Forelsket

The garage was dark; the only light came from the corner blocked by the hood of a very old Camaro. My footsteps echoed throughout the large space but the person creating a shadow behind the hood didn’t move. I pulled the leather jacket tighter around me as I got closer to the car. Faintly the sound of a wrench clicking met with my footsteps.

“Hello,” I said into the abyss to no answer. My heart began to beat faster. My hands began to shake. A bead of sweat trailed down my face slowly. “Alex?” I said cautiously moving next to the hood.

I heard “Shit,” as he slammed his head into the hard metal. He took a couple steps back, pulled off a set of giant headphones off his head and rubbed giant red mark slowly pushing his hair back.

“I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” I exclaimed rushing to him to look at the redness on his temple. My fingers slowly moved around the spot eliciting huffs of pain with each light press on his smooth tan skin. “You should put ice on this.” I caught myself looking in his hazel eyes with my comment. Today they were gold with accents of green around the edges. Quickly I diverted my gaze to my hands and took a couple steps back bumping into the car.

“Hey,” Alex mumbled awkwardly. “What are you doing here?”

I took a deep breath and pulled off the jacket. I held it out for him, extending my arm as far as it would go. “I came to return this.”

His hand wrapped around mine as he took the worn leather jacket. “Thanks.” He laugh quietly tossing it on a chair situated next to the car.

He was wearing an Aerosmith shirt covered in grease. The shirt was cut off at the shoulder accentuating his toned arms and just enough to see the tattoo on his side. I began to rub my neck and divert my gaze to the floor. “I should get going, sorry again for scaring you.”

“Gwen,” he spoke seconds after I turned around. I closed my eyes and debated on turning around. “How is he?” he questioned, his voice low, tainted with concern.

I turned around and folded my arms across my chest. “He’ll be fine. Uh, the doctors say he should make a recovery.” I bit my lip and tried to smile, but he could see the falsehood behind my face.

“How ‘bout us?”

I could feel my eyes well up and began scratching my arm fiercely. “I don’t know.”

He nodded in a solemn understanding before rubbing his head again. “Shit,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry. Do you want me to get you some ice?”

“No it’s fine,” he lied.

“It’s my fault, let me help.” I grabbed his wrist softly. “Please.”

“In the office, there is a fridge…” he paused to think. “There should be a couple ice packs in freezer, I hope.”

“You don’t need a doctor right? Because my dad’s one, he could…” I rambled, my lips quivering, my gaze locking with his.

“Gwen,” his free hand came up to my face, his thumb rubbed my cheek slowly. “I’m here for you, you know that right?”

I nodded, slowly a tear slipping out. He wiped it away and pulled me into a hug. I could feel his arms tight around my waist. My hands tugged at the awful, dirty shirt trying to get as close to him as possible. He ran his fingers through my hair slowly carefully trying not to catch any knots. I could hear his heartbeat, each thump even and strong. The light drum pushed back my urge to sob in his arms.

“I’m sorry,” I pushed away. “Ice.” I noted and began walking toward the office behind him.

“Gwen,” he said my name again slowly, breathlessly. “Don’t walk away again.”

“I’m just getting ice.” I smiled. He didn’t believe me. I didn’t blame him. I wouldn’t believe me either if I was in his shoes.