Hidden

I watched in horror as she quietly wove her way through the crowd, and sat down in a chair next to me.

"Are you okay?" she asked softly, her voice as smooth and sweet as honey.

I couldn't find the words to say, to answer her. It was hard for me to look into her eyes. When I did, I saw that they were no longer hard and glittery like black diamonds. They were soft and smothering, like the sun on a late spring day.

She repeated herself, still quiet and reached up to my face. Involuntarily, I moved away from her gentle touch. "I'm sorry," she apologized, and it was almost more than I could stand.

"No, I'm sorry. Please excuse me," I said, and waited for her to move; she had blocked my only way out of the corner.

Something flashed across her eyes, hardening them slightly. "What happened?" she coaxed, putting a soft, cool hand on my arm.

"Why are your hands so cold?" I asked curiously.

"My hands are always cold. But what happened to your face?"

"I fell down the stairs." It wasn't a lie.

She bit her lip and reached up again, and I held still as she brushed an elegant finger against a cut. "Looks like somebody pushed you down."

I stood. I didn't want my girl to be more tainted than she already was by me. "I'm fine. Please, let me by."

She stood, also, and was a couple of inches shorter than me. "You're not fine. You don't look like that and just say you're fine." Her voice was slightly scathing, and I knew that she knew that something was wrong with me.

Only spoke to me for less than five minutes, and she could already tell. How obvious was I? Was I truly that exposed? Thoughts raced ruthlessly through my head.

"Please let me by."

She grinded her jaw, but stepped aside. I felt her watching me as I left, and I heard her say, "I'm going to find out what's wrong, if it's the last thing I do."

What she didn't know was that it may be.