Page 16 of #Lovestrong

Declan

Lena sits completely still on top of the toilet seat in her bathroom, slightly bent over, staring at her knees while I dab peroxide on her arm. I know it might not mean much to her, but I'm proud of her for texting me before she did anything more than this. In that brief moment, even though she barely knows me, she trusted me to show up.

I put a wide enough piece of gauze on her arm to cover the new nick and the scabbed cut, just so she doesn't have to worry about anyone accidentally seeing them. As I reach around her to throw the garbage in the trash can, she leans forward and rests her head on my shoulder, letting out a sigh. My heart breaks for her.

"Thank you," she whispers.

I wrap my arms around her body and she leans in harder. Rubbing my hand up and down her back, I'm lost on what to say. I can't explain why I'm so drawn to her, but this girl has captured me. Like a bug in a spider web, I can't get out. Even if I wanted to, she's like gravity— constantly pulling me back to her.

"Lena, tell me something about you. Anything."

She sits up and tucks her hair behind her ears, biting her bottom lip as it trembles. When she glances up at me, there are tears in the bottoms of her eyes, and again, I want to lean in and kiss them away. She's falling apart and I want her to let me in, let me hold her together until she can find the strength to do it herself.

"Like what?"

Reaching up, I gently run my finger through the hair on the side of her head and follow the curve behind her ear. "Anything."

She stares down at her hands again and when she looks back at me, her green eyes cloud over. Her lip trembles harder and it's like she's here, but in her mind, she's somewhere else.

"Why do you look at me like that, Lena?" I tilt my head, leaning closer to her, our heads only inches apart.

"What do you mean," she whispers, before taking a breath so deep her shoulders move with the effort.

I touch under her chin so she looks me in the face. "Like you're somewhere else when you look at me? Like you're seeing something else at the same time you're seeing me."

A tear slides down her face and I almost regret asking. The last thing I want to do is cause her more pain.

"You remind me of someone. Sometimes, when I look at you, I see him, and it hurts." She sniffles and starts to cry again, hanging her head forward and trying frantically to wipe the tears from her face. "It's like someone punches me in the chest with a battering ram. It hurts to take a breath, to move. Everything just hurts."

I grab her arm and shift on the edge of the tub, pulling her into my lap. She doesn't resist, just puts her arms around my neck, buries her head against my shoulder, and cries quietly. "Okay. I'm sorry, baby. It's okay. I got you."

And I realize in that moment, it's the other way around. She's got me . . . all of me.