Me before you

chapter 19

So maybe it was a little over the top to order a dozen red roses sent to Sana's house (apparently Louis had opened the door to them, and taken them with a whoop of excitement). Maybe it was weirding her out a little wearing one of her old dresses she didn't know Sarah had kept after the accident. And maybe the fancy restaurant was a little cliché. But she wanted to at least try and do this justice. She had to try, at least.

About ten minutes after their toast she started to feel people staring.

Y/n swallowed, feeling the eyes on her and staring back down at the tablecloth. There had been a slightly awkward commotion when they'd arrived, and the waiter had to get rid of the second chair at the table to make room for her wheelchair instead, but Sana had given him what was potentially the most terrifying death stare Y/n had ever seen and he'd just rushed to do it without a word.

She was pretty sure Sana hadn't noticed these ones.

She swallowed hard around the lump suddenly lodged in her throat. It was only a few stares, she reasoned with herself. Just a few pitying glances. Awkward glances. Nervous eyes darting back over the mechanical black chair supporting her, voices lowered and hushed. Tongue darting out to wet her lips, Y/n stared into her lap. Her cheeks suddenly felt hot, skin crawling with the feel of eyes on her. Pity directed at her, coming at her in waves.

Oh god, Y/n thought, spike of discomfort knifing through her chest. She knew the set of feelings creeping up on her better than anything. She recognised how suddenly they appeared with no warning, threatening to pull her under. She thought they'd gone away. Please no. Not here. Not now. It was already happening. Suddenly, everyone in the whole world seemed to be judging her, pitying her, staring, pitying, pitying, pitying. Her chest felt too tight.

No, Y/n realized, not just me.

Heart thudding in her chest, she found the courage to stare up at Sana, who was sipping her drink happily unaware of the eyes on them. On her. They're pitying Sana, Y/n realized, fear writhing like a mass of snakes in her belly. They're looking at her and wondering why such a beautiful, sophisticated, perfect fucking woman is sitting opposite a useless cripple. Her hands ached to tighten into fists on their own.

An inanimate object.

"Y/n?" Y/n blinked, head jerking up sharply as Sana's soft, rich voice pulled her from her thoughts. The brunette was staring at her, fork paused between her manicured fingers. Her dark eyes were wide and searching, shining with concern. "Y/n? Are you okay?"

"What?" Y/n swallowed; her mouth was dry. Pity, pity. She couldn't think of anything to say. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Sana didn't look convinced, perfect brow twisting into a frown as she studied her. The lights from the candles danced in her eyes, turning them to coffee and gold.

God.

She couldn't be there anymore. She had to get away, away from it all, had to hide somewhere in the dark where she couldn't see her reflection in the wine glass or see the pity or feel it in her tight itching chest. Go, go, she had to – she couldn't. Struggling to control her voice in her throat, Y/n avoided her eye and managed to press down on the wheelchair button to draw back from the table a few inches."Come on, Sana, let's just go."

"What?"

"Call the waiter over, I'm paying." Y/n told her, looking down at her half-empty plate. She couldn't face those eyes. She couldn't breathe. "I just really don't want to be here right now."

"Why, what's happening?" Sana's brows twisted in surprise, big dark eyes wide and confused. "Talk to me Y/n, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Sana." Y/n snapped. She hated how edgy she sounded but she just had to get away. "I don't want to talk about it. You should understand that, I didn't pressure you when you didn't want to."