Part Eight

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Finally we got released from the hospital. Mama pulled up to the front off building. Gabe has a broken leg, broken collar bone, sprained wrist, and a total of 42 stitches. All I was a "major surgery" and 14 broken ribs. Poor thing, the football team is going to suffer without him.

We sat in the back together. We drive in silence. I try to put my head on his shoulder, but since most of my height is in my legs, my head end up on his arm. He gently caresses my jaw with his sprained hand. This bitch. <3

-time skip-

We were both exhausted somehow from doing nothing all day. Our bags went into a corner, off went Gabe's shirt, in came Mama to come take our hospital clothes to wash them and say goodnight.

Once Mama left I put on one of Gabriel's other shirts and took my hair out a bun. As if he could read my mind, Gabe stared at me with begging eyes as he patted his chest. I tried to crawl into my favorite spot best as my broken ribs would let me.

"Damn." he said

"What?"

"Your so fucking hot, Amé."

I reached a hand to his bruised jaw.

"Qu'est-ce qu'on va faire avec toi, mon amour?" I said.
(what are we going to do with you, my love)

🕸Mon Garçon🕸Onde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora