Loving yourself is hard. Trying to find love in a family who objectified you? Seems like work. But try finding love in someone as a hopeless romantic too.
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Smart, nerdy, pretty, and kind are all the words she's gotten used to. Being a Junior in...
I frowned, then sighed, then waved the brochure, "fuck weakness. Satan knows she's it."
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"Better?" Henry said, placing my glass of water down on the table before sitting beside me, watching me with pitiful eyes. But even they couldn't erase the image of the hungry eyes I barely escaped.
I shook the thought away.
"Yeah, thanks, Henry." I smiled weakly and he does too, looking out the window and shifting on his seat.
"I can't believe they actually did that to you." He whispered, "they're sick."
"Well, I've been here before. " I replied. "I'm sure Danica would have a mouthful when she sees it." My humor doesn't seem to work upon my command today. Maybe it knows I've had enough to think today; to feel even.
I need him out of my head. I want him out of my head.
"Why didn't you call me?" Henry laughed nervously, looking at me with pained eyes, and I freeze.
"Well..." I begin but couldn't really find the right explanation. Maybe it's because of what happened before with him telling me how he liked me, or something like that. Or maybe it's because I know he would be been overprotective otherwise and I wasn't wrong. There would've been a clear reason why I didn't call him first but I can't seem to figure that out.
"I just didn't want you to worry, " I lied and he sighs painfully.
"Yeah, I understand." He smiled, "but you don't need to worry about me. Worry about you first. Be selfish for a little while. Rest and get better."
The bed rises as he does, looking down on me with disappointment in his eyes, though he tries to hide it like a jester. That trick barely works on me though. I feel bad for lying, sure, but truly, I've got other things to think of rather than him. It pains me to think that but it's true.
I've got my parents to worry about and Matteo. Having the thought of him around another guy is even more bizarre to me.
"You're leaving?" I asked, wincing as my eyes flexed, hitting the bruise.
"Yeah, " he grabbed his bag, "I need to do some homework and you need some rest. Just message me if anything." With that, he smiles one last time before walking out leaving me to the confines of my room.
I sighed, laying back carefully to not hurt anything else. Looking up at the white ceiling and the light, my vision was replaced by the deep green eyes was staring at just an hour ago.
They weren't the same volatile once. They were soft and gentle, a longing passion in them; the kind that sends a chill down my spine like a curse. I didn't know how to feel at that moment but I knew that my heart was on overdrive. Miles it went while my kind stopped in seconds. A malfunction within my own creation and I was that close to making a rash decision. If I hadn't worked at the right time then something would've happened.
