Downfall | Austin Butler

Chapter 18

there's things i wanna say to you
but i'll just let you live
like if you hold me without hurting me
you'll be the first who ever did
there's things i wanna talk about,
but better not to give
but if you hold me without hurting me
you'll be the first who ever did
— cinnamon girl, lana del rey

——

Remember what I said about not wanting to fall again?

If you're wondering – no I did not fall a second time, but I was pretty sure I was this close to fucking doing so with the way Austin was assessing me.

He made me feel like a total toddler who was taking steps for the first time, but instead of it being a joyous occasion, it seemed to be more nerve wrecking. Especially with him looking like he was gonna shit himself every time I tried to use the crutches the doctor literally gave me.

To sum it up for you in less than so many words, yes – my little ankle injury sure wasn't as little as I was making it out to be, nor what I expected it to be.

The good news was that I didn't break it. The bad news was that it wasn't just a sprain. More like a fracture. They figured that out after some x-rays and other shit that took far too long. So long that I was so sure it was midnight by the time we got out of there with my newest fashion statement – a bulky ass boot – attached to my leg until further notice. But, it wasn't. It was roughly around 9:30 pm which wasn't as bad as I thought but definitely not ideal.

Now, I was staring up at the never ending stairway in my apartment complex mentally cursing myself when I realized I was gonna have to climb this whole bad boy like King Kong.

"Hey," Austin rasped, suddenly spawning out of literally nowhere. "You good?"

Well technically not nowhere. He was everywhere really.

He'd been hot on my heels from the moment I fell, but for just a second – finally finding myself back in the vicinity of the place I called home– the idea of him being there kind of escaped me. To be completely honest, I didn't expect him to still be here. I tried my best not to make it known to him when he braced a gentle hand on my back – his touch doing that thing again. Icing my whole body over with an unnecessary array of shivers while simultaneously leaving a layer of heat in its wake.

It kind of felt like a fever.

Was I getting sick?

"Rianne," he repeated, his head craning over so he could take in my line of vision, eyes searching mine for some sort of answer.

"Um." I blinked. "Yeah," I gulped, steadying my position on the crutches and stepping forward to escape his touch so I could speak coherently. I hated how easily he affected me. How he rendered me speechless with the simplest actions. "Yeah," I repeated again, nudging my head at the stairway in front of us, "just dreading the fact that I am gonna have to figure out how to get up and down these stairs everyday."

"Wait." His face scrunched up momentarily before his eyes lit up, serving the usual whiplash that I'd been coming more and more accustomed to the longer I spent time with him. "Isn't there an elevator? I swore I saw one that night when I came up for coffee."

No fucking clue how the hell he remembered that when we literally passed through so quickly.

"No – well," I sighed, closing my fists around the crutches as tightly as I could, "technically there is, but it's out of order. Been for years."