Hot For Nerd ✓

40 | life

I see the light go out in his eyes. He stands up, pacing around the room, talking in rapid Spanish that I don't understand. The look in his eyes is wild and unfamiliar. I've never seen him like this before.

His phone dies mid call, and he clenches his jaw and chucks his phone across the room. It smashes against the wall, the screen shattering into a million pieces. I jump up and walk towards him.

Arrow pulls at his hair, eyes shut. "Fuck," he whispers. "Fuck!"

I place my hands on his arms, gently pulling them away from his hair. Then, I touch his cheek and force him to look at me. "Tell me what happened."

His voice is hoarse, eyes dark and dangerous. "It's Prim again. She's hospitalized. She had a seizure and she's in a coma now."

My heart drops in my chest. No, no, no, no. Not Prim. It couldn't be Prim. I feel tears mingling in my eyes but I will them to go away. I would not cry. I had to be strong. For Arrow.

"Everything will be alright," I murmur, kissing his forehead. "Here's what we're going to do. I need you to sit down for a moment. Drink some water. I'm going to book the earliest flight back home and pack up our stuff. Just breathe."

He's still for a couple of moments, but then he nods. I kiss his nose before rushing to my phone. The flights are more expensive because it's last minute booking, but I have Mommy and Daddy's money to spend. I book them before tugging on sweatpants and a shirt.

I hand Arrow some clothes to change into before throwing all of our stuff into our bags. Rapidly, I make the bed and pull on my sneakers.

"Our flight is at 5 a.m. Let's check out of the hotel and get some food before heading to the airport." I say, pulling him gently to the door.

"I don't want fucking food. I want to go home."

I pin him with a look. "You need to eat. And sleep. You can't go back home like this. You'll get sick."

He shakes his head. "No."

My throat constricts. "Arrow. Please. You need to eat something, sweetheart."

Arrow pauses, and I see his throat shift. He closes his eyes for a second, as if he's pushing away tears, and then nods silently. "Let's go."

We end up getting food at the airport instead. He eats half a cucumber sandwich and dumps the rest, gulping down water. Check in goes smoothly, and he's restless in his seat at the gate.

Arrow bounces his knee up and down, rubbing his temple and cursing under his breath. My concern for him expands. He's usually calm and collected, and his demeanor is scaring me.

I tug him towards me. He buries his face where my neck meets my shoulder. I feel his eyelashes brush my exposed skin. I hate that I don't know what to say. I don't want to say she'll be okay, because we don't know that for sure.

Instead, I gently stroke his hair. He sighs into my neck, and eventually he falls asleep against me. I wrap my arms around him, holding his vulnerability in my hands.

We board the plane, except this time I'm the one holding him. His skin is clammy and void of the usual, beautiful bronze color, and his eyes are empty tunnels.

When we land back in Rhode Island, he's jittery, itching to get out of his seat. I just start to stand when another passenger yanks their carry on and almost drops it on my hair.

"Be fucking careful," Arrow snarls, towering over the guy. I tug on the sleeve of his sweatshirt and he turns to look at me, so many emotions swirling in his eyes that I can't read.