Sucker For Pain | t.h

NINE

  "Tom!" My voice raised, bringing him out his state to look at me. My eyebrows were pressed into a worried expression, because I was. I was worried for him. Id never seen him like this and I didn't like it.

  "What's wrong?.." I asked, my voice quiet.

   He shook his head. "Nothings wrong. Are these ingredients for lasagna?-" He quickly snapped back to his rambling and completely ignoring my worried presence, trying to cover for something again.

  "You know, my mom used to make the most amazing lasagna with like all these herbs that.. I couldn't name, b-but they were good and made the lasagna good." His voice was shaking slightly and I could feel a nervous lump form in my throat. "I haven't had lasagna in a really long time, like a really, really long time. I think the last time I had lasagna, I was- shit- like eleven. My mom made it.." He trailed off.

He paused. "And then she died..."

  I slowly stepped forwards again, my hand gently reaching to touch him. Was that was he was going on like this? Because of his mom? I frowned, trying to get him back as my hand touched his arm, trying to get his attention without him spiraling into another frenzy of strange sentences.

My fingers gently brush his shoulder, enough pressure to get his attention. His strange behavior made me cautious.

I gasped when my wrist was suddenly in his tight grasp, his long fingers wrapped firmly around my arm in a swift and hard motion. He held my wrist tight, almost as if I were about to strike him and he'd done it to protect himself.

His body wasn't fully turned to me but his head was, his eyes staring deep into mine as I now looked into his watery eyes which were tinged in red. I felt my stomach turn at the sight. I never thought i'd see him cry, and especially not like this.

"This is all my fault." He whispered.

His grip tightened and I could feel a large pain shoot through my arm making me gasp quietly. He didn't move, his grip just kept getting tighter, with every thought racing through his head, his grip hardened.

  He was completely away from his mind. His head seemed empty as he stared, almost as if he were sailing away on a lonely boat in the middle of the ocean, filled with a fear that showed that anything to get him now, in this vulnerable, defenseless state.

  "Tom.." I said quietly. "Let go of me."

    "What?..."

"You're hurting me, please let go." I said pained, his grip getting so tight that my eyes began to water and an fearful burn kindled inside of my chest.

  I whimpered, trying to tug my arm out of his strong grasp which he seemed devoid from seeing. He was plagued entirely. It was scary. His demeanor and being changed completely, stripping him from his terrifying conceal enemy.

  His eyes shot to my arm, where his fingers left an already forming redness, his nails practically digging into my skin. He quickly retracted his hand, pulling it to his chest as if it were an uncontrolled creature of danger.

  He took a step forward, reaching for my arm as if trying to see what he'd done, but I retreated a step back in return, pulling my arm to my chest, my eyes wide with a detectable fear, one almost similar to the one I felt a few nights ago.