Just Not to Your Face

Brian.

Vulnerable. All though you’re almost back to a decent mental level now, you still feel as if you have this big, bleeding, open wound that’s in need for healing. To hold him in your arms again have been just like a dream. Also a nightmare, because this was nothing as you expected it to be. Zacky’s warm fingers still clenched around your shirt. His sweat hair spread out on your chest. Oh god, how you’re been missing those hair streaks. Black silk… So soft. So beautiful. They’re slowly falling off his head. It’s a nightmare.

The last 24 hours have been the most challenging thing you’ve experienced. You’ve met yourself in the doorway. Giving you a reality slap. You deserved it. Now everything is different. They say tears help clearing your skin.. if that’s true, Zacky’s skin must be the skin of an angel. But hey, you already new that didn’t you? The thought hurts so much that you pick up the magazine that’s laying on the bedside table. Laying in a hospital bed with the one you love are a thing you hoped you only would have to do when you went old and gray.. Maybe that would be the time it could be okay to die from cancer? You’re not sure. Even though you’re trying to read a magazine, the thoughts in your head won’t stop flaming up like some phoenix that gets reborn.

You have made up your mind though. There’s only one thing that’s gonna save your darling, and that’s a bone marrow. God damn it, you’re gonna find it.

Zacky.

His smell. His arms. His heartbeat. The only thing that really kept you alive. The thought of him. Newfound strength is pulsing through your mind and body. It’s like he brought the light he took back with him, and he gave it to you when you needed it the most. Your hands are clenched around the fabric that is his t-shirt. He breaths normal, but you know that he’s worked up because you hear his heartbeat. Oh god how you’ve missed that beat. That warmth, loving touches…

He’ve been here in about two days. You haven’t talked much, due to the fact that you’re sick, weak. He have been fighting. Talking to doctors for god knows how long. So therefore you thought, you couldn’t let him down when he fought for you, could you?

Things looks just a tad brighter today.. Just like the time you were lying In your bed, crying your eyes out, in the darkness.. He was sitting outside the door, cried his eyes out too. You were both teens.

You ley on the bed, your hands around your shoulders, your warm blanket was laying over you but the cold and broken feeling in your heart wasn’t going to be warmed up in the nearest future.
You whimpered in pain. Not any physical, but psychic pain, which was eating your broken heart piece for piece, just like some evil cookie monster. If there is any cookie monsters that eats hearts.

The snow was falling outside with soft flakes making a gray light shine through your window, casting a shadow at you that made you look sick. Which was true.

“Why?” You whispered in the darkest side of the room. Your eyes were heavy from earlier sad hours, the tears you had shed, and the sobs that had slipped through your pink plush lips.
The hammering at his door had stopped several hours ago, but you hadn’t heard any footsteps, so you assumed that no one had left. The thought got confirmed a second later, when you heard someone shift position against the door.
The most terrible thing to do to a person is breaking their heart. That’s like to kill them 100 times. So why did you still care?
Love.. Stupid. Fucking. Hopeless. Addicting. Love
Start with love and ends with emptiness.. or worse. No heart. No fucking loving touches, kisses, not able to feel, think, eat or…breath…

So young and fragile. Not much had changed, right? You would never forget the way you got him back again. The feeling in your heart when he answered your childish, but yet important question about him loving you or not. Just like old times..

“Do you regret falling in love… With me?” You hear your voice shake frantically, but you’re stumbling further into madness.
“No.. Never.”
“Then WHY?”
“I’m sorry.” Same fucking excuse as every single love story in the fucking universe.
“Z-Zee?” He’s shaking
“Yeah..” You breath
“I L-love you” Sob.
“Let me in please..” How can You? Why ? ‘you love him’.

“Same fucking excuse as every single love story in the entire universe…” You whisper against his chest.

“What? Did you say something baby?”

You repeat the sentence, only louder and clearer this time, you’re frowning. Trying to open your eyes. You want to see those chocolate colored eyes that you fell so madly in love with again.

He takes your hand. “What excuse are you talking about, baby?” He asks carefully.

“The excuse that I can’t let you go. I love you.” You whisper just as quiet. But this time, he hears you clearly. “Oh Zacky..” He whimpers, hugging you tight. Then he bends down a little and kisses you.

“I love you too.” His eyes are filled with tears, which you can’t stand to see.

“Don’t fucking cry to me again, Brian. I don’t want to see you cry again for a while. Cry only if I die.” You sigh, wiping the tears away from his prominent cheekbones. You’re not usually this harsh, which makes him chuckle lightly, because he finds it slightly amusing but also because its bittersweet.

“You’re not gonna die.” His tone is secure, like he’s the one to decide if that’s gonna happen or not.

You just snort. “You’re gonna make sure of it?” Your tone is gentle, not mocking him, but still kind of unsure. “You can bet your life on it.”
“I kind of do.” You yawn then go back to sleep.

Brian.

He snores softly. Your weird, loving ball of sunshine. Ironic isn’t it?
You’re about to fall asleep yourself, when you hear a knocking on the door. You’re seriously not in the mood to fight with a nurse or a doctor about laying in the same bed as their patient, but since Zacky is fast asleep , you take the chance. Not that you’re gonna move an inch anyway. You’re not letting go of him. They’re gonna have to drag you away if that’s what they want.
It’s not a doctor. You’re staring at someone that could have been your sister by her looks, but she is not. “What?” You moan.

“I’ve found someone that can donate bone marrow.” She’s calm, the smile on her face is bright and happy.

“What?” The words doesn’t seem to sink in at first..

“Who?”

“Me.”