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Of course he’s right, and I hate him for it.
But I can’t do it. I can’t talk to anyone because talking about it makes it real, and I’m not ready to face the consequences of that.
I didn’t do it again.
Elliot saw to that.
And once I go back to my dorm and classes start up, I’ll be distracted. I’ll have something else to think about.
I can get through this.
I can beat this.
But as I lie there with Elliot’s gaze burning into my face, all I can think is…
I’m not strong enough to do this alone.
* * *
“Hmm,” I murmur as something brushes my hip.
It feels nice, soft and warm and?—
“Elliot?” My brows knit as I glance over my shoulder to find the boy in question pressed up behind me.
“What are you?—”
“Stop talking,” he grumbles, squeezing my hip gently.
My heart practically skips out of my chest at his proximity, the way he continues to touch me.
“When did you…”
“Get into bed?” he asks. “After two hours of trying to sleep in the chair.”
“You couldn’t have taken the couch downstairs?”
“Didn’t trust you wouldn’t try to hurt yourself again.”
My stomach lurches at that but I manage to choke out, “Oh. We should probably get up. The others?—”
“Relax, it’s early. They’re not due back until lunch time.” He snuggles closer, and it is not helping the erratic beat of my heart.
Elliot’s mood swings give me whiplash, and I’m not sure I’ll survive another day in the Chapel with him, sequestered away in his room. As if I belong here.
Silence envelops us and I’m almost certain he’s fallen back to sleep. But there’s no chance of that for me as I reflect on everything that’s happened in the last few days.
I almost hurt myself again.
I would have if Elliot hadn’t interrupted me.
And it makes me feel so ashamed, so weak to admit that, but it’s the truth.
I wanted to feel that momentary release. That split second where I controlled the pain and it felt… good.
A rush of tears burns the backs of my eyes but I blink them away as I lie there, safe in Elliot’s arms.
But a noise beyond the door catches my attention. Is that… footsteps?
