Thanks to you guys who read my stories and commented.

It really helps to know what you think.

Ahhhh OMG fanfiction overload :dead:

 

Jknc I love all of your stories. Each one has its own special feeling.

 

*sigh*

 

I think I'm gonna start at the very first page of this thread and safe every story I can find :wacky:

Something Worth Fighting For

 

Chapter five

 

 

 

 

Chris’ POV

 

It was bright.

 

Too bright.

 

Is it over?

 

It is.

 

Do I have to go?

 

Do you want to?

 

Can I choose?

 

You can.

 

If I go back and not with you… will it hurt?

 

Don’t you already know the answer?

 

I do… I… I don’t know what to do…

 

Time is short Chris, decide.

 

So I could go back…

 

But we both know that you don’t want to.

 

I have to…

 

You have to.

 

Who are you?

 

You.

 

You are I!?

 

Yes. Now decide. Come with me, or leave me.

 

I can leave myself?

 

Until the next time we meet.

 

Now it is becoming pitch-black.

 

I feel alone.

 

~~~

 

Guy’s POV

 

I looked up at the wooden ceiling liners of my bedroom. I gazed at it and my glance wandered to the dark spots on the wood. I was lying down here in my bed, my hands beneath my head, my feet on the blanket and my thoughts all scattered over the past few months.

 

So much happened since the incident.

 

Will was sent into jail, Jonny suffered a mental breakdown, and Chris…

 

I managed to bring him back, because I pushed the hell out of his chest when he was lying there, dead, on the dirty ground. It still hurts me when I think of him, so absolutely vulnerable, set out to the barbarous wrath of Will.

 

We visited so many hospitals, I’m not even able to count them all.

 

Chris suffered from internal bleeding, broken ribs, a broken arm, severe injuries on his head, especially his face, he even almost lost one eye.

 

My stomach twisted as I thought of Chris’ bloody and squashed face. I visited him so many times, and I saw his damaged body so often, but still, every time I saw him I was at the edge of crying.

 

I visited him almost every day, together with Jonny, but he didn’t stay as long as I did, because he had a girlfriend and he couldn’t leave her all day long.

So I was sitting alone in this sparse room, with the light green walls.

 

I looked down to this slowly breathing man, covered in tubes and bandages. I only knew he was alive because the monitor above his head showed a steady green line. Everything I could hear in this room was the beeping of the heart monitor.

 

There were many blood reserves all around his bed, and all of their little hoses disappeared in Chris’ skin. They donated him the essential elixir of life, and I was so happy that there were people out there who gave it away, to safe lives, just like this one of my best friend.

 

Oftentimes I just sat there and held Chris’ hand. I wasn’t sure where his mind was, maybe in some kind of a dream world? I mean, it’s still a mystery what exactly happens to a person who is in a coma. There are scientists who say that a coma patient doesn’t feel anything at all and that they’re like primitive animals. They just lay there, drooling all the time and not even able to eat. The only sense in their live is to just lay there and get older.

 

But there are also scientists who say that coma patients feel.

That they are not just a pile of breathing and consuming flesh that is wasting space.

They know when you’re sitting next to them, they feel when you touch them, and they are happy when you don’t leave them alone.

 

When I first saw Chris lying there, I thought, “Well hey, maybe he can’t talk to you, but he can hear you, so talk to him.”

I wasn’t even thinking about what some of these scientists said.

When I looked in Chris damaged, but still peacefully face, I knew he was there.

Physically and mentally.

Just with an unseeable blanket of unconsciousness covering him.

 

 

 

:bigcry:!!

 

Poor Chris!!

 

Poor Guy!!

 

Poor Jon!!

 

DAMN YOU, WILL. :angry:.

 

 

More!!! :D

Thank you everyone for the nice words about my story :) The next couple of parts will be up tommorow, me thinks :D

God you write fast. :stunned:!!

 

It's amazing! Can't wait for more!

^I second that!

OMG you´re an amazing writer, seriously!!:wideeyed:

 

Ahhhh OMG fanfiction overload :dead:

I think I'm gonna start at the very first page of this thread and safe every story I can find :wacky:

I already did that!!:smug:

Its worth it! There´s so many great fics here!! :D

 

SOMETHING WOTH FIGHTING FOR!!!! :dance:

I want so bad to read the next part of it!!!

Thank you everyone for the nice words about my story :) The next couple of parts will be up tommorow, me thinks :D

 

I hope so!:)

 

I love 'Break up' and 'Something worth fighting for'. You're brilliant!

Oh and I have something for you guys :D

 

 

A next part of my story!

 

I bet you all forgot what happened in the last chapter, so have a look here.

 

Okay, here's the next chapter:

 

Something Worth Fighting For

 

Chapter five

 

 

 

 

Chris’ POV

 

It was bright.

 

Too bright.

 

Is it over?

 

It is.

 

Do I have to go?

 

Do you want to?

 

Can I choose?

 

You can.

 

If I go back and not with you… will it hurt?

 

Don’t you already know the answer?

 

I do… I… I don’t know what to do…

 

Time is short Chris, decide.

 

So I could go back…

 

But we both know that you don’t want to.

 

I have to…

 

You have to.

 

Who are you?

 

You.

 

You are I!?

 

Yes. Now decide. Come with me, or leave me.

 

I can leave myself?

 

Until the next time we meet.

 

Now it is becoming pitch-black.

 

I feel alone.

 

~~~

 

Guy’s POV

 

I looked up at the wooden ceiling liners of my bedroom. I gazed at it and my glance wandered to the dark spots on the wood. I was lying down here in my bed, my hands beneath my head, my feet on the blanket and my thoughts all scattered over the past few months.

 

So much happened since the incident.

 

Will was sent into jail, Jonny suffered a mental breakdown, and Chris…

 

I managed to bring him back, because I pushed the hell out of his chest when he was lying there, dead, on the dirty ground. It still hurts me when I think of him, so absolutely vulnerable, set out to the barbarous wrath of Will.

 

We visited so many hospitals, I’m not even able to count them all.

 

Chris suffered from internal bleeding, broken ribs, a broken arm, severe injuries on his head, especially his face, he even almost lost one eye.

 

My stomach twisted as I thought of Chris’ bloody and squashed face. I visited him so many times, and I saw his damaged body so often, but still, every time I saw him I was at the edge of crying.

 

I visited him almost every day, together with Jonny, but he didn’t stay as long as I did, because he had a girlfriend and he couldn’t leave her all day long.

So I was sitting alone in this sparse room, with the light green walls.

 

I looked down to this slowly breathing man, covered in tubes and bandages. I only knew he was alive because the monitor above his head showed a steady green line. Everything I could hear in this room was the beeping of the heart monitor.

 

There were many blood reserves all around his bed, and all of their little hoses disappeared in Chris’ skin. They donated him the essential elixir of life, and I was so happy that there were people out there who gave it away, to safe lives, just like this one of my best friend.

 

Oftentimes I just sat there and held Chris’ hand. I wasn’t sure where his mind was, maybe in some kind of a dream world? I mean, it’s still a mystery what exactly happens to a person who is in a coma. There are scientists who say that a coma patient doesn’t feel anything at all and that they’re like primitive animals. They just lay there, drooling all the time and not even able to eat. The only sense in their live is to just lay there and get older.

 

But there are also scientists who say that coma patients feel.

That they are not just a pile of breathing and consuming flesh that is wasting space.

They know when you’re sitting next to them, they feel when you touch them, and they are happy when you don’t leave them alone.

 

When I first saw Chris lying there, I thought, “Well hey, maybe he can’t talk to you, but he can hear you, so talk to him.”

I wasn’t even thinking about what some of these scientists said.

When I looked in Chris damaged, but still peacefully face, I knew he was there.

Physically and mentally.

Just with an unseeable blanket of unconsciousness covering him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

I LOVED IT!!!! It was so good and we waited for so long, so it's even more special :)

all these stories are great!!! :D :D

i'm still working on my new one, i've got about 3 chapters so far. :\

Oh, goodie :dance: I can't wait to read it, Brooke :)

Me too!!

Oh and I have something for you guys :D

 

 

A next part of my story!

 

I bet you all forgot what happened in the last chapter, so have a look here.

 

Okay, here's the next chapter:

 

Something Worth Fighting For

 

Chapter five

 

 

 

 

Chris’ POV

 

It was bright.

 

Too bright.

 

Is it over?

 

It is.

 

Do I have to go?

 

Do you want to?

 

Can I choose?

 

You can.

 

If I go back and not with you… will it hurt?

 

Don’t you already know the answer?

 

I do… I… I don’t know what to do…

 

Time is short Chris, decide.

 

So I could go back…

 

But we both know that you don’t want to.

 

I have to…

 

You have to.

 

Who are you?

 

You.

 

You are I!?

 

Yes. Now decide. Come with me, or leave me.

 

I can leave myself?

 

Until the next time we meet.

 

Now it is becoming pitch-black.

 

I feel alone.

 

~~~

 

Guy’s POV

 

I looked up at the wooden ceiling liners of my bedroom. I gazed at it and my glance wandered to the dark spots on the wood. I was lying down here in my bed, my hands beneath my head, my feet on the blanket and my thoughts all scattered over the past few months.

 

So much happened since the incident.

 

Will was sent into jail, Jonny suffered a mental breakdown, and Chris…

 

I managed to bring him back, because I pushed the hell out of his chest when he was lying there, dead, on the dirty ground. It still hurts me when I think of him, so absolutely vulnerable, set out to the barbarous wrath of Will.

 

We visited so many hospitals, I’m not even able to count them all.

 

Chris suffered from internal bleeding, broken ribs, a broken arm, severe injuries on his head, especially his face, he even almost lost one eye.

 

My stomach twisted as I thought of Chris’ bloody and squashed face. I visited him so many times, and I saw his damaged body so often, but still, every time I saw him I was at the edge of crying.

 

I visited him almost every day, together with Jonny, but he didn’t stay as long as I did, because he had a girlfriend and he couldn’t leave her all day long.

So I was sitting alone in this sparse room, with the light green walls.

 

I looked down to this slowly breathing man, covered in tubes and bandages. I only knew he was alive because the monitor above his head showed a steady green line. Everything I could hear in this room was the beeping of the heart monitor.

 

There were many blood reserves all around his bed, and all of their little hoses disappeared in Chris’ skin. They donated him the essential elixir of life, and I was so happy that there were people out there who gave it away, to safe lives, just like this one of my best friend.

 

Oftentimes I just sat there and held Chris’ hand. I wasn’t sure where his mind was, maybe in some kind of a dream world? I mean, it’s still a mystery what exactly happens to a person who is in a coma. There are scientists who say that a coma patient doesn’t feel anything at all and that they’re like primitive animals. They just lay there, drooling all the time and not even able to eat. The only sense in their live is to just lay there and get older.

 

But there are also scientists who say that coma patients feel.

That they are not just a pile of breathing and consuming flesh that is wasting space.

They know when you’re sitting next to them, they feel when you touch them, and they are happy when you don’t leave them alone.

 

When I first saw Chris lying there, I thought, “Well hey, maybe he can’t talk to you, but he can hear you, so talk to him.”

I wasn’t even thinking about what some of these scientists said.

When I looked in Chris damaged, but still peacefully face, I knew he was there.

Physically and mentally.

Just with an unseeable blanket of unconsciousness covering him.

 

 

 

 

AHHHHH I LOVE IT SO MUCH! :bigcry: :heart:

I hope Will doesn't stay in jail the whole time, though. I kind of want to see Guy beat him up. :veryangry2:

^^Again, me too!! :angry::P

AHHHHH I LOVE IT SO MUCH! :bigcry: :heart:

I hope Will doesn't stay in jail the whole time, though. I kind of want to see Guy beat him up. :veryangry2:

 

 

And I love this serious, devoted-to-his-friends Guy!

And I love this serious, devoted-to-his-friends Guy!

 

yeah... :wacky:

excuse me

i need some help

 

i been writting some fanfics but now i lost something...

I HAVE NO IDEA OF WHAT CAN I WRITE!!

 

so i'm looking for...some inspiration...

so...i need to you tell me wich fanfics are the best...to read them

Mine.

 

 

I'm kidding, I'm joking. :P You should read Careful Where You Stand, and other than that, just explore the Fanfic List. Then again, it depends on what you want to write about. If you like romance/drama/sad stuff, definitely read Careful Where You Stand. But if you like comedy, read the Prospekt of Oz.

I like angst... drama....

 

and some perv love scenes, especially with Guy:wink3:

 

New chapter! :D

 

^Yeah, I'm pretty much with her. I like angst, drama, and the occasional pervy scene. :D

 

Side Effects

Chapter 4

I'm kind of unsure about this one...it's weird. :confused:

 

 

 

 

“What are you going to do with the disk?” asked Jonny quietly. “If you’re not going to the police.” I took time to swallow a mouthful of tea. I had asked for beer or something with alcohol, but Jonny had insisted he didn’t have anything. I knew he was lying, but I also knew he wouldn’t back down. The tea was burning its way through my mouth and throat, but it felt good in a way. It felt cleansing. But then it reminded me that I had yet to take a shower, which absolutely horrified me.

 

“I don’t know…Can I use your shower?” I asked, interrupting his delicate line of conversation. He stared at me from across the kitchen table, uncertain and defeated.

 

“Yeah.” He looked like he wanted to mention something about DNA evidence, but it didn’t matter at all to me.

 

“Thanks.” I grabbed a change of clothes out of my duffel and made my way down the long hallway. I did it without thinking; I knew where everything was in his flat.

 

“The, uh…use one of the towels in the cabinet. Soap’s in there too.”

 

“Yeah, got it.” I muttered, shutting and locking the bathroom door. There was only one thing on my mind: hot water. A bit hesitantly, I shed my clothes and folded them on top of the counter. I felt oddly exposed, even with the door tightly locked and no one else around. I remembered what Jonny had said and took a towel from the cabinet, laying it on the counter by my clothes.

 

When I finally made it into the shower, I turned the knob for the water and twisted a second one far to the left for more heat. I stood back, giving the cold water time to turn warmer. My skin was practically tingling with apprehension by the time it became hot enough. I stepped under the flow of water and inhaled sharply. It was far too hot for comfort, but I left the knob alone.

 

I hadn’t anticipated rubbing my skin too hard, but that’s what happened. Once I started, I just couldn’t stop scrubbing. Everywhere. I could still feel Eddie’s presence all over my body, despite the fact I hadn’t even been awake when it had happened. Through the steam, I could see my skin turning pink, but it was the last thing I was worried about. My fingers were beginning to cramp up from holding the sponge so tightly, and little noises of distress were working their way up from my throat.

 

And that’s when it hit me. Eddie hadn’t just been all over me. He’d been in me. For god knows how long.

 

I was never going to be able to remove the mark he’d left on me. I was tainted. And with that simple realization, reality came down on me with crushing force.

 

Suddenly, my legs couldn’t hold me, and I slid to the floor of the shower. The water continued to pound against my sensitive skin, flowing over my back and dripping into my eyes. I curled up, pulling my knees to my chin, oblivious to any pain it caused. I watched the water glisten and sparkle in the low light, swirling down the drain. I remembered when I was a child; sitting and watching ants crawl across blades of grass. Everything seemed unreal; slowed down. I began to sob; terrified of the strange sensation. I just wanted to feel something again…anger, pain, anything.

 

I eventually became aware of desperate and irritatingly loud banging at the door. The wood muffled the sounds of Jonny yelling, but I could still recognize his voice. The pounding paused for a moment, and then continued.

 

“Guy! Guy, listen to me…open the door!” Jonny cried, his voice nearly breaking with desperation. “Please, man…come on!”

 

I figured I should probably listen to what he was saying; I didn’t want to make him angry. I angled myself against the wall so I could use it to push myself up. Finally, I managed to. The water was beginning to run cold at this point; my skin had stopped tingling. Instead I was shivering. I turned off the water, and the banging abruptly stopped. I stepped out of the shower and pulled in a long, shuddering breath. I then proceeded to dry off, which was made insanely difficult by the sensitivity of my skin. I didn’t feel so disconnected anymore. I just felt empty, like nothing mattered.

 

As I pulled on my clothes, I recognized that something was terribly wrong. I knew I shouldn’t feel that way, but I couldn’t make the feeling go away.

 

When I first opened the door to the bathroom, I thought that Jonny had left. But then I looked down, and saw him sitting on the floor a few feet away. I tilted my head but lacked the will to ask him why he was there. Besides, I already knew why. I knew he’d heard my near-breakdown. The thought made me tense with shame as Jonny stood and walked up to me. He had the look of a man who’d recently been tortured; he was relieved, but there was still residual pain.

 

He frowned in worry as he looked me over. “Umm,” he whispered, “Your skin.” I touched around my neck and winced. I had really rubbed that area raw.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Why are you apologizing?”

 

“Because I did it.”

 

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I know. Here, follow me…I’ve got some lotion in there somewhere.” He hesitated before he went into the bathroom, as if he were trespassing in unknown territory. Then he took a deep breath and stepped into its humid air. He opened the cabinet, rummaged for a minute, and pulled out some sort of moisturizer. He held the bottle out, giving me the option to take it or not. Jonny had been nothing but kind and patient, and I didn’t want to cause him any more trouble. I took the bottle and nodded. “I’m here, you know.” I was suddenly very focused on the mat beneath my feet. “I’m here…if you need me.”

 

I didn’t really know what to say. I figured he was being serious and meant what he said, but his offer confused me. I’d done nothing but drag him down over the past couple of hours, and I wondered how he really felt about me now. Was I still the same person to him? I really wanted to be, but I didn’t even know if I was the same person. “Guy?” he asked, reaching out as if to prod me. Then he stopped, suddenly withdrawing his hand. I had mixed feelings about that. I wished I could endure his touch, because I longed for its warmth and familiarity. Yet at the same time, I was repulsed by the thought of someone else’s hands anywhere on me.

 

“What is it?” I finally acknowledged him.

 

“Did you hear me?” His question wasn’t annoyed or impatient; he was genuinely asking. I nodded and tightened my grip around the bottle of lotion. “Is a lot of your skin as red as that?” he asked.

 

“Sort of.”

 

“Shit. Shit, man...”

 

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, my throat tightening. “I’m sorry, Jonny.”

 

He shook his head, his eyes widening at the tremor in my voice. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” I shook my head. Nothing was ever going to be okay again. Jonny, picking up on my line of thinking, gathered enough courage to reach out again. He touched me on the shoulder, risking a light squeeze. I swallowed nervously, but I couldn’t quite figure out why I was so uncomfortable with it. I trusted Jonny with my life, so why should I dread the feeling of his fingers on my shoulder? And then I remembered the way Eddie had squeezed it shortly before he’d brought me upstairs. Jonny seemed to recall the bruises as well, because he suddenly withdrew his hand and apologized.

 

I wanted to tell him it was okay; that it wasn’t his fault he forgot. But I didn’t.

 

 

 

i agree with kyra, Careful Where You Stand was amazing. :heart:

ediit: you also need to read Side Effects, because it's equally amazing. :dead:

holy shiz :shocked2: so many fics to catch up on!!

@ Kyra: :stunned:

^Yeah, I'm pretty much with her. I like angst, drama, and the occasional pervy scene. :D

 

Side Effects

Chapter 4

I'm kind of unsure about this one...it's weird. :confused:

 

 

 

 

“What are you going to do with the disk?” asked Jonny quietly. “If you’re not going to the police.” I took time to swallow a mouthful of tea. I had asked for beer or something with alcohol, but Jonny had insisted he didn’t have anything. I knew he was lying, but I also knew he wouldn’t back down. The tea was burning its way through my mouth and throat, but it felt good in a way. It felt cleansing. But then it reminded me that I had yet to take a shower, which absolutely horrified me.

 

“I don’t know…Can I use your shower?” I asked, interrupting his delicate line of conversation. He stared at me from across the kitchen table, uncertain and defeated.

 

“Yeah.” He looked like he wanted to mention something about DNA evidence, but it didn’t matter at all to me.

 

“Thanks.” I grabbed a change of clothes out of my duffel and made my way down the long hallway. I did it without thinking; I knew where everything was in his flat.

 

“The, uh…use one of the towels in the cabinet. Soap’s in there too.”

 

“Yeah, got it.” I muttered, shutting and locking the bathroom door. There was only one thing on my mind: hot water. A bit hesitantly, I shed my clothes and folded them on top of the counter. I felt oddly exposed, even with the door tightly locked and no one else around. I remembered what Jonny had said and took a towel from the cabinet, laying it on the counter by my clothes.

 

When I finally made it into the shower, I turned the knob for the water and twisted a second one far to the left for more heat. I stood back, giving the cold water time to turn warmer. My skin was practically tingling with apprehension by the time it became hot enough. I stepped under the flow of water and inhaled sharply. It was far too hot for comfort, but I left the knob alone.

 

I hadn’t anticipated rubbing my skin too hard, but that’s what happened. Once I started, I just couldn’t stop scrubbing. Everywhere. I could still feel Eddie’s presence all over my body, despite the fact I hadn’t even been awake when it had happened. Through the steam, I could see my skin turning pink, but it was the last thing I was worried about. My fingers were beginning to cramp up from holding the sponge so tightly, and little noises of distress were working their way up from my throat.

 

And that’s when it hit me. Eddie hadn’t just been all over me. He’d been in me. For god knows how long.

 

I was never going to be able to remove the mark he’d left on me. I was tainted. And with that simple realization, reality came down on me with crushing force.

 

Suddenly, my legs couldn’t hold me, and I slid to the floor of the shower. The water continued to pound against my sensitive skin, flowing over my back and dripping into my eyes. I curled up, pulling my knees to my chin, oblivious to any pain it caused. I watched the water glisten and sparkle in the low light, swirling down the drain. I remembered when I was a child; sitting and watching ants crawl across blades of grass. Everything seemed unreal; slowed down. I began to sob; terrified of the strange sensation. I just wanted to feel something again…anger, pain, anything.

 

I eventually became aware of desperate and irritatingly loud banging at the door. The wood muffled the sounds of Jonny yelling, but I could still recognize his voice. The pounding paused for a moment, and then continued.

 

“Guy! Guy, listen to me…open the door!” Jonny cried, his voice nearly breaking with desperation. “Please, man…come on!”

 

I figured I should probably listen to what he was saying; I didn’t want to make him angry. I angled myself against the wall so I could use it to push myself up. Finally, I managed to. The water was beginning to run cold at this point; my skin had stopped tingling. Instead I was shivering. I turned off the water, and the banging abruptly stopped. I stepped out of the shower and pulled in a long, shuddering breath. I then proceeded to dry off, which was made insanely difficult by the sensitivity of my skin. I didn’t feel so disconnected anymore. I just felt empty, like nothing mattered.

 

As I pulled on my clothes, I recognized that something was terribly wrong. I knew I shouldn’t feel that way, but I couldn’t make the feeling go away.

 

When I first opened the door to the bathroom, I thought that Jonny had left. But then I looked down, and saw him sitting on the floor a few feet away. I tilted my head but lacked the will to ask him why he was there. Besides, I already knew why. I knew he’d heard my near-breakdown. The thought made me tense with shame as Jonny stood and walked up to me. He had the look of a man who’d recently been tortured; he was relieved, but there was still residual pain.

 

He frowned in worry as he looked me over. “Umm,” he whispered, “Your skin.” I touched around my neck and winced. I had really rubbed that area raw.

 

“Sorry.”

 

“Why are you apologizing?”

 

“Because I did it.”

 

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I know. Here, follow me…I’ve got some lotion in there somewhere.” He hesitated before he went into the bathroom, as if he were trespassing in unknown territory. Then he took a deep breath and stepped into its humid air. He opened the cabinet, rummaged for a minute, and pulled out some sort of moisturizer. He held the bottle out, giving me the option to take it or not. Jonny had been nothing but kind and patient, and I didn’t want to cause him any more trouble. I took the bottle and nodded. “I’m here, you know.” I was suddenly very focused on the mat beneath my feet. “I’m here…if you need me.”

 

I didn’t really know what to say. I figured he was being serious and meant what he said, but his offer confused me. I’d done nothing but drag him down over the past couple of hours, and I wondered how he really felt about me now. Was I still the same person to him? I really wanted to be, but I didn’t even know if I was the same person. “Guy?” he asked, reaching out as if to prod me. Then he stopped, suddenly withdrawing his hand. I had mixed feelings about that. I wished I could endure his touch, because I longed for its warmth and familiarity. Yet at the same time, I was repulsed by the thought of someone else’s hands anywhere on me.

 

“What is it?” I finally acknowledged him.

 

“Did you hear me?” His question wasn’t annoyed or impatient; he was genuinely asking. I nodded and tightened my grip around the bottle of lotion. “Is a lot of your skin as red as that?” he asked.

 

“Sort of.”

 

“Shit. Shit, man...”

 

“I’m sorry.” I whispered, my throat tightening. “I’m sorry, Jonny.”

 

He shook his head, his eyes widening at the tremor in my voice. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay.” I shook my head. Nothing was ever going to be okay again. Jonny, picking up on my line of thinking, gathered enough courage to reach out again. He touched me on the shoulder, risking a light squeeze. I swallowed nervously, but I couldn’t quite figure out why I was so uncomfortable with it. I trusted Jonny with my life, so why should I dread the feeling of his fingers on my shoulder? And then I remembered the way Eddie had squeezed it shortly before he’d brought me upstairs. Jonny seemed to recall the bruises as well, because he suddenly withdrew his hand and apologized.

 

I wanted to tell him it was okay; that it wasn’t his fault he forgot. But I didn’t.

 

 

 

Oh man, I love it.You're so great

1

ahhh, suspense!!!

i can't wait for the next part. :D