The Beauty of Living | ON HOLD

03. little stars

every day — jeremy zucker (stripped)

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e l l i o t

     A WEEK HAD passed by since the incident with Elliot and Gabriella. After that, they started talking every day whenever the girl could stop by, which was almost every day. There was something about her that made Elliot want to spend hours on end with the girl, talking about everything and nothing.

     Today, Gabriella was sitting in one of the chairs, a small yellow flower in her hair with a beige sweater on. Elliot didn't notice her freckles until now; they looked like small stars scattered across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She held galaxies inside of her.

     "What are you thinking about?" Gabriella asked the sick boy as a song softly played from her phone. It was something they both came accustomed to once the girl found out Elliot rarely listened to any music. The boy thought her music taste was amazing and as the song played in the background, he found himself humming.

"How beautiful you are," Elliot responded with a small grin when he noticed her cheeks turn red. "Your freckles are like little stars. It's really mesmerizing."

"Little stars?" she repeated in a curious tone and let out a small laugh.

"As if all of the constellations came together in the form of freckles," he told her, making them both laugh a little. "No, seriously though. You're beautiful— freckles and all."

"Y'know, I used to hate my freckles. I saw all of these models with flawless skin and thought 'why can't I have that?'" she told the boy, opening up another part of herself. "It's silly, really, but I think at some point, a lot of girls want to have these perfect bodies and perfect faces. They notice all of their flaws and compare themselves to other people, never noticing all of the good things about themselves. They become their own destruction."

Elliot took her words in; she always knew just how to say things. Every word that came out of her mouth fit perfectly into what she was trying to say. They become their own destruction. She was right— every word that left her mouth was completely and utterly correct as much as he didn't want to admit it. Maybe he was his own destruction.

"You're really beautiful. The way your eyes brighten up when you're talking about something you love. The way your eyes crinkle when you laugh. The way your nose scrunches up when you think something is gross. Everything about you is the epitome of beautiful," Elliot told the girl, leaning closer toward her. Gabriella stood still in her seat, her breath hitching. "I wouldn't change anything about you."

They were only inches away. Their eyes were connected, and Elliot brushed a strand of black hair behind her ear. She gave the boy a small smile in return.

"You're so pretty," Gabriella told him, emphasizing the word 'pretty.'

"Pretty?" Elliot asked, scrunching his nose up. "I'm a man! I don't think pretty is the right word." They both laughed and a glint of emotion appeared in both of their eyes.

"You're everything. Pretty, beautiful, handsome," she told the raven haired boy, making him blush. By then, they were back to their normal positions and not as close as they were moments before.

Both of them made each other feel an emotion they hadn't felt since they were little. They were both so lost in their own thoughts that they didn't realize that they could be fixed no matter how broken they were. But what they did realize was that even through everything, the two would be there for each other. Perhaps they could even fix one another.

"Knock knock," Lindsay knocked on the door before coming in. "Alright girly, Elliot has to get a few things checked up on."

Gabriella stood up from her chair and gave the raven haired boy a wave and a smile before walking out of the room. Lindsay let out a hum and walked towards him. She got out a sphygmomanometer and wrapped it around his upper arm.

"How are you feeling?" Lindsay asked the boy.

"I'm not sure," he answered vaguely. It was true though; he didn't feel as numb as he did when he was with Gabriella. It was a strange feeling, but he didn't mind it. If anything, the boy craved it.

The nurse smiled at him before doing the things that she had to do every day. It was like a doctor's appointment that happened on the daily, checking if his temperature and blood pressure were stable. As always, his blood pressure was quite low.

"You took your pills this morning, right?" Lindsay asked and in response, the boy nodded.

"Always have, always will," he mumbled, remembering the promise he made to his ex-girlfriend. Though his relationship with his ex was long gone, his promises still stuck.

Elliot and her had been together for three months and by that time, he stopped taking his pills. They felt fake to him and he hated them, but of course, his ex believed that is he took the medicine, he'd get better.

"Promise you'll take them every day," the girl murmured, her eyes filled with determination and hurt. She didn't want him to die, not like this.

"I promise," Elliot whispered and she hugged the boy. Her head was in the crook of his neck, and he felt his skin get wet. She was crying. "I'll be okay."

"Thank you," she whispered shakily, her arms around him. She didn't want to let go— not now, not ever.

It was one of the only times he felt the need to live, to fight, so he wouldn't make her sad or distraught. Elliot touched his neck, remembering how it felt when she held him. He remembered it so clearly; she was holding on for dear life, not wanting him to leave this world.

What happened that made her leave just nine months later? What changed in her? Was it something he did wrong?

The raven haired boy could never figure out the answer to it. The only viable answer was that she just lost hope in him. It was something that came normal to him, yet it hurt so much when the thought came to mind. He never thought in a million years that Sierra would give up on him and yet here he was, alone.

Lindsay let out a sigh, making him break away from his thoughts. He didn't realize a few tears slid down his cheek until he felt the wetness. It seemed almost impossible to not be sad these days. He was alone and though he knew his parents loved him, they rarely visited. They told their son that it hurt too much to see him with a terminal disease.

They didn't even know if it was terminal.

     The boy wished he didn't have the stupid illness— maybe he would've been happy. Maybe everybody would've stayed and he could've been happy.

"What's wrong?" Lindsay asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. He felt himself stiffen at the physical contact.

"Nothing," he told her, not in the mood to talk about his problems. Even if he did, he didn't know where to begin. There were so many of them.

Lindsay removed her hand and started to walk out before stopping by the door. "Let yourself breathe. I know you're holding your breath."

And with that, he was left alone with his thoughts once again.

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hey guys, i hope you enjoyed this chapter. this story is already kind of sad wow

qotd: are you an introvert or extrovert?

aotd: i'm actually an ambivert

stay beautiful, stay handsome, stay you. mwah

— aspen