[39]: guilty lullaby

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"Standing guard?" a low voice spoke, his heavy boots dragging along the wooden floor I was sat upon.

My lower back, especially my tailbone, ached as I sat in an awkward position. My knees pointing upwards, my arms wrapped around my thighs, pressing them tightly against my chest. My long hair created a curtain, disfiguring my view of the person approaching me, but I knew who it was. Someone I hadn't talked to in a while.

"No, just hiding," I whispered into my sleeves.

He sighed as he lowered himself to the ground on the left side of me. His elbow brushed mine, but I didn't flinch away like I thought I would with him.

After he had talked to me, a sense of forgiveness washed over me after he left. I had realised he was right.

"Well, I don't blame you," he said amusedly, turning his face towards me, his eyes lingering on my wounds. Everyone who talked to me looked at me that way. "This social gathering they got going on is gonna be awkward as hell."

I laughed slightly at his wording.

It was silent for a few more moments before Shane spoke up again. "How you doing nowadays, Marl?"

His voice was quiet like we were exchanging secrets. That seemed to be all that we were doing anymore.

There was no more flirty deputy who patted my head when he was amused at how small I was. It was now very different; Shane, with his bald head and wanting to lead me somewhere he thought was necessary. Leading me to that place his mind was buried, but what he didn't know was that my grave was already built there.

"I still can't talk to people properly," I said honestly, keeping voice as low as his. I shuffled closer to him, my cheek pressing up against his shoulder.

He played with his cap in his hands, twisting it, and pulling it.

"You'll get there," he assured, now putting the cap on the floor between his legs. "Just gotta try and forget. Not let it get to you. Flip the switch."

"I don't think I have a switch," my voice was still hoarse from screaming that day. "And I can't forget when people keep looking at me like I just... said something weird in front of them." My words were hurried and desperate.

Shane's hand made my heartbeat rise and fall quickly, it coming into contact with my knuckles and picking up my hand. He turned it over, looking at the smooth and strange looking palm.

"I never said sorry fo- I don't know, throwing you was it?"

"It was more like unknowingly knocking," I smiled. "Hurt like a bitch, but palms don't scar easily."

He stopped surveying the lines on my skin, intertwining our hands together and resting them atop his knee. This caused me to move closer to him, my whole body curling into his. I had no choice but to rest the side of my head against his shoulder.

My whole entire being was tense.

Sure, Shane was cool and I didn't mind him holding my hand. But I was kind of a Geiger counter for danger, and I was contemplating on whether my magnetism to him was because of that.

He was the person I didn't have to lie to, so I found a certain weird comfort in being around him.

"Maybe I should shave my head," I said suddenly, not thinking before I came out with that. "You seem to be coping since you did."

Shane smirked, now looking away then back to me.

His eyes were the same colour as Jimmy's.

"No, don't do that," he uttered. "You'd regret it."

𝐇𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐑𝐃 │ 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐋 𝐃𝐈𝐗𝐎𝐍 ¹ [✔]Where stories live. Discover now