, you don't need to-"

"Lay down and let me be a good boyfriend," he chuckled, pushing me back down. "Better?" He asked after a few minutes of icing both my knees.

"Come here," I giggled, pulling him down for a kiss.

"Avery?" John said softly after we were done kissing and we were now cuddling on his bed. I could feel him playing with my hair, feel him breathing down the back of my neck because he was so close.

"Hmm?" I mumbled sleepily. Maybe John was a fucking energizer bunny, but my stamina wasn't what it used to be. I was exhausted.

"You were my first."

I was shocked to say the least. It just seemed like John knew what he was doing. "You were my first, too," I admitted, pulling his arm tighter around me.

John laughed softly in relief before kissing my shoulder. "Are you tired? Do you want me to sing you to sleep?"

His iPod did stop playing. The playlist was over. "Yes, any song you want," I murmured sleepily. I think I was already asleep when he started to sing, though.


When I woke up, John was gone, but I still smelled and heard something from the kitchen. I grinned to myself before snatching John's button up shirt from last night off the floor, putting it on and making my way to his kitchen.

John stood in front of the stove in just boxers, holding tongs in his hand. "Dammit!" He hissed and leapt away from the stove, clutching his hand when there was a loud popping noise.

I quickly stepped up and slipped the splatter guard over the frying pan. "Morning, babe," John chuckled, running cold water on his hand. He was trying to fry bacon, but oil had splattered onto his hand.

"Morning," I sighed happily, cooking the bacon myself now. It was already a quarter past noon. John had made bacon, eggs, and was attempting to make French toast. Key word, trying. It was so sweet of him, though.

We had brunch in comfortable silence in his living room, watching reruns of How I Met Your Mother. When we were done eating, we showered - separately, or we'd never get out of the tub. We did dress each other afterwards, though. I had to borrow some clothes from John. "Do you really have to go?" John groaned, trying to pull me back to him when I broke another heated kiss.

"Sweetheart, it's two in the afternoon," I laughed, pulling my phone and keys out of my purse. "I really should..." I frowned when I saw that I had seventeen missed calls and voicemails, and even more text messages from Halvo.

"Baby?" John said worriedly when I read the texts in silence. "Avery tell me what's wrong," he said firmly when I started to cry as I listened to the voicemails. I didn't want anything to ruin today, but...

"John, can you come with me to the hospital?"