I Could Die For You (Editing In Progress)

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  I walked into the small restaurant with nothing more than a pair of jeans on, a Johnny Cash t-shirt, and some yellow construction boots. My hair was pulled up into a bun and my lips were painted with a light pink color. I searched the crowd of tables and people, hoping to see anyone that looked like my dear John.

When the effort seemed to fail, I walked up to the hostess and asked if she had someone under the name Frusciante. She nodded, gave me a smile and lead me to a booth in the back. He was slouched over the table, out cold with a glass of beer next to his head.

"He's been sleeping for about three hours here. We kept asking him if he was waiting for someone and he insisted that, 'Miss Lilly is coming. Miss Lilly is coming.' So, we just tried to keep him awake so he wouldn't unsettle the customers."

I nodded and thanked her for her help, and she scurried off to the front of the restaurant. I took my seat and looked at the mess of greasy brown hair.

"John?" My voice was eager.

He moved his head slightly, like he was trying to block out the sound of his mother's voice on a school day morning.

"John, it's Lilly."

His head shot up. His eyes were bloodshot, and his pupils were almost not there. His cheekbones were sticking out, more than usual and his jaw cracked when he opened it to stretch.

He looked at me for several minutes before he said anything. When he spoke, his voice was dry.

"Kinky Kinks."

"Fruey Fru." I said, blankly and blandly.

His arms were exposed in a green t-shirt that hung around his thin –and I mean practically skin and bones- frame. I noticed the sores and fresh holes from shooting up, but I couldn't bring myself to acknowledge the abyss John had fallen into.

He laughed. "Lilly, tell me you are well."

"I am." I said, studying his every feature, afraid that he would disappear any moment.

He smiled, but it faded seconds later. "I am wonderful."

My heart broke, but I replied. "That's good, dear John."

His head nodded yes, "I am scared, though, Lilly."

"Of what?"

He blinked fast, maybe to scare away tears, but he licked his lips and aggressively scratched down the length of his arm. He ripped open scabs that bled right away and left red marks.

"The needle I love so much."

My heart skipped several beats and I sat up I bed breathless. Anthony was asleep next to me, and my shirt had been buttoned down several sections. My breasts were slightly exposed, because Anthony decided he wanted to fall asleep with one of them gently cupped in his hand.

I clutched my breast, feeling for a heartbeat. When I caught it, it was hard to recognize at all. It was pounding so fast, it felt like it was one all together. Tears fell down my cheeks as I thought back to my recent dream. It had been months since my lunch date with John, and it haunted my dreams almost every week at one point for two months. I thought it had gone away, until tonight.

I pulled the sheets back from the bed and rushed down stairs for a glass of water. My breaths escaped rarely and receiving them back in my body was even harder. Once I drank a sip, I calmed down and was able to cry silently without much notice. John scared me, and I loved him as much as a brother.

When I thought I had been down too long, I returned to Anthony's side with somewhat dry eyes. As soon as my body relaxed on the mattress, Anthony clutched me tightly in his arms. He let out a deep sigh and kissed me softly on the cheek.

My heart ached, and I felt scared to sleep again.