Wrong Guy

17 | if i was responsible for your death

SONG :
DNA - Lia Marie Johnson

Episode Seventeen:
IF I WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR DEATH

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L A W R E N C E ' S  P O V :

"Fawn!" I yell, staring down at her shivering figure. I told her to wait in the garden, below my bedroom window. I get to help her sneak in, just like in all those cliched books and movies.

Just like the perfect cliche couple.

"I don't – I d-don't want to climb!" She yells up, still bundled up in her coat.

"You too baby? Nah, I'll help you," I smirk, pointing to the lattice on the exterior of the house, "There's my hint,"

"I'm n-not doing that, I'll die."

"Doll, I'd kill myself if you died." 

She stares up at me, eyes wide with shock.
Was it something I said?

"Don't say stuff like that!" She yells, and I nod to myself.
Yeah, it was definitely something I said.

"I'm going through the d-d-door!" She call out, turning to leave, before I curse and swing one foot out the window. It rests down on the pristine white lattice, and I remind myself that this is for Fawn. So she and I can be together. Finally.

She disappeared on me last night.
Naughty.

"Lawrence!" She screams, hands covering her mouth as her face goes red, "Are you trying to k-kill yourself?" She cries, eyes darting from my eyes to my left foot as it rests down beneath me outside.

"Calm down, I'm not gonna get hurt,"

"S-Stop!" She cries, "No, n-no, n-n-n-no, no,"

"Quiet! Do you want my parents to hear?" I ask, spinning my head halfway around so I can see her face, despite my body facing the wall.

"Yes, yes I do, if it m-means you g-get down f-from th-there!" She whimpers, "This isn't g-g-going to go well, this is r-reality! If you fall – if you f-fall you die, Lawrence, and – and you can't die!"

Huh.

I slowly bring my feet down, ledge by ledge I make my way down around halfway, all the while Fawn has sat down on the ground covering her eyes and plugging her ears.

Once I reach the ground, Fawn peaks through her fingers, and bursts out into sobs of relief. She returns to hide in her jacket, but I force her out pulling on her hand. She shakes it away, but the second time around she caves.

"Fawn," I whisper, "I'm fine, nothing was ever going to happen,"

"You could've died!" She screams at me, staring directly into my eyes, directly through to me, and my heart is racing and my hands are shaking and all I can do is look at her.

She cares. She really does care about me.
She finishes yelling, and then decides to grip onto my hand.

"I just – I need to know you're here," she mumbles.

"Hey," I coo, "I'm here."

"If I was responsible for your death, than, than – " her grip grows stronger, "I'd hate myself,"

"Fawn," I try to calm her down, rub her shoulders, like I did back at the car, but she's paralyzed in a state of fear. Horror, terror, trembling nerves, and rattling bones, as the wind whips across her skin, and blows back her hair. Her finger, her ring finger, being rubbed with her thumb. Back. Forth. Back Forth. That comforts her.

Why that? Why is that what calmed her?
Why can't it be me?

I remove my hands from her shoulders, and bring them down to pick up her legs, my other hand to hold her back in place as I carry her down to a small wooden bench in the garden. Her head buries into herself, but her body nestles into mine, her chest expanding, and constricting rhythmically.

"Why'd you do it?" She asks, "Why did you stay th-there when your p-parents said not to?" I sit down on the bench, and wrap her up tighter. Not letting go. Not until someone pries my cold, dead, fingers from her – will anyone see me let go of her.

"I don't have anywhere else to go," I mumble back quietly, "No one really gives a shit about me. Let alone enough to let me stay at their house, in their home – I honestly can't blame them."

"Lawrence?" She inquired, another round of concern gracing her soft features, "If you need help all you have to do is ask someone and we're right here to lend a hand."

"No. I'm good." I respond, looking away from her and at the lattice that very well could've led to my death.
I wonder what it feels like to feel your flesh hit pavement at a high speed. I ponder what death feels like.

"Lawrence, t-this is serious if you need a place to s-stay – "

"Trust me," I smile as genuinely as I can manage, forcing through images I haven't revisited in years, "Everything works itself out the way it's supposed to. Everything happens for a reason."

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12 YEARS AGO:

"Dad, can I just go play?"

"Ask your mother,"

"I don't really want to ask her,"

"Why not?"

"She hates me."

"Why do you think that?"

"She yells,"

"She cries,"

"She says she does,"

"Lawrence, Mommy shouldn't be –

"She says it's cause of you Daddy,"

"That's – "

"Can I play?"

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QUESTIONS:

What did you think of what Lawrence did?

Fawn's reaction?

What Fawn and Lawrence talked about at the end?

The other end?

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
I just wanted to apologize for this being up so late, and for me not writing as much as I bet you were expecting as I was like 250 words short of my usual. My apologies, but we all know how I am about that perfect ending, lol.
Hope you enjoyed it anyways!
-tat <3