Stars Can't Shine Without Darkness

14. Before. Not B4. We speak English. Not Bingo

“Shit,” he breathed out and shut his eyes tightly hoping to block out the pain. He opened his eyes slowly, looked down at himself to find that he was devoid of his clothes apart from his boxers, and found his entire left side was covered in purple and black bruises and peppered with cuts. He had a deep ugly gash running from his right shoulder all the way down to his left hip. 

What surprised him though that his cuts were cleaned and he had the odd plaster covering parts of the gash as if someone had used them as makeshift stitches to hold it all together? It is also how he noticed for the first time that his hands were bandaged up. There was a thin layer of bandages then they looked as if they were covered with a layer of boxing tape. 

Deacon’s face lifted to meet Kris’s. She was looked at him with big sad eyes, but there was something else in them. What was that? Guilt? It couldn’t possibly be. “I’m so sorry,” Kris whispered. “I didn’t see you or hear the bike coming. It’s my fault you’re like this. I just ran across the road and then I saw you lying there. I thought I had killed you.” 

Deacon smirked about to make light about the conversation, probably throw in a joke about suing her unless she kissed him, but stopped when he saw the expression on her face. Her skin paled and she looked physically sick, salty tears trailed from her eyes and her breathing was heavy. The girl looked mortified. 

“Hey, I’m fine,“ Deacon attempted to jump up but fell back down to the bed, he let a wounded sound and Kris sniffled and looked away from him in shame. “Look at me I’m fine,” this time Deacon succeeded in pushing himself up from the bed. His knees nearly went from underneath him but he managed to stay up as he made his way towards Kris. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered again. Deacon wrapped his arms around her and engulfed her in his embrace. Kris just stood there frozen in his arms. Her face was suddenly devoid of emotion as she stared right through Deacons chest as if he was not there. It unnerved the boy holding her as he looked down at her. “I’m sorry James.” 

Deacon froze. Who the fuck is James? 

Somehow, Kris had removed herself from his arms and he had not even noticed. He turned around and there she was standing with a smirk on her face and holding two paintbrushes, one in either hand. One was covered with dark purple and the other with teal. She threw the paintbrush his way and he only just managed to catch it by the handle.

“C’mon Princess we’ve got walls to paint,” Kris smiled before turning to face the next white wall and pushed the next round of sheets against the wall. Kris took a breath and started splashing. Deacon just stared at the girl who had been in tears not even a minute ago. He didn’t understand how she had gone from train wreck to perfect without even the use of makeup. 

Snapping out of his momentary shock, he stood by Kris’s side and began to splatter the walls with teal paint. He smiled this was the most relaxing pointless thing he had done in ages. Deacon was standing painting the bedroom walls of the girl who was not afraid of him. It was soothing. 

Soon enough the pair had got into a rhythm and almost the entire of Kris‘s bedroom was painted. Deacon being unable to bend due to the tightening of his bruises so he painted the top half of the walls while Kris was on her knees painting the bottom half. The both messed around and Deacon would stop suddenly so Kris was face plant into his legs and knock her off her knees. 

However Kris started to note the times when he was about to stop and she picked up the courage enough to bite him on the leg the next time he stopped. Deacon yelped and jumped away from her only to knock into the wall and found splatters of paint down his uninjured arm. He looked at his arm then back at the girl who was still on her knees with her mouth hanging open.