Don't Say Anything (boyxboy)

Chapter 16

Ok I'm sorry for this being so late. I promise never again. I'm gonna cry lol please still be reading this. I've just been so unfocused lately and couldn't write but I'm back. Promise.

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When I had first stepped out of the hospital's sliding doors, I hadn't remembered the sun being so painful to my eyes. Or my legs feeling like nervous jelly. Or my stomach feeling like it was ready to spit out all my insides. Or my head getting hit with what felt like a thousand bats. But, then again, I hadn't expected to end up in the hospital. I hadn't really expected to end up anywhere.

But the minute I turned to look at Vic I noticed he was already staring at me. I smiled at him and walked closer to him. I wrapped my arms around Vic in a tight hug and relished in the secure feeling his body offered me. His arms hugged me back just as tight as I did. "I'm still sorry." I whispered to him. His arms tightened but he refused to pull away. "Come on, let's go home."

It had felt good to be home. I had been home for three days already yet I still felt a bit uncomfortable. But everything also felt off-putting. My body was stealing healing and the bruises had yet to fade. I was worried Oli would show up and that when he did, he would only beat me back into the hospital. Having thoughts like that weren't exactly helping me relax. While I was laying down on my bed, Vic opened the window and pulled out his signature pack of cigarettes. "Did I miss anything?" I asked him, turning to lay on my back. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"Like, did I miss anything at school while I was in the hospital?" I said to him. He paused to take a breath from the cigarette before slowly blowing out the smoke passed his lips. He shook his head. "I'm not sure. I haven't been to school either." He told me. I leaned up on my elbows to look at him. "What have you been doing then?"

For a moment, he stiffened. And then his body relaxed as he inhaled more of the cigarette. The gray smoke fell and curled off his lips into the air. "I broke things off with Danielle." He said. I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. I tried to hide it, though. "I'm sorry. I'm guessing things didn't work out?" He looked over at me as I bit my lip.

"Don't lie and say you're sorry. I could see you smiling, you little shit." He said, shaking his head and grinning. My face warned but I didn't deny his accusations. "But yeah, things didn't work out." He finished. He was done with the cigarette as he took his last breath from it before putting it out against my window sill.

"You know, mom thinks it's me who smokes because she's noticed the ash marks right there." I told him. He chuckled and held his hands up in defense. "Sorry, sorry. I'll try to stop." He said. "No you won't."

"You're right." He laughed. I threw a pillow at him but he only caught it in his hands and laughed louder. Then he walked over to me and sat with me on my bed. Out of habit, his fingers landed on the bruised skin of my arm. He seemed almost mesmerized as his fingers traced over the bruised flesh. I only watched.

"Who made these?" He asked me. I froze. His gaze was shifted to the bruising along my wrist which was darker than the others. "For god's sake, Kells. It's on both of your wrists." He told me, gently picking up my other ruined wrist to inspect the damage. "It was from the crash, Vic. Don't worry." I told him as a feeble attempt to cover up who had actually done it: Oli.

"Please, just stop lying to me. Kells, I can tell the difference between bruising from a crash and bruising from another person. Trust me, I can." I winced at his words. I believed him, too. Because Vic had been in more than one "accidental" car crash like my own. As for the bruising, we could thank his father for that. "These are fingerprints, Kellin. Who did it?" He said to me.

His voice was unnaturally quiet and I felt he had always had an idea as to where all my bruises had come from to begin with but he was never one to assume so quickly. And he was never one to confront people. More specifically, confront me. "I-I..."