Wicked

Chapter 21

Faith POV: 

I pull my legs beside me, curling myself in the chair as I watch the faces enter and exit the room. Cameras flash down the hall as the paparazzi wait outside, trying to get a glimpse of the aftermath. The hospital PA system comes on, reminding us the cafeteria is closing in ten minutes. A large fish tank sits in the wall between the waiting room and the hall, colorful fish rushing around. I wonder if they know there's a world far larger than that tiny tank in a waiting room... 

Someone approaches me, pulling my attention away from the fish. They hold out a coffee out to me, as I stare at it in her hand. 

"I figured if you're anywhere near as tired as I am, you'd probably like a cup." Kristine says, as I take it. Kristine takes this as an invitation to sit down beside me, making me grow tense. Grace rests her head on my lap, sleeping soundly as I run my fingers through her curly hair. "Faith, I'm sorry for... our history..." She says, as I look down at Grace. "I was scared, and I was pretty harsh on you." She calls out, my mind going back to that night in the dressing room. 

So why don't you go find another woman's husband to fuck...

"It's fine. It was a lapse in judgment on my part." I let out, as the memories flood back. The labored breaths against each others skin, the feeling of him guiding me and worshipping every piece and part of me... 

He grabs my chin, kissing me so hard, it takes my breath away. I follow his every motion, moving with him like we are tied together. Sweat drips down his chest, as it presses down against mine, not an ounce of air between us. I rest my hands on his jaw, trying to pull him closer as he gets his hands under me, pulling me up toward him. My knees press against his hips, trembling as he makes me feel like I'm his fire, and he wants to be engulfed in me. He grabs my hands, holding them before forcing them over my head. He pulls his lips off mine for a moment, looking down at me with a breathless grin. He leans down to kiss me once more, intertwining his fingers in mine. I feel myself grow tense, before breaking my lips apart from his. I gasp, slipping my hand out from under his and grabbing onto the back of his head as my body feels like it's caving in on itself. He grabs my hand, forcing it up above my head once more, before kissing my collarbone. I hold my breath, before hearing myself moan, unable to hold it in any longer. 

"Tim's doing well. The doctor said he has a pretty severe concussion, and he has to get a few more stitches, but he's not in too bad of shape." She reassures me, pulling me out of the memory. I nod, watching Grace's eyelids flutter as she dreams. The sight makes me anxious, as I hope she's deep in a dream and not a nightmare. "How's Scott holding up?" She asks, as I shrug, biting my lip. 

"I couldn't bring myself to go in there." I admit, watching her slight smile fade. She swallows hard as silence falls between us. I lean my head back, resting my hand on Grace's shoulder. "I should've been out there. I could've stopped it before it started." I let out, as she laughs, shaking her head. 

"Honey, I was out there, and there wasn't a damn thing you could've done. They were set on hashing it out." She releases as I glance toward her. She spares me a sad smile, before looking down at Grace. "He isn't like that with you, right?" She asks quietly, turning her gaze toward me. I stare, my throat tightening. I shake my head, unable to lie aloud. She nods slowly, looking back down at Grace. "Good. That's no environment to raise a kid in." She says, as I nod absentmindedly. "Tim's been a little quick-tempered lately, so he's not exactly innocent." She offers, as if I felt guilty for Scott's actions. Maybe I do, but I really only feel sickened over the escalation. 

I wasn't there when the fight began, but I rushed out as soon as I heard the first hit.  I felt my heart stop when I saw Scott over Tim, hitting him long after he was knocked unconscious. When the security peeled Scott off of him, I thought he was dead. Kris screamed, overwhelmed by the gore of it all, while I rushed toward him. I shook him, praying he'd open his eyes. He did.