My Guarded Heart

Chapter 4: Just stay with me

Jay's POV

I was watching TV when the someone knocked at the door. It was 10:00pm, who would knock at this time of night? I turned down the volume of the TV and got up from the couch. I walked to the door and looked through the peep hole before I opened it. What? I thought, What was she doing here?

I opened the door and stared at Ray. Her eyes were bloodshot and her hair was a mess. She was carrying a duffel bag and her school bag. I looked at her, worried about her.

"What are you doing here Ray?" I asked in a worried tone. "Are you okay? Why have you been crying?"

She ignored all my questions and asked, "Are your parents home?"

I looked at her weirdly. Why would she was to know that?

"No, they're on vacation in the Bahama's," I said.

"Do you mind if I can stay here for the next couple of days? It's only temporary, I promise." Her eyes pleaded with mine.

I looked at her, awe-stricken. She wanted to stay with me?

"Yeah, uh sure," I said to her.

She looked at me and her eyes twinkled with emotion for a moment. Then she looked at her feet and back up into my eyes. The twinkle was gone.

"Thanks," she said. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah definitely," I said, "and here, let me take those." I took her duffel bag and swung it over my shoulder. She walked inside and took off her boots while I closed the door.

She was looking around, mesmerized by my home. I started staring at her myself. She did look like a mess, but I still thought that she was beautiful. She was so focused and strong. She didn't let anything get to her, and I admired her for that. I was the type of guy who loved too often and got hurt too easily. But the fact that she was so closed-off disturbed me a little. I wondered how she could act like that—emotionless—when the world we live in was so emotional. I wanted to ask her why, but I didn't want to ask in case it was because of something personal.

"Um, so where can I stay?" she asked me. Her voice snapped me out of my thoughts immediately.

"We just renovates the guess room upstairs so you stay there," I told her.

I started walking up the stairs and beckoned her to follow me. She was walking up the stairs while looking at every single one of our family photos. When I reached the top of the staircase, I looked behind me and saw her staring at one of my baby photos. I smiled as she admired the picture of chubbiest baby face on this planet.

"That was me," I said to her smiling.

"Oh," she said, but she didn't smile.

I swore to myself that I would make her smile one day—not a grin, not a small up-turn of her lips at the corners—but a real smile. She stopped looking at my baby picture and started to walk up the stairs again. I walked to the guest bedroom and opened the door. She walked inside and I put her stuff on the bed. She sat on the rocking chair at the end of the bed and turned her head around, taking in her surroundings.

"This is a big guess room," she said and stood up to walk around the room.

"Yeah," I replied. "This used to be 2 smaller bedrooms but my mom wanted to make it one big bedroom, so we renovated."

"Oh," was all she said.

I watched her as she walked around the room, mesmerized by everything. I saw how her hands touched and held things like they were all fragile pieces of glass. She was gentle with them; and I was surprised that she was. She was a blunt girl with a gentle touch. Suddenly she looked up from the little statuette of a dog that she was examining, and looked straight at me.

"You're staring at me," she said. She didn't sound angry or annoyed; she sounded almost confused.

I diverted my gaze and started looking at my shoes.

"Sorry," I said. I tilted my head slightly to look at her. "I was just wondering why you were crying..."

"I wasn't crying," she said as she avoided my gaze. She started to pick at her nails instead.

"Your eyes are red," I said. "I know when a person is crying or has cried, Ray. So don't lie to me and say you weren't crying." I looked straight at her. She looked like she was deciding whether or not to tell me why she was crying. She walked over to the bed and laid down.

"Okay fine...maybe I was crying, but it's non of you business," she said, her voice cracking on that last part. She was lying on her back and was looking at the ceiling. Then, she started to cry.

At first, she was crying silent tears. But gradually she was starting to sob and shake. I quickly walked over to her and laid down beside her. I held her delicate body in my arms as she sobbed into my chest. I lightly stroked her soft pale blonde hair. It was a beautiful colour, different from all the rest of the blondes out there; it was a special and unique colour that was only made for her. I rubbed her back in soothing circular motions and whispered "It's okay. You're okay." into her ear as I held her in my arms.

I held her close for quite sometime. She slowly calmed down and stopped shaking. I pulled slightly away from her and realized she had cried herself to sleep. I slowly placed her down on the bed and rested her head on the pillow. I moved the hair that was in front of her face and tucked it behind her ear. I touched her cheek slightly as I pulled away from her face and I saw her flinch. I touched her cheek slightly again and she flinched and whimpered. Was she hurt? I wondered. I would ask her in the morning, I decided not wanting to wake her up. I grabbed a think woolen blanket from the trunk at the bottom of the bed and placed it over her. I pulled the blanket all the way up to her chin.

I was about to walk out of the room when she whispered something. I turned around and saw that she was awake. I walked back to the bed and sat beside her. I looked at her face and noticed her cheeks has splotches a bluish-purple colour. They were bruises.

As I looked into her eyes as I stroked her bruised check. She flinched even though I new she was trying not to. She closed her eyes and a tear escaped, running down her cheek until it ran into my hand.

"Who hurt you?" I asked her. I kept my eyes locked on hers and willed her to not look away.

She avoided my question and asked, "Stay with me?"

"Please don't avoid my question," I begged. "I want to know who hurt you; a girl never deserves to be hit."

"No one hurt me..." she said and looked away.

"I don't believe you," I said angry that she was lying to me about who hurt her. She shouldn't have be scared about talking to someone about it. "You can tell me," I reassured her, "I'm here for you."

I leaned into her then. She looked straight into my eyes and I into hers. Her eyes were a fierce colour. The grey in her eyes seemed to have darkened deeply and blocked out the bright blue that was usually in her eyes, just like the way the  black night sky chased away the blue of day. I looked at her lips. They were so close I felt the warmth that radiated off of her body. Our lips were on the verge of colliding when she looked away.

I was taken aback by her sudden movement. I moved my head away and looked at her. Her eyes softened when she saw the hurt look on my face.

"I'm sorry," she said, "but I can't do this right now."

"I understand," I said as I tried to keep the disappointment  out of my voice.

"Just stay with me, please?" she asked and raised her hand to my cheek.

"Okay," I said.

I laid down beside her and faced her. She turned around and I was disappointed for a moment. I wondered why she would turn away of from me—considering she asked me to stay—but she shuffled backwards and into my arms. She grabbed my hand and pulled it over her. I tightened my arm around her and brought her closer. She sighed a grateful and happy sigh and snuggled up against my chest.

And we slept.