Destructive Healing (Part 2)

Chapter Two

Harlen's POV

It was a nine hour drive with lots of open country followed by some of "The Worlds...".  We took lots of pictures, cute coupley pictures and goofy dumb pictures.  Nix didn't much like the stopping and starting, but my motto was to enjoy the journey.

I could see the ocean before we even entered the small town and I felt a sense of...something.  I couldn't really describe it.  It was like I was small and insignificant, but also full of meaning and peace.

It was getting dark, the sun setting over the horizon and it had been a long day, but I wanted to see it.  The beach was my favorite place to go and I know that's why he suggested this as a place to go.  Maybe he did know that something was wrong.  He was just trying to do what he did best; help.

"Can we go to the beach?" I asked, looking over to him.  "Please?  Just for a few minutes?"

He nodded, giving me a warm smile and I saw a flash of relief in his eyes.  "Yes, darling, yes we can."

I turned back to the ocean and leaned back in my chair.  He was worried about me.  Maybe my lie wasn't as good as I thought it was.

My heart picked up as we made it onto the beach and drove as close to the ocean as we dared.

Elijah put the car in park and shut it off.  I could feel his eyes on me, but I kept my own on the setting sun.  Seeing it broke my heart and filled it at the same time and I didn't think that was possible, to feel both things so fully.

"What are you feeling?"

I didn't move.  I just kept my eyes locked on the horizon.  "I'm not sure," I answered truthfully.

He was quiet for a moment before he went on.  "It's been a while since you've been here, not since you were a kid, if I remember right.  The feeling, whatever it is, must be overwhelming."

Kind of.  I just shrugged.

"Don't describe it in sentences," he told me, taking me back to the bronze girl at home.  "Describe it in words."

The day he asked me to do that, the word I had come up with was hope.  Today it was far from that.  I opened my mouth to answer, but he was already talking.

"Please," he said, his voice so quiet, it broke my heart.  "I would really like the truth."

My eyes fell from the beach to my hands.  The two cuts Peter had helped give me were healed, but the scars were puffy and white, very clearly there.  My hand wasn't swollen anymore, it didn't hurt and it was probably thanks to the pills that it healed so quickly.  "Uh," I said, looking back to the beach.  It was so colorful.  Oranges, pinks, purples, light blues, dark blues and finally black.  I wanted to be truthful with him, but I didn't want to break his heart.

"I know you're afraid of hurting me," he said when I didn't answer.  "Don't be, please.  Remember what I said in the classroom all those months ago?  I put my hand over your heart and I told you to stop thinking of everyone else and focus on yourself.  Don't worry about me.  I will be fine, worry about you."

I swallowed, but remained quiet.

He was quiet for a long time when I didn't answer this time.  The sun had set, the stars shining when he finally decided to speak.  "I never told you about when I found you that day in the cabin," he finally said, his voice so quiet and broken.

I rolled down the window and leaned out of it, trying to let the sound of the ocean drown out whatever he was about to say because, honestly?  I didn't want to hear it.  I didn't want to remember, I didn't want to know.