Origami Heart (Book 3 - DP series - COMPLETE)

4. Mistakes

Photo Above: Lindsey

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With a sigh, he drops his arm and his face slackens. I'm immediately introduced to a somber version of Mike. He's obviously still drunk because he stumbles once on the way to his bed, but the anger has evaporated. Since he hasn't kicked me from his room or asked me to leave, I decide to linger for a moment. I wouldn't want to just walk out on him, not when he's like this.

Instead, I watch as he quite literally falls onto his bed face-first. He groans into the comforter before rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side to look at me.

"Why are you still here?"

A wrecking ball to the gut would have been less painful. I gape at him for a moment, fumbling for a response.

"I'll leave," I say, turning toward the door.

"No."

It's a slurred, lazy 'no', but it's a 'no' nonetheless. Pausing, I swivel around to face him. He's got one arm lifted slightly, though his elbow is still resting on his bed. He wiggles a finger, his way of beckoning me closer. Obeying his silent request, I glance around to make sure we're alone and then take a seat on his bed, eyes still trained on him.

"Why are you still here? In Galesburg?"

"Oh." I laugh softly, tucking my hands under my thighs. "Just trying to get my life together, I suppose."

He chuckles beside me. "What troubles could Lindsey Brewster have that need fixing?"

When I don't respond, he rolls onto his side and looks up at me. I glance down, catching his eye and offering a modest grin. He has no idea. That's one of his problems. He's so consumed with his own world right now that he can't see the changes taking place around him. I'm nothing like the girl I used to be and he'd see that if he looked a little closer.

"So, I can still hear the party going on," I start to say, not even the slightest bit eager to talk about myself. "What're you doing up here when all your friends are downstairs?"

He sits up on one elbow and glances at his hands, his body still turned toward me.

"Maybe I was looking for you."

I tilt my head down, my brow quirked in amused suspicion. "Yeah, right."

"What? You don't believe me?" He pretends to be offended, but I see the effort he's putting into teasing me. Maybe he can sense my sadness? Maybe the broken boy is straining to cheer up the broken girl. The thought has a gentle smile lighting up my face.

"I'd like to," I admit boldly.

My admission catches his full attention, his glazed eyes searching mine. His expression remains firm, but there's something woven beneath it. Curiosity? Awe? Confusion? I'm not sure. I can't pinpoint what he's feeling, but I sense it's not all bad.

"You wanted me to come find you?"

Hearing him say it aloud makes me feel exposed. It's been five years. I shouldn't want him anymore, but I can't deny that my heart picks up speed when he's near, or that it threatens to throw itself at him anytime he glances my way.

Glancing down at my lap, I fiddle with my fingers. I can feel him shift beside me and a moment later, his thigh and shoulder brush against my own as he settles down next to me. The contact must surprise him too because he moves to situate himself a couple inches away. When he clears his throat, I peer over at him to find him with elbows rested on his knees, his gaze pinned to the floor.