His Beautiful Mess (Under Editing)

Part 13

"Thats pretty much it. My mother eventually found out at some point and she was devastated. S-she forced me to go for therapy.....it was either that or lock me up in an institution till I got better....a-and I am better now, but I do get anxiety attacks from time to time." I whishered into his chest, staring blankly into space.

We had been talking for what seemed like eternity, well I was doing all the talking whiles he held me and listened. It was really difficult at first to just open up to him but after much contemplation and making an effort to begin, I felt comfortable and relaxed. He'd already seen my scars might as well bare my soul to him, I thought to myself.

"But why your stomach." Yale asked. running a finger up and down my exposed arm, making goosebumps erupt on my skin.

"It was e-easier to hide and cover it up."

Letting out a shaky breath, I tried to get out of the bed and stretch my tired legs but Yale tightened his hold, not allowing me any chance to get free of him. My stomach chose that exact moment to growl, making me squeeze my face in embarrassment, why did things like this always happen to me, I questioned myself. I quietly settled back down hoping beyond anything Yale hadn't actually heard that.

His chest resounding with a rumble of laughter certified my fear, yeap, he had clearly heard it alright.

"I-I'm sorry, I didnt mean to." I quickly apologized burrying my face deeper into his chest.

"Will you stop apologizing for everything and anything. Or its something you love to do?" He stopped laughing to question me.

"I'm......"

"You better not be apologizing again." He cut me off, looking down at me with harden hazel eyes.

I bit my lips and nodded my head in understanding before getting out of the bed. Why was he nice one moment and strict the next? Was he bipolar or something? I thought to myself looking around for my glasses. I smiled to myself thinking about how nice it was to talk to someone who wasn't paid to listen to me and for some strange reason I really felt unburden and free after talking to him. Two years of therapy hadnt yielded this result but a few hours of him holding me and talking had? What in God's name was wrong with me.

"Do you still want to see what's outside.?" He asked from across the room but I pretended not to have heard him. No way was I ready to face his family again.

"I asked a question."

"Huh?" I turned to him not meeting his gaze.

"Just come with me." And with that he grabbed hold of his walking aid and left the room.

I found my glasses on the bedside table and hurriedly picked it up, slipped my sandals on and grabbed my phone before running after him.

~~
We were outside the house and the view of it was truly majestic and breathtaking. He was leading us down a rocky pathway which seemed to lead to a dock where two speedboats were already nestled at both sides of it.

"W-where are we going?" I asked from behind him taking cautious steps in order not to trip.

He kept on moving ahead, totally ignoring my question, for someone who had one bad leg he sure could walk and move fast. We got to the dock with me still trailing behind him with the sun in my eyes and the cool breeze blowing over my skin and through my hair. Yale got into the speedboat on the right before stretching out his hand for me to take it. I stood there watching his hand, never had I been on a speedboat and much less on a big vast ocean and I was unsure whether to get on or just decline.

"We dont have all day you know, and its totally safe if thats what you worried about." He said as a way of coaxing me to get on board.

"Alright." I hesitantly said still not sure.