——
'And if love be madness, may I never find sanity again.'
~ John Mark Green ~
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The Sun and the Moon
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Isabelle
My happiness from yesterday was short-lived. After eating an impressively made cake, and swimming in the backyard all day, I welcomed my bed with open arms. Only, my bed didn't keep me safe.
The last time I had a vivid nightmare about what happened was a year ago. I had to accept the fact that I can't control my dreams, and sometimes they don't even need to be triggered to happen.
Although I have a sneaking suspicion that this one was caused by the conversation I had with Luna when she was still in the hospital. It was bound to catch up with me eventually.
This one just happened to be a very bad one. I woke up in a panic-like state, thinking he was in my room. It took about an hour for my body to finally give up and realize that it wasn't something real that happened. Just a bad dream.
Though, even after I had calmed down, my mind was still a little messed up, leaving me an overall mess. I took a long shower around 5 a.m, and now it's 6:30, the sun slowly starting to rise.
I dressed myself into a hoodie, and sweatpants, despite the heat that I was feeling. I didn't want my body to be exposed. I need to chill out, just for a second and I'll be good.
I was going to have everyone come over to work on the tree house again, but that idea flew out the window, so I just texted the group chat that I was sick, and they shouldn't come over.
To be honest, I feel sick.
I've pulled the curtains in front of the window, hiding the light that's trying to peek through, and leaving my room in complete darkness. I'm laid in my bed, bundled under all the blankets as if they might protect me.
I haven't closed my eyes though. At least it doesn't feel like I've closed my eyes, not since I woke up. There's a light knock on my door, and then a pause and I know it's my dad. He always waits until I tell him to come in.
"Yeah," My voice is croaky from being used for the first time today, and soft. My voice is so soft. "Can I come in?" My dad askes, and I feel bad to wreck his good mood, knowing he's going to start worrying the minute he walks in. "Yes." I say, even though I just want to say no.
He opens my door slowly, letting bright light flow in, causing me to squint my eyes in pain. The light causes my earlier headache to arise. "Isabelle." He whispers, and I can already hear the concern in his voice.
My body's telling me to put on an act, make it look like I'm ok, but I'm just too exhausted to care. I'll be ok tomorrow, I just need today and then I'll be fine.
I open my eyes, scared of the image my brain might create if I keep them closed for too long. My dad sits on the side of the bed next to me, and feel's my forehead. Maybe he's hoping that I'm sick, and it's not what we both know is going on.
"Honey, you should've come and gotten us," He pauses, looking at me warily, Then moves my hair out of my face and sighs. "Was it a nightmare?" I nod my head, not exactly trusting my voice at the moment.
"Let me call in work, I'll take off–"
"No." I say sharply. "Don't take off, I will be ok. Besides, I'd rather be alone to ride this out. I'll be ok tomorrow." His eyes fill with even more concern. "Luna's at Leo's house, and I really don't think you should be alone right now."
"Please dad, this is what I need." He pauses again, and sighs even louder. "Ok, fine. But you need to text me when you get up to eat. I know you forget when you're stressed out." I nod my head, and force a smile at him.
He leans down, and lays a kiss on my forehead, then finally relents and leaves my room. I hear my parents whispering outside, and then the front door opens and shuts. It's clear they both have left, so I finally sit up on my bed.
My body feels stiff, and my throat feels dry. I really should go and eat something, but I'm afraid I might be sick if I do. So instead, I stand up on my feet and slowly make my way downstairs.
The house is quiet, making me feel like I can finally breathe. I know deep down my dad was right. I really shouldn't be alone, especially if something triggers me again, but I don't like other people seeing me like this.
I need to keep everything together, because if I fall apart, everything will come crumbling down with me. I need to be ok, or else I'll never move past this.
I get myself some ice water and chug it in one go. I'm on my second glass when I hear a knock coming from the front door. My body freezes up, going into panic mood. It's ok Izz, it's not him. Right, he is locked up in prison right now.
I move towards the door slowly, and glance out the side window to see...Milo? What is he doing here? I unlock the door slowly, and crack it open.
He's looking off to the side, which quickly changes when he redirects his vision to me. His eyes take a look of pure concern. Crap. I smile softly at him and say, "Hi." He runs a hand through his hair. "Hi." He says back.
I look around quickly, making sure that the rest of our friends aren't here hiding somewhere. I just need to be alone. Just for one day. "What are you doing here?" I whisper.
He grips the door, and opens it wider, probably so he can walk inside. "Your dad called me. Didn't tell me why, but said that you were going through something and didn't want you to be alone." My eyes widen, and a slight blush consumes my face.
Of course he told Milo to come watch me. Like I need some baby sitter. "Well, I am ok. So thanks. You can go." I start shutting the door, but he pushes back, and opens it even wider.
"I'm staying here, Izz." I huff out an annoyed breath, and shake my head. "Look, whatever my dad told you, he was being dramatic about it. Really, I'm fine." I give him my best smile, hoping he'll believe it.
Just one day. One day.
"You don't look ok, Izz. What's wrong?" I shake my head, and decide that letting him in is easier than telling him what happened.
He walks in, and looks down at me. "How are you not burning up in that?" I shrug, and walk back to the kitchen where I finish another glass of water.
I turn to fill it again, when I feel Milo grip my wrist lightly and turn me around. I gasp, and shake him off, backing up into the fridge. Not now, please not now.
"No hands, got it." He nods, and takes a step back. My breathing even's out quickly, prompting me to reach a relieved hand up and rub my face. When I'm done, I look over at him. He looks freaked out. Oh god, I scared him.
"Sorry." I whisper. "Don't apologize. I just want to understand what's going on." He sounds broken, almost as broken as I feel. "You don't Milo. You really don't." Telling Luna everything that happened was easy. She's my sister, and I knew that no matter what I would survive her reaction.
But if I tell Milo, and he doesn't like me anymore. He finds me just as repulsive as I once found myself. I don't think I could handle it. If Milo left me, I think I would truly be broken. I can't handle him looking at me any other way then he already does.
"I don't know what you've been through, and it was obviously some messed up shit, but I want you to know that I'm here. If you need to talk about it. Sometimes it feels better to talk about it." He shrugs, and turns away, walking over to the pantry.
His words don't really register in my brain until a few seconds later. I shake my head and look at what he's doing. "What are you doing?" He starts grabbing random things that I didn't even know we owned.
"Making you food?" He looks back at me with a quirked brow. "I'm really not hungry right now." I sigh, a little bit of annoyance seeping through my words. "Well, your dad said you need to eat, and I agree. So..." He places the items on the counter, and gives me a pointed look.
I roll my eyes, and cross my arms over my chest. "Fine, what are you making?" He grins, and looks at the things he grabbed. "An omelet? I make good ones." I sigh out in defeat and nod my head. Egg's do sound good right now. "Sure, whatever. Go for it." He laughs softly to himself, while he grabs the main, and last ingredient from the fridge.
I take this as my cue to leave, and walk around the island, so sit down on the stool. I prop my elbows on the table, and rest my face in my hands. Maybe I didn't actually want to be alone. Having Milo here isn't half as bad as I thought.
"Is there anything you absolutely do not want on it?" I shake my head, and look at the stuff he's grabbed. It all seems relatively ok to me.
I watch him cook, zoning out from the quietness. I'm afraid if I look away from Milo, I might get another flashback, or have a panic attack.
He must feel me staring at his back, because he glances behind him, and sees me looking at him. I don't look away though, I just keep staring. Something in my face must show what I'm feeling, because he shakes his head and continues to work.
I must zone out harder than I thought, because Milo is placing the plate down in front of me in seconds, and I'm flinching at the loud noise. He sits beside me, and hands me a fork, while he starts eating his own food. Geez, my mind is so wacked right now.
Looking down at the food, a wave of fatigue and disgust came over me. You're better than him. Don't let him take anything else away from you. As much as I try to fight the images of his hands, the feel of his breath on my neck, it doesn't go away. I shiver, and stare at the food.
"Hey, come on. Don't do that." I look over at Milo in confusion. "What?" He stares back and forth at my eyes, not faltering at all. "Stay out of here." He taps lightly on his temple, showing me what he means. "I don't mean to," I take a deep breath, and let out an even shakier one. "This day just isn't good." I shrug, and finally pick up my fork.
Taking my first bite, I instantly taste the goodness of his food. Then nausea overwhelms me. I push it down, and take another bite. I look over at Milo, and set my fork down. Pushing the heels of my hands into my eyes until I see white, fuzzy static.
I feel Milo's hands grip my wrist gently. So different from his. So different that it doesn't send my body into a panic like it normally would. He pries my hands off of my face and pulls them down to the table. "Did you get any sleep last night?" I let the bile settle before speaking.
"I—" What am I supposed to say? I slept until I was woken up by my rapist in my dreams? I shiver again. He's locked up Isabelle. Calm down. "A little." I shrug. He sighs, and looks at my plate. "Are you done?" He inclined his head towards the food that's barely touched.
A wave of guilt washes over me for not eating it. I shake my head and pick up the fork. Eating a bite a little too big for my mouth, and practically swallowing whole. Milo chuckles softly, and takes the fork from me. "Don't force it down Isabelle. If you're full, that's fine. You can have lunch later." The thought of eating again sends my head spiraling, but I shove it away.
Maybe things will be different later.
"Thanks. It was good." I whisper, he wraps my plate up, and lays it in the fridge, then puts his own dishes in the sink.
He leans over the counter, and smiles at me. "Ya know, if you get changed so you're not burning up, we can go outside. Sun's good for you, it's supposed to make people happy." I snort, and shake my head. "Sun?" He nods quickly
"Vitamin D." He says, as if that explains everything. I huff out a laugh and shake my head. "It's worth a shot." He says again, I sigh, and stand up. "Ok, Give me a second." He nods with a small smile on his face, and I head upstairs.
Looking in my closet, all I see are exposing clothes. I try on shorts, but my conscious screams back at me. Definitely not wearing a dress. I change my thick sweatpants to thin leggings, but keep my oversized sweatshirt on.
I leave my hair down, having it wavy from laying on it while it dried. I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, seeing my dark eye bags, and rosy cheeks. Probably from literally burning in this outfit. I sigh, and shake my head, making my way down stairs.
Reaching the bottom, I see Milo on the couch looking at his phone intently. His eyebrows scrunched together. I clear my throat, letting him know that I'm here, and rolling on the balls on my feet.
He looks up, glances at my clothes, and shakes his head. "Izz, you're going to overheat in that." I shrug, and rub my eyes. He stands up from his spot on the couch and starts walking towards the backyard.
I freeze when I see our friends all hanging out. What the heck? When did they even get here? "Milo. I don't wanna hang out with people today...I can't." I pause and try to straighten my hair to at least look a little presentable.
I can't let my friends see me like this. God, what would they think? "Hey," he tilts my chin upward so I'm staring at his eyes. "No ones gonna judge you. You're having a bad day. We all do. What'd I say about this." This time he taps the side of my head.
"Stay out of it." I whisper. He smiles and nods in pride. "Exactly. Smile sunshine," He winks, "Can't be night forever." As hard as I try to stop it, his statement drags the smile right out of me. Tingles shooting through my body, giving me a jolt of happiness that I wish I could keep forever.
I don't get to say anything , because he's walking away before I can collect my thoughts.
'Smile sunshine, can't be night forever.'
___
Milo was right. I think the sun does make people happy. Well, it's not like my moods completely changed, but at least I'm not thinking about him anymore. It might also have to do with my friends being here.
Noah may be a little annoying with how much he doesn't stop talking, but at least he's keeping me on top. Out of my head, as Milo would say.
God, what's gotten into me? All I can think about is him. It doesn't help that all three men are working on the tree house. Yeah, they're all helping out, trying to get it done while I sit here and process everything.
It's strange, because I feel so alone all the time. Like I have no one, when in reality, I have a whole freaking family by my side, waiting for the moment to pick me up when I fall. Maybe I need to stop thinking about what I don't have, and start remembering what I do, what I should be thankful for.
"You know that's bad for your teeth." Henry says, drawing me back to their conversation. "Suck my—" Milo's hand comes down over Noah's mouth, covering the rest of whatever Noah was about to say. When he finally lets go, Noah grabs a chunk of ice and puts it in his mouth, then grabs Henry and chews it in his ear.
"Don't you just love them." Violet sighs, lifting her sunglasses from her face. We've been tanning. Ok, Lottie and Violet have been tanning, while I sit here, and burn to pieces under my clothes. I want to change, I really do, but I don't think I can handle staring at myself just yet.
I smile at them, hating that I know it doesn't quite reach my eyes. "You should really get into a bathing suit, and absorb the sun." Lottie says. I smile wider, and shake my head slightly. "Want me to get more lemonade?" They both nod, staring at the sky through their sunglasses.
I dart through the door, and sigh when I get to the kitchen island. Sweat dripped down my neck, catched at the creases of my elbows, my knees.
I take the seat at the counter, and lean my head against the cool marble top. Maybe I should just suck it up and put on a short sleeve shirt. "I told you." A strangled scream comes out of my throat, and I shoot up to see Milo standing at the door, in all his tattoo glory, with his hands on his hips.
"Huh?" I clear my throat, and stare at him in confusion. He stares at me for a few seconds, a concerned look taking over his features, then shakes his head.
"Come on. I'm not letting you wear that anymore." My face hardens, and I purse my lips. "Excuse you." My voice deepens only slightly, while I stare at him with irritation. He smiles, and laughs. "What?" I hissed quietly. "I'm not arguing with you. Nor am I letting you burn to death like that." My eyes narrowed unintentionally.
"I'm not–" He steps closer to me, then closer and– "No." I jump up from my seat, only for him to crouch downwards and throw me over his shoulder. "Put me down, Milo, or so help me–" I screech, then pause when I feel his bare, heated skin against me.
"Ew, oh my gosh you're sweaty!" I hear him laugh, and feel his chest rumble against my legs. I look upwards with a groan, only to see our whole friend group staring at me, laughing through the smooshed glass door.
My face flames, and I–sweaty skin forgotten–drop my head against his back with a mix of a groan and a whine. "Milo." He laughs again, only fueling my embarrassment, and anger.
He goes up the stairs two at a time, pausing when he reaches my bedroom door. Then, surprisingly, he lowers me slowly to the ground. Large hands supporting my hips until he knows I'm stable, then withdrawing slowly.
I cross my arms like a toddler that's getting in trouble, and stare upward at him as if he's not practically a head taller than me.
"Well, go on." I roll my eyes, and ignore the urge to wipe the sweaty strands of hair from my face. "I'm not your pet, or someone you can just command to do whatever you want." He sighs, and looks me over again. Then, with a softer voice, says. "Can you please go change? I don't like seeing you like this."
"Like what?"
"In pain. I don't like seeing you suffer." The way he's looking at me, with pure honesty, compels me to relent and finally go change. "I'm doing this for me." I exclaim, making sure he knows I most definitely did not cave because of him. A slow grin crawls up his cheek. "Sure, ok."
I can't help but look at the beautifully painted moon and sun intertwined by flowers over his heart. It's red, giving me the notion that it's new. As I change into an oversized t-shirt, and shorts, I think of the tattoo nonstop.
The sun, and the moon had beautiful faces, eyes closed with the moon kissing the sun's forehead. Such a simple tattoo, yet I have a nagging feeling that it means so much more than that.
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AN: YAY long chap🎉
Guess who decided to write instead of do all her homework last night. :)
Thoughts on Milo?
Isabelle?