Rhys- age 15
I glance around the school courtyard, trying to find my girl but she's nowhere in sight.
I frown, ignoring my hockey group as they try to convince me to come play with them.
"Later. I need to find Maeve."
They nod in understanding, knowing she'll always come before them and hockey.
Making my way to the front of the school, I finally see Nova sitting against a pillar, her face in her hands, her shoulders slumped.
I haven't seen her all day, her mom wanting to drive her to school since it was her day off.
Usually we walk together but today I had to walk all by myself.
I wanted to cry.
"Maeve-what the fuck?"
I jolt back when I see her eye is all black and bruised, so swollen it's actually squeezed shut.
She waves her hand out in front of her like it's nothing.
"Who the fuck touched you?"
She snorts like we're joking.
I'm sure as shit not.
She shrugs. "It's nothing. I ran into a door as it was opening."
My eyes narrow and my nostrils flare because I've been playing hockey since I could walk and I've been thrown against the boards, punched in the face. Even cut my face open when I got a skate to my chin but never once have I ever gotten a black eye like that.
"You're lying." I snap.
She sighs, exhaustion dripping off of her.
"Not today, Rhys."
Fuck that.
"No. You're going to tell me why every time I see you, you've "accidentally" run into a door. Or tripped over some stairs. Or burned yourself cooking in the shape of a cigarette and somehow always have dozens of bruises on you."
She drags her eyes up to mine slowly and painfully, her olive eyes looking dim.
I want to shake all the answers out of her. I want her to fight those stupid demons in her head telling her that this is okay.
It's not.
She blows out a shaky breath, taking my hand that's fisted by my side and pulling me onto the ground beside her.
"Could-just hold me. Please?" Her voice breaks like she's about to cry and I freeze.
I pull her into me, my arms immediately finding my way around her waist as she buries her head into my neck, her favourite spot since we were five.
I tighten my hold on her, kissing the top of her head.
"I love you, Maeve."
I can practically feel her smile against me.
"I love you too, Rhys."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Rhys - present
"Please, let me walk you home. I won't even talk. I can walk ten feet behind you if you want. You wont even know I'm here."
God, I sound so desperate.
Maeve just tilts in front of me, one foot tripping in front of the other. Her silky hair sways on her back with each flop of her head.
"Rhys?"
I jog up to her. "Yeah, baby?"
"I used to love you so much."
She drags every word out, so drunk she barely can even form a sentence.
I swallow down every single emotion I'm feeling. "And now?"
"Can you call Liam? I hate my dad. You know it's almost Christmas?"
It's not.
"Who's Liam?"
And for the first time since the bar over a month ago, I get to see something I thought I'd never see again.
She smiled.
Her face absolutely lights up at the name, her hand gripping my shoulder as the movement seems to make her dizzy.
"Is Liam your...boyfriend?"
My heart beats faster of the thought of someone else touching her.
She snorts. "You're dumber than I remember."
I grin. "So you do remember me?"
She shoves me but it has no force.
"You stupid fucking whank. Who knew your dick was so small?"
Fuck me, she's so drunk.
I clear my throat, glancing around.
"Do you know where you're going?"
She rolls her eyes, throwing her hands in the air, frustrated.
"Of course I know where I live. It's this building."
She points to the brick building in front of us before hauling her ass up the steps.
"I wish you were still dead sometimes." She spits in my face as we climb the stairs up to her floor.
Still dead? When was I ever dead?
I stand behind her in case she falls because I know if I tried touching her, she would bite my head off.
I pout. "But if I were dead, I wouldn't be able to stare at your ass."
She mumbles something like, "Stupid fucking whank," before she pushes her door open.
The first thing I notice is that toys litter the whole place.
Not sex toys, unfortunately.
Kids toys.
There's a plastic red table in the kitchen, crayons scattered everywhere underneath.
Plastic dump trucks and fabric books are spread all over the living room floor in front of the TV.
Maeve stumbles down the hall to what I assume is her bedroom. A door slams, grumbling and then-
"Rhys!" Maeve shouts. "My jeans won't come off."
When I enter her bedroom, she's lying on her bed with her jeans half hanging off her legs, the palms of her hands pressing into her eyes.
"Okay, okay. Don't panic. I got you."
I try not to look at her tan, smooth legs as I help her shimmy off her jeans but god, I just want to run my hands down them.
"Go get my pj bottoms." She demands.
"Yes ma'am."
I help her slip those on, walking back into the kitchen to grab some water and aspirin.
"Swallow." I place them in her hand, her eyes heavy as she does what I say.
"Let's get you under the covers." She doesn't move.
"Maeve. Move your pretty little ass under the blankets."
No response so I pick her up gently in case she's nauseous or shit and fluff her pillow once she's curled up under the heavy comforter.
I drag a piece of hair that's fallen in front of her eyes, placing it behind her ear before I lean down and kiss her temple.
Soft snores filter from her as I'm about to leave but there's a rustle behind me.
"Rhys?" Her voice croaks. "Stay. Can you stay?"
She's sitting up now, eyes fully wide so I can see her dark eyes.
She groggily lifts her arm out towards me, shaking her hand when I don't take it.
I wish I could say so many things to her right now. In this moment.
But I don't deserve her forgiveness right now and I sure as hell don't have any right trying to earn it back but I'm selfish.
So, damn selfish.
So I take her hand and lay down beside her, my body stiff as a board as she shifts all her weight onto me, my hands clenched at my sides, not sure what to with them until I rest them on the small of her back.
"Liam says he feels safe when he lays like this on me. I think he's right."
Her whisper warms my neck, her fingers coming to twirl my hair.
I don't think she even knows she's doing it.
Muscle memory maybe?
I don't give a shit, though.
She's here. Actually here. In my arms. In the fucking air I breathe.
And it's fucking amazing to finally be able to breathe in my nova again.