Saving Nicole

Chapter 19: Scarred

Nicole's POV
--

As soon as our lips brush, I pull away with wide eyes. Even from the small contact, sparks roar through me, making me want more. "Dallas!" I lower my voice a good amount so his mother and the doctor can't hear. My cheeks flare a bright red.

Dallas stares up at me with his sightless eyes, his face emotionless. The lids slowly fall closed as he lets out a breath. "If I'm going to die, I want to die happy." This startles me. "I knew you would pull away." As he talks, I realize that even I saw it coming. That's why I was so fast to pull away. Because he's basically half dead and I didn't want to hurt him. Of course, my first kiss has to be with him when he's like this and we don't even actually kiss!

"Why did you do that?" Even though his lips are cracked, it still felt good and I can't help myself as I rub my lips with my finger.

"I n-needed to know." He states simply, inhaling through his nose.

"Know..?"

"Know what your lips tasted like." He mutters, his hands twitching. "I needed to know. And now I can die happily."

"No, Dallas! You can't die." I frown, brushing some more stray hairs out of his face. "You have to stay alive! I can't loose you, too..." I mutter, cradling his head with wet eyes.

The car lurches suddenly. Dallas groans and grits his teeth. "They'll c-come after me again, Nic..." He says quietly. "E-even if I heal, the next time, they w-will kill me." His voice is hoarse and dry, giving me a reason to grab a water bottle from the door cupholders. It crinkles in my hands, but I quickly unscrew the top and lift up his head to pour some water into his mouth. His eyes open as he stares straight in front of him.

"I know.." His breathing is shallow, so I hold his head closer to me.

"Nic?"

"Y-Yeah?"

"How... How did you know where I was?" I flinch, glad he can't see me.

"I had a vision."

"Oh.." He says, wincing. And that's when I realize that he's drifted off into sleep. He's lost too much blood.

I help him sit up slightly and lean against my side with his head on my shoulder, hearing him cry out quietly when his skin moves. This movement makes me move one hand to his own, lacing my fingers in his bloody mess of a hand. My other hand wraps around his back, resting gently on his scarred stomach. As soon as it comes in contact, he hisses and tenses his muscles.

Will he just calm down? I rub my hand slowly across his stomach until his breathing becomes slightly even. Every once in awhile, he cringes, flinching and groaning. Nightmares.

--

After we reach the hospital and get him in a bed, Carly suggests me staying with him while she went and got us some lunch. Wow, did time fly.

When the room is cleared, I get into the white hospital bed Dallas occupies. The springs squeal angrily at the weight as I become comfortable. The doctors have him hooked up to nameless machines, trying to sustain his life. Already, all the worst cuts and scratches are starting to heal. But, the bullet hole, the knife hole, and all of his broken bones are not. His fingers are the same as well.

Dallas is sprawled out, his face looking peaceful. I curl into his side, enjoying his warmth. This feels really good, and I feel my eyes start to droop. I turn so I'm facing towards him and press my head gently against his bare chest where his heart is. The thumping of it provides a steady rhythm for me to close my eyes to. And that's when I drift off.

--

After a while of sleeping, my eyes open drowsily. Dallas's arm is around my waist, his head curling next to mine. A content sigh leaves my lips. Then, I realize we aren't alone. There are about four doctors in the room, their white coats hanging on their shoulders. None of them are Doctor Monte. They pace around, messing with equipment and papers. Carly is sitting in a chair next to Dallas's bed and watching him with loving eyes. Why hasn't anyone made me move? She catches my eye, smiling softly.