~Behind Those Eyes~
We didn't stop running until we reached my house. Silently, I lead a worn-out Tristan through the front door and into the darkness of my living room. We stole through the kitchen hand in hand, before entering the bathroom. I flicked on the light and motioned for Tristan to take a seat on the bench top. Rifling through the cabinet, I finally extracted a bag of cotton wool balls and a bottle of disinfectant.
I set about cleaning his face with the disinfectant. He had several deep cuts across his forehead and his nose was slightly crooked. He winced as my fingertips accidently grazed his nose.
"You really should go to the hospital," I murmured, inspecting the ugly yellow bruise that now covered his eye, "I think your nose is broken."
He grunted and remained silent.
"Are you sure?" I pressed, "Your face looks pretty messed up. You could get some sort of infection if it's not treated properly."
He shrugged before grabbing my wrists and pulling me towards him.
"You're the one I'm worried about," he said softly, "Trouble seems to have a way of always finding you."
"Only since I've known you," I joked.
His eyes darkened, "That's what I'm worried about."
I scoffed. "Please, you think that things would have been different? Nick would still be a bastard."
He nodded. "You're right; Nick would still be a bastard. But I wouldn't have been around to beat him up and I wouldn't have been around to take you out of your bed at 2 in the morning. Then he wouldn't have been waiting for us tonight and we wouldn't have been in a fight just now. Without all of that, you wouldn't have got this". He gently traced down my cheek where there was a small graze from my fight with Nick.
He was right, as much as I hated to admit it. If I hadn't walked into Yeri Rest that afternoon my last few weeks would have been a lot different.
Simpler and less complicated, but not nearly as exciting. I wouldn't have changed meeting him for the world.
"But I wouldn't have met you either," I said, "And that's more important to me than a silly little scratch on the face."
Tristan stiffened and he dropped my hands, gently pushing me away from him. I sighed and turned away.
"Why do you do that?" I asked him, busying myself at the sink and avoiding his gaze.
"Do what?" he asked, shifting on the bench top.
"Shy away from me all the time? I think we're making progress and then you become all….distant." I rested my arms on the edge of the sink and peered out into the dark night sky.
"I'm sorry," he replied softly, though his voice was indignant. "I didn't know I was a 'project' of yours and that we needed to be making 'progress'."
I sighed. He was furious, again. It seemed I could never say the right thing.
"That wasn't what I meant at all. It's just, you always seem so angry. And even when you appear happy, I know it's only a matter of time before you're upset again. You're like a walking time bomb Tristan," I exasperated.
"I have a lot to be angry about. I thought you understood that."
"No," I cried. I opened the bin lid and threw in the used cotton wool balls. I slammed the lid angrily.
"I don't understand anything because you won't tell me anything. Do you have any idea how frustrating that is? To have no idea what makes you angry? To have to guess why you're so moody?"
Tristan was silent. He just sat on the bench top staring at me.
"All I know is that your brother's dead and your father's in jail. Am I supposed to guess the rest? You think I don't recognize how you stiffen whenever our conversations get anywhere remotely deep?"
I screwed the lid on the disinfectant and put it away in its cupboard.
"I just want to help you," I finished softly.
"I'm not some charity case, alright?" he snapped angrily, "I thought we were supposed to be friends?"
"I thought that to Tristan, but friends occasionally like to share their problems. You don't even make an effort. We just go around and around in circles and I just can't do it anymore."
"So you're giving up, just because I won't share my secrets with you?" He asked, "Just like that?"
I nodded sadly, "Just like that."
He slid off the bench top and walked over to me. My back was facing him as his hands closed over mine, which were resting on the edge of the sink. I leant back into the curve of his chest and felt his breath on my neck as he nuzzled into it. It was the most intimate contact we'd ever made and tiny goose bumps snaked their way up my arms.
"I want to tell you," he whispered painfully, "I really do."
"But?" I finished for him, "There's always a but."
He chuckled. "But, I've never told anyone before and it's-it's hard to talk about."
I nodded. "I understand that. But maybe if I knew, I'd be able to understand more."
He sighed. "I guess you're right. I'll tell you, just not right now. I think we've had enough excitement for the night."
"Excitement? Is that what it was?" It was my turn to laugh. I threw my head back and Tristan let out a yelp of pain. I turned around quickly to see his nose beginning to bleed again. He gave me a crooked smile.
"Ready to take that trip to the hospital?"
Firstly, I want to apologize for such a long delay! Again, writers block has taken away my mind!
Secondly, thank you to everyone who reviewed! Please keep it up! A million free cookies to everyone who does :)
That's all, hope you enjoy this chapter!