wrapped books | lrh {rewriting} | joseph is dallas, rewriting still in process

0.3

Connie and I were both half way through our fourth movie of the night when she decided to start crying again.

I crawled over to the other side of the couch and wrapped my arms around her, letting her bury her face in the crook of my neck. I tried to calm her down by telling her it was okay, but she just shook her head.

"What am I gonna do?" She hiccuped. "I can't face him after what I did!"

"Con, you've got to get a hold of yourself. I'm sure you can discuss this problem with him reasonably," I sighed.

As much as I loved Connie, I was never good at giving advice. She knew that too, but neither of us had anyone better to go to when we're upset. If one of use was upset and came to talk to the other we wouldn't actually talk, more like drown our sorrows in pizza and ice cream while watching a cheesy movie. Kind of like how we are now.

"No, I don't want to, I can't look into those brown eyes without crying and messing everything up," She continued to sob.

We were quiet for a few minutes, the only sound made were Connie's sobs and her sudden gasps for air.

"You know, maybe I wouldn't be in this mess if you would've just came along," she spoke quietly, almost like she didn't want me to hear her.

I pulled myself off the couch abruptly and began heading out of the living room.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm clearing the garbage up," I lied, not picking up a single taco wrapper on my way towards the kitchen.

I heard her feet padded quickly against the floor before her arms swooped over my shoulder and her body weight leaned on my back.

I let out a grunt, leaning on the wall of the hallway by the kitchen to keep balance as Connie nuzzled her face in between my shoulder blades.

"I'm sorry, I'm not mad at you so please don't be mad at me," Connie said in between her sobs.

"You sure did sound mad," I mumbled, dropping my gaze to my bare feet and sighed.

"I'm just upset, please, Maia, I'm sorry. Don't be mad," Connie begged like a child begging her mom.

"I'm not mad," I whispered to clarify, pinching the bridge of my nose like I had a headache, "just don't pin the blame on me."

"I wasn't trying to," Connie assured, "I'm just really upset and my mind is jumbled up with negative things and- and," she said quickly without catching her breath and hiccuping in the end after her loss for words.

She had a tight grip around my shoulders and she was kind of weighing me down so I tried leaning more forward to stay on my feet. The back of my shirt is almost as soaked as my sleeve since she cried so much on both.

She was so delicate, it aches my heart knowing how fragile she could be. It usually takes a lot to get Connie to cry so I guess this whole thing was pretty much a huge deal that she can't even mentally take it.

"I need your help, Maia," was what Connie said, but she obviously meant something else.

She claims to need my help but what she was actually saying was I want you to stay quiet while I cry my heart out for a while, don't do anything strange.

Nobody needed my help. I was just there to hold them. No one actually needs me since I'm no help at all. I'm better off not existing in these situations.