All I Ever Knew Was Your Name [Nick Robinson]

FIFTEEN

lovely by billie eilish with khalid

"Just hold still, okay?" my voice is so quiet and soft, and it has been for quite some time. I feel as if I get any louder, the fragile boy before me will combust, and it will be all my fault.

My thumbs slowly and carefully smooth out the bandage over Nick's forehead. I'm trying to be as cautious as I can. It seems as if he's been hurt enough, and I don't want to add to it. I could never hurt him.

"Okay," I exhale, departing my hands from his face. "You're all good."

He's sitting on the edge of my bed, looking up at me so endearingly. He's looking at me as if I just saved his life, and maybe I did.

"Thank you, Mary," he murmurs, remaining on my bed. He can stay there as long as he'd like. He can stay there forever if he truly wants. He can stay there as long as it means he's safe from whatever— whoever— it is that's hurting him. "I appreciate it."

He still hasn't told me any other details of the cause of his wounds. I don't ask. I don't want to keep pushing. I don't want him to resent me for being worried about him. I don't want him to resent me at all.

All I do is nod, then head towards the bathroom to discard the wrappers from the bandage I used.

"How's your head?" I call from the bathroom, my back turned to him.

"It's fine. I'll survive," he says. Something tells me he's smiling.

I twist my lips to the side and grab the bottle of Tylenol from the shelf, then bring it to him. "I'll be right back. Let me get you some water."

And I do just that. I slowly move down the stairs, to the kitchen, and retrieve him a glass of water for his medicine.

As I fill his glass, I look out the window at his home. There's a light on downstairs, and I wonder if his father is in there. I wonder what he's like. I wonder if I can meet him anytime soon. I wonder if he's as bad as my mind is making him seem. I wonder if I'm scaring myself, and Nick is actually telling the truth.

I just don't know.

I bring the glass of water upstairs to Nick, who is smirking softly up at me. "This is kind of like deja-vu."

"What?" I raise an eyebrow, my lips curving upwards just barely to match his.

"That's right. I forgot," he pops two pills in his mouth, then swigs down some water. "You were too drunk to remember last night."

I laugh, then take the glass from him. "I remember some of it."

"Oh yeah?" he tests, leaning back on my bed. He's propping himself up on his elbows, and he looks so beautiful. The playfulness in his eyes makes me swoon. "What do you remember?"

I look up at the ceiling, then shrug. "I remember you picked me up from Matt's, then I remember you walking me inside. And then," I begin but trail off. It becomes kind of blurry after that, and I struggle to remember.

"Is that all?" he raises an eyebrow.

My eyes shift to the side. I feel as if I look at him any longer, my heart will beat right out of my chest. "I'm sure there was more. I just can't remember right now."

"You don't remember telling me how you were thinking about me the other night?" he asks, sitting upward. His expression is bold, daring, knowing. He knows exactly what I meant when I said it, and he wants me to verify that.

While he remains confident, I'm anything but. I can feel my eyes widen and my palms sweat. "Oh, no. No, I don't remember telling you that."

"But you remember thinking of me?"