Free Fall (A Furry Story)

VII

Waiting is pure hell.

In the time it takes for Henry to come to me, I've managed to make a small pool of tears on the bathroom floor. I can't move myself from the corner, because I don't have the strength or the motivation to do it. The bruises are already starting to show, my limbs tremble the moment I try to put pressure on them.

I slowly am able to keep my tears from escaping, though they're easier to stop than the blood.

It's not that I can't help it. My blood has a harder time clotting than most other people, I found that out the hard way when Father went a bit too far and I had to be rushed to the hospital. The doctor made sure to warn me not to have any sort of cut or injury, lest I bleed out because my blood doesn't function correctly. I didn't need the warning... Father does what he wants, when he wants.

I reach for another washcloth, holding it to my head while tossing the soaked one in the sink. It lands with an unappealing slosh, and I groan when the new cloth soaks some of the sweat that's been puddling on my forehead. I take a glance at the small slit of exposed skin on my arm...

Still bleeding.

I sigh as I cover the cut with my washcloth, and close my eyes. The peace is there for only a minute, when my phone rings once again. Grabbing the device from the sink above, I read Henry's latest message.

Hey, I'm at our usual spot. Where are you?

I shift myself so the rag is still pressed against my arm, and message him back with a hint of a smile on my face.

I'll be there in a moment, I'm a bit preoccupied

All he replies with is a simple okay, and it's more than enough for me. With some newfound vigor, I find the energy to move my legs, and within a few moments I'm standing upright again. I tie the rag on my arm, just to keep tabs on the bleeding, and balance myself once again before walking out of the bathroom. A few more moments of awkward trudging through my bedroom, and I'm out into the hallway.

I almost laugh when I think of how ridiculous I must look right now: a bruised, limping boy with a bloody washcloth pressed against his arm, desperately trying to get to his only love. I halfway snort, though my chest hurts deeply doing so. The pain in my chest subsides a few moments later, and I continue walking. But it's funny... through all the pain, I'm still heading towards the one bit of a promise I have right now.

The cold winter air nips at my exposed skin as I pass through the door to the gardens, and I shiver as my feet slide against the barely frozen pathway to our spot. I pass by the bench that has Millie's name carved into it, a smile gently lifting the features of my face. I linger for just a moment, recalling that summer's day before moving on.

The wind picks up, and I bury my muzzle into the folds of my jacket as I make my way to the spot in the fence. Henry waits there, beaming, shivering.

"Hey," I call out to him, my voice muffled by the jacket.

He's already wagging his tail, working himself over the fence like he's done so many times before. Henry is in my arms within another moment, and I bury my head in the soothing spot between his neck and shoulder.

"Hi," Henry giggles, his tail never ceasing to stop. We stay there, hugging, for what feels life forever, but that's fine. I want it that way...

When we pull apart, it's only because the rain picks back up again.

I hoped that I could stay wrapped in Henry's loving arms longer, I would do anything to keep it like that... but rain doesn't care much about feelings and gushy stuff. The first drip lands on my nose, and my reaction ends up head butting him in the chin.