The Upside Of Us

Part 11

*Jonahs POV*

It's too fucking bright.

I shift my stiff muscles and groan, why the fuck is it so bright. I look down and wince, my hand is gripping a fluffy pink blanket. what the fuck?

I feel restrained, I hate it. It feels like a koala is gripping on to me. I feel a body move right next to me.

I crane my neck. Oh.

Of course.

It's her.

She makes it so hard to be right next to her, I still don't know what to make of it, of this. She's got an arm circled around mine, her dainty bony fingers hanging on to my sleeve. Her leg clung on to me, as if seeking my body heat even in sleep.

She looks fragile, pale, and If I pushed too hard easily gone from my grasp. It's hard not to notice her.

I don't not like her. I like talking to her even when I feel like talking is the last thing I want to do. I wasn't planning on coming to her house, letting her take care of me when she didn't have to.

It seems we both can't stray far. I try, that's what I was doing last night. Riveting in the dark night air, feeling tied up with people, with people taking notice of me. It's never been like that.

Being unnoticed is safe. Recluse. I liked being alone.
Not necessarily for the dislike of people, more I prefer my own company. My own space.

I rub the sleep from my eyes, my body still feeling the after affects of a dumb cold. I carefully tuck Mila in the covers, knowing shes probably cold. I lean on my forearm, trying not to wake Mila as I rest against her headboard.

Trying to go for a silent escape. Not that I don't want to see her. I just know she'll want to keep taking care of me because it's just who she is.

It's the first time I actually take notice of her room, all cream colored walls, books, vinyls, and candles strewn all over her room. Her walls covered in album posters and book pages.

I recall me mentioning fifty shades of grey and how pink her cheeks had gotten, I smile at the image. For someone who spends half the time reading, it's more smut than anything. I found it amusing.

I feel her fingers grasp my thumb, she's moving again before her eyes flutter open. Half opened and tired.

She looks up at me. All big hazel eyes staring at me.

"Hi," her voice croaky from sleep, and kinda husky.

Say something. My mouth feels dry.

I lick my lips, "Hi," I say back.

I move my hand on reflex, she looks down to see her hand gripping my thumb before she quickly lets go. She untangles from me, I'm left desolate and strangely at odds at where I'm at.

An itch to leave suddenly comes to me. I don't know what to do from here.

She pushes her messy hair back, tucking it behind her ear.

"How are you feeling?" huh?

"About what?"

Her pink lips tug upward in amusement, "Are you feeling okay after yesterday?" Right idiot you were sick.

"Better." It's the only thing I can think to say. She looks me over, trying to see if I was truly okay. Her brows furrowing in worry.

She abruptly gets up and off the bed, her camisole riding up and I see a flash of purple. A big nasty bruise on her hip, her flesh barely there.