his and hers | 18+

16 | vacant headspace

•°•* ⁀➷
pierce

she's been asleep in my arms for two whole hours. two hours of me staring at her face, unraveling every single perfect detail. eyes? perfect. nose? perfect. hair, skin, lips? perfect, perfect, and fucking perfect. how could she ever think otherwise?

you can't see it from far away, but when i squint my eyes i can see the faintest amount of freckles on the bridge of her nose. fucking perfect.

my knuckles brush over her skin, the feel of her smooth skin marring. i look up at her wound, which is beginning to swell and bruise pretty fucking badly. it's on the right side of her face, just above the corner of her eyebrow.

somehow, it looks worse than when it did at the school. i doubt it was the phone that gave her the concussion—though that plays a big part. she most likely smashed her head against the locker when fucking daria shoved her.

i take a quick, deep breath, reigning in my emotions. i don't want to throw a tantrum and wake her up, but this shit needs to be dealt with before it gets infected. alex's mom—piper, has already ordered that MRI scan. she came here earlier to wake her up, but i said it's best to let her sleep.

two days. she hasn't eaten in two days.

i saw the shame she felt when she realised that not eating for forty eight hours is in-fact not normal, and extremely unhealthy. fuck, she probably thought we were judging her. the last thing we were doing was judging.

i pull a loose strand of hair behind her ear gently, listening to the soft snores that pass through her parted lips. her eyelashes lay flat again her cheek, stuck together due to the mascara and tears. some of the mascara has ran down her face, marking her.

my phone rings besides me for the forth time in an hour. it's my mom, she's trying to reach me. i'm sure the school called her, and told her how i went batshit crazy on some fucking rando. i'll talk to her later, she can wait. clementine can't.

her mental health is the most important thing to me right now. the eating, the insecurities, she can't handle them. she's all too fragile, and delicate. i need her to push through those inner-demons telling her otherwise, and make it to the other side of her internal-war. with me.

and i'm going to be right here, helping.

declining the call, i turn my phone off for now. if she's really that worried, she'll call lucas, who will tell her i'm here.

considering piper knows us personally, she hasn't even attempted to call clem's mom, even thought it's a big risk to her job. i'm not the only one seeing that she's being neglected. sure, her mom will be called sooner or later, but it's not going to be right fucking now.

clementine needs some hours to herself. and me personally, i can't fucking wait to meet the woman who birthed this angel and give her a piece of my mind. she's told me a little about her father, and from what i've gathered he isn't even in america. so that's a dead end.

she talks about him like he put the stars in the sky, she loves her father, i can tell. though whenever she talks about her mother, i can shift the change in her demeanour. she always cuts conversations about her mother short.

i look back up to her wound, not being able to take it anymore. "clem?" i whisper, not wanting to startle her. she doesn't move. she's so still, if i didn't have my hand pressed up against her heart, i wouldn't know if she was breathing.

"clem, wake up." i speak louder, though still hushed. she groans, rolling onto her back and throwing an arm over her forehead, right over the injury. that's going to hurt.