Protecting What's Mine(Complete)

Chapter Eleven - Always His Trouble

Chapter Eleven - Always His Trouble
•Sang•

I stand in my closet wearing only a matching bra and panties. My eyes are darting all around, trying to find something to wear. However, the clothes in this closet it the old Sang. There's a lot of pink, which is still my favourite colour, but no longer who I am today. I'm now a female North. Lots of black. 

A frustrated sigh leaves me and I go over to the jeans and start looking through them. "There's a pair of dark blue jeans at the end of the rail."

I freeze and slowly turn my head until I meet baby blue eyes. Gabriel is leaning against the door frame wearing a orange polo top with a pair of light blue jeans with some rips down the leg. His hand is up by his ear, nervously fiddling with his earrings. "How long have you been standing there?"

He sighs and stands up straighter, coming into the closet. He goes by me and unhooks a pair of dark blue jeans from the hanger. "A minute or two." He holds them out to me and I take them from him. His blue eyes come up to meet mine. "Needed to be fucking close to you, to talk to you, but I honestly don't fucking know what to say now." His eyes flicker to a mirror behind me and I look over my shoulder. He has the perfect view of my back and I close my eyes. He doesn't need to see those. I shift my back from sight and start pulling on the skinny jeans. "Your back is a fucking mess."

I nod. "I know." I whisper, pulling the jeans up my thighs and around my hips, buttoning them up. They're a bit loose but not to much. I'm sure I can find a belt.

"What did that asshole use?" He asks. I shake my head. I don't want to tell him. He doesn't need to be tainted with the image. "Tell me."

I swallow. "I don't want to."

"I want to to fucking know what scarred up my Trouble, so fucking tell me, please." His Trouble. I'm still his Trouble and my dark heart glows at that. He even said please.

I press my lips together and just stare at him. He's fighting back tears but he doesn't break eye contact. "A belt, the buckle end." I whisper. "Sometimes a knife." You can tell which item was used the most. The jagged, raised, thick scars are the belt buckle, the neater ones are the knife.

"Motherfucker." He drops his head and runs his finger through his normally perfect hair. He doesn't say thing as he turns and goes to the back of the closet and starts going through the tops. When he finds one, he takes it of the hanger and brings it over to me. It's a dark pink chiffon blouse. I take it from his outstretched hand and slip it on. It's loose and light and slightly see through. I button it up just past my breasts. "Nice tattoo's by the way."

I'm surprised he noticed. Luke is the only one that has actually took notice. I've been butt naked in front of North and Sean and they didn't seem to notice. If they did, they didn't say anything. "Thanks."

He chucks a pair of socks in my direction and I sit on the floor and pull them on. He collects a black leather jacket that has studs in the collar and zips up at the side. Fancy compares to my normal plain ones at home. He also collects a pair of black suede knee high boots. He hands me the boots first and I pull them on before standing up. He doesn't pass me the jacket, instead he nods towards the bedroom. "I'm going to do your hair. Been to long since I last had my fucking hands on it."

I smile and nod, turning and going back into the bedroom. I won't deny him doing this. I go straight over to the dressing table where the hairdryer lays. Even that is still in the same place to where he left it the night before I 'died'. The thought makes me sad. Have none of them been in my room since then?

Sitting down, I allow him to comb my tangled and knotted hair. "Do you not brush your hair?"

"Not often, no. I normally wash it, let it dry and then either put it in a pony tail, messy bun or a braid." I tell him. Doing my hair was something I always forgot to do. Every time I washed my hair, Gabriel would dry it. When a new day started, he was there styling it. Also another reason I've let it get so long. No one touches my hair but him, my beautiful Meanie. "You always did my hair, so it was a habit to just leave it."

He nods his head, his eyes focused on my hair. He opens his mouth to say something but then stops and shakes his head. "I keep going to call you Trouble. It's on the tip of my fucking tongue every time but I stop myself from saying it."

"Why?" I want the answer to this. I noticed when Sean was here he kept calling me Sang. He did call me Pookie once though.

His eyes meet mine through the mirror. He picks up the hair dryer and brush. "Your not Trouble. I called you Trouble all those years ago because you kept finding trouble, or trouble found you. This time, it's not trouble your in, but a complete fucking mess."

The the hair dryer starts, cutting of the conversation. Well, that's what he thinks anyway. This isn't over.

He drys my hair like he always used to and I sit and watch him; the concentration on his face, the determination and wonder in his eyes, the way he moves his arms and angles the hair dryer in certain ways.

As soon as he turns the hairdryer of the words I've been wanting to say slip from my mouth. "I'll always be your Trouble, just like you'll always be my Meanie."

His wet eyes meet mine and then he's dropping to his knees, the hairdryer and brush still in his hands. I quickly turn in my seat, gripping his shoulders and pulling him towards me. He drops the items in his hands and wraps his arms around my waist as he rests his heads on my thigh. My fingers start running through his hair and I let him cry; I let him release all the anger and the hurt he feels through his tears. This is my Gabriel, my Meanie. He acts tough but really, he's soft, so damn soft with a sensitive heart. Out of all of them, this is who I expected the breakdown from the most.

His shoulders shake with his sobs, his tears wet my jeans and his nose runs, but I don't care. Gabriel needs this.

I also let my own silent tears fall as he holds me tight and simply sobs. What I have done to my boys?

Gabriel calms down after a few minutes. He doesn't release his hold on me, nor does he move his head from my thighs. My fingers continue to softly stroke through his hair. "They fucking hurt and I hate that. Motherfuckers have done things to you that will always stay with you. Someone like you, some so beautiful and kind shouldn't need to go through such fucking dark things."

He sniffs and lifts his head. I cup my hands around his face and start wiping away the wet trails from his tears. "After everything, your still so fucking perfect and I fucking love you."

I give him a small but real smile. "I love you, too." I tell him.

"Fucking good. If you didn't, I would have found and fucking way to make you love me again." I grin down at him before placing a quick kiss on his lips, holding it for a few seconds before breaking it. He gently slaps my thigh as he grins up at me. "Now, let me finish your hair."