Homecoming

Everything was silent. Not a sound. I was in a black void. Death is easy. No more stress. I didn't have to deal with him. Then, a burning started. My arm. My eyes flew open. They barely adjusted when I saw a figure ripping a knife out of my arm. I screamed.
"It's me," he said softly. "I'm sorry. I had to do that."
I nodded and clutched my arm to my chest. The flood was soaking my oversized Green Day shirt. I realized I wasn;t even dressed really. I had my oversized shirt and shorts on. I was totally runing my shirt. My favorite shirt.
"God dammit! This is my favorite shirt!"
"Really, Jade? You're worried about a shirt when you have a potentially fatal wound?"
He did what those guys do in the movies: Took his shirt off and covered my bleeding arm. All his tattoos were revealed. I couldn't stop staring. Not seeing him for three weeks made me forget how gorgeous he really was.
Billie caught me staring and smiled his crooked smile. His eyes were hazel with specks of green. His hair, jet-black and shagging in his eyes. He had stubble on his chin. Eyeliner surrounded his perfect eyes. I closed my eyes and laid still on the cold kitchen floor.
"Hold this here."
I did as he said and held his shirt to my arm. He pulled me into his arms and brought me to the couch.
"In the medicine cabinet there's bandages," I told him.
He got the bandages and fixed me up without talking. I reached down and picked up my sheep stuffed animal off the ground. He smirked.
"What? His name is Theo."
"Theo?"
"Yeah, like Theo Stockman from American Idiot."
"Oh. Alright then."
I pressed my face into the sheep.
"Don't suffocate yourself now," he muttered.
"I won't."
"Why did you do it?"
I shrugged.
"It wasn't that bad."
"Yes it was."
He moved closer to me. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," he whispered. "I'm sorry about everything."
"Me too."
"I love you," he breathed. "I'm just an idiot and fucked everything up."
I ran my hand through his hair. It seemed to calm him down. "Billie?"
He looked up.
"I love you too. We can't, though. Not again."
He grabbed my hand and pressed it against his cheek. It was his left hand. It was missing the engagement ring.