Breaking The Mirror [Edited And Complete]

Lessons

I have good ears, why didn't I hear him come in?

"Great..." I breathe as we get to the front door. He sets me against the wall, but before he lets go he looks down at my injuries.

"Can you stand?"

"Yes," I answer automatically, and I do, resting almost my entire weight against the wall. He removes his leather jacket and slips it over my shoulders. Wha...?

"You don't want to go out there like this, do you?" He raises an eyebrow as he slips my arms through the sleeves. He then swings my arm back around him, his own arm wound firmly around my waist as he helps me out the door.

"I... I have to clean..." I say as we approach his door and he scoffs as he pulls out the keys and opens it.

"Right, like I'll let you go back," he snarls and my heart freezes.

"What? No, I have to go back," I protest as he leads me into his apartment and then sets me on the couch. He walks away, pretending he hasn't heard me, and returns with tweezers, the horrible brown bottle of stinging stuff and a bandage wrap. "I really have to go back... you don't understand..."

"You're right, I don't fucking understand," He scowls, taking out a swab and pouring some of that stinging liquid onto it, "I've never been beaten to a pulp by my own father, but what I do understand is the fact that you're leaving."

"I –"

"Don't argue with me," He snaps fiercely, "Tell me what happened this time."

"I... I broke the mirror," I explain nervously.

"You broke it?" He questions as he dabs a bit of that stuff on my arm, where it's the worst. Ow. He looks at my hand and then smiles softly, "Like... you were angry and you punched it?"

I nod curtly.

"Interesting," He's fucking happy about that? "You're always so controlled and composed. It's nice to see you lose your temper."

I sigh, "Why are you so interested?"

He uses the tweezers to pull out a few pieces of glass from my forearm and I wince with each one. He lets out a long, slow and deep breath.

"I don't know."

Well, that explains it.

-

Almost an hour later he's done wrapping me up and my skin is glass free, albeit in a lot of pain. He then walks out the door with a cigarette, and I assume he's going to smoke, but he doesn't come back for a long time. I just sit on the couch, bandages holding me in place. The cuts on my stomach really aren't so bad. They should be healed in a couple of weeks but the ones on my left arm will be scarred for a long while.

Twenty minutes later, he returns.

I look up at him as he leans against the wall opposite me, staring at me. I shift, disconcerted by those eyes, and then finally open my mouth to speak. I talk more with him than other people. I wonder why that is.

"I have to go back," I tell him, letting my jade eyes connect with his.

He just looks at me for a long time, the hard, stony gaze that makes me shudder. Then, slowly, he looks away.

"Yeah," He responds, "I know."

-

When I get home, I go directly to the bathroom to clean up my mess, only to find that it isn't there. There isn't a trace of glass on the tile and the broom is leaning against the wall. I'll have to put that away... but... he did this. Seaton did this.