Broken

• Chapter 50 •

- CLEMENTINE -

I don't fucking believe it.

This boy brought me oatmeal and hot tea.

Yes.

Oatmeal.

I didn't even know people actually ate this shit until right this second. I thought it was a horror story or an urban legend to scare normal human beings. I grimace at the puke-looking substance in front of me and look at him like he's stupid.

He smirks and shrugs, "I'm supposed to feed you soft foods."

I roll my eyes at him and shove it away. He knits his eyebrows together and puts it back in front of me, "Eat."

I raise my eyebrows at his command, he lets out a frustrated sigh.

"How about yogurt? Do you eat yogurt?"

I frown, is he trying to tell me I need to go on a diet? What the hell is wrong with this boy, wanting to feed me disgustingly healthy shit? I sigh and nod my head anyway, knowing that he won't be driving me home until I eat something. Yogurt is tolerable.

He stands to leave and I go to call out after him, only to let out another squeal. He winces and turns back with a confused expression.

Add fruits on top.

___________________

I silently thank Ashton for dropping me, but instead of just giving me a slight nod and driving away, he puts his car on Parking and steps out. I frown in confusion.

What're you doing? I type on my phone.

He smirks, "I'm going to watch you struggle walking into your house."

My heart sinks, and I ignore his comment.

Go away. You don't have to fucking babysit me. I'm fine.

Ashton rolls his eyes at me, "Clementine. You can barely walk—"

I hold my hand up to shut him up, does he think I'm a helpless baby or some shit? My fingers type furiously into my phone, and I'm so angry I can't yell at him right now.

I'M FINE. LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE.

He frowns at my distressed and angry expression, sighing deeply before putting his hands up in mock-surrender. "Fine. I'll leave," he steps back into his car but doesn't make a move to actually leave.

I frown and wave him off. He rolls his eyes at me and starts the car, finally driving away. I exhale in relief of finally being alone. The walk to the door is very dream-like. I'm having an out-of-body experience. I regain control of my body once I enter my room, before collapsing onto the floor.

It takes less than a second to crumble.

I sob hysterically into the palm of my hands, my shoulders shake violently and raspy screeches escape my throat as a replacement for my screams. I don't care that it's painful, that I'm probably injuring my vocal cords further. I don't care about anything at the moment.

I don't realize that arms are wrapped around me until my hearing slowly re-focuses and I hear repeated, "Clementine, shh... It's okay. I'm here, I've got you. Shh..."

I weep into Ashton's shirt, my chest heaves and my breaths come in torrents. I suck in lungful after lungful of air, as though I've been deprived of it for days. And it feels that way. The room sways. I don't think I'm able to move, shove him away, or stand. His embrace is bone-crushing, but I ignore the pain.

Brick by brick, my walls come tumbling down. The tears in my eyes turn everything into a whirlwind of greys and yellows. The sobs punch through, ripping through my muscles, bones, and guts.

I sob into his chest unceasingly, hands clutching at his jacket. He holds me in silence, rocking me slowly as my tears soak his shirt. A tiny lapse lets me pull away, blinking lashes heavy with tears before I collapse again, my muffled howls of misery worsening.

Ashton is quick to wipe the tears from my face. He's down on his knees in front of me, his face is just centimeters away from mine.

"Hey. Look at me, I'm here. You're okay. Look at me, Clementine."

My water-blurred vision slowly adjusts from the disturbing mental images to him. To his unfathomably deep and hypnotizing eyes. And I see it, I see the empathy.

Empathy, not pity.

He squeezes my hands and brings them to his lips, giving them just a whisper of a kiss.

"You're gonna be okay, I promise."