Waiting For Us [COMPLETED]

chapter 10 - tears and smiles

Grayson:

Fuck.

I don't think I've been angrier in my entire life. Ever.

I'm angry at a lot of things, right now. Angry at the shit Carter pulled. Angry at the shit Cassie said to her. And most of all, angry at how those two shitheads affected Talia emotionally and mentally.

It's also possible that I'm angry at myself. I wish I would have found Talia a few minutes earlier, and all of this trauma and pain would be avoided.

My hands firmly grip the steering wheel and I notice my knuckles turn white. I haven't put my car into drive yet, because she is still crying in the passenger seat. Fuck, I feel like I can't breathe.

When I imagined what it would be like to be with Talia, this is not what I had in mind. I imagined she would be happy, not crying in my car. She should be smiling.

Her occasional sniffles echo through the car. With each one, I feel my heart dropping deeper and deeper into my stomach.

I can't even begin to imagine the thoughts that are occurring and reoccurring in Talia's head at this moment. It pains me to think that the memories of what that shithead did now permanently consume her. I'll have my revenge on him eventually.

On top of all of this, I have no idea what to do. Do I rub her back and tell her everything is going to be alright? Do I hand her some tissues? Or do I just drive her home and try to ignore her crying? None of these options feels perfect, and for her, I want them to be.

As I struggle to make up my mind, I look over at Talia for the millionth time tonight. Tears streak down her cheeks and her chest rises and falls quickly, indicating that she is also finding it difficult to breathe. Her hands fidget together in her lap, something I've noticed she does often. When I examine Talia's fingers closer, I find little pieces of skin removed from around her nails that she has torn off nervously. Watching her do this unknowingly makes me anxious, so I reach across the seat divider and pull one of her hands away into mine. Better.

Talia's eyes lift up and bore into my own. Her once joy-filled green eyes now contain an endless amount of sadness. I wish I could save her the pain and take the sadness to bear myself.

My thumb involuntarily rubs soft circles against Talia's hand as I look at her. "You're going to hurt your fingers if you keep doing that."

She's nods her head to prove she understood me, but our hands remain entwined. Unlike other girls' hands that I've held, Talia's are not completely soft. I can feel small patches of calluses on some parts of her fingers. They are slightly rough in some areas, similar to how mine have changed texture from playing basketball. Is it weird that I want to know how her skin became like that?