Noodle's eyes met mine in alarm. "Murdoc, I don't know if I can-"
I rolled over. "It doesn't matter, Noodle. Go back to sleep."
She sighed, doing as I said, staying as far away from me as possible this time.
(*)(*)(*)
I woke up first in the morning, getting in the shower and turning the temperature all the way up, as usual. I plugged in my iPhone to my dock, blaring the music. It probably woke Noodle up, but at this point, I didn't really give a shit, to be honest. If I had to be a dick to stop myself from caring, then that's exactly what I would do. Even if it made her hate me.
Even as I thought this, I knew it wasn't true. But really, what else could I do? She didn't feel the same way about me. She probably never would, and I was going to be alone forever.
My thoughts drifted back to the emo poetry, and I groaned, stepping into the hot water and massaging shampoo into my hair.
(*)(*)(*)
I closed the bathroom door behind me, freezing when I heard a barely repressed squeak come from the bed. Looking over, I saw Noodle, the sheets up to her chest, her wide eyes on my bare chest. I didn't get what she was staring at, until I looked down and saw my scars had returned. They weren't green, because my glamours were up, but they were very, very visible, an almost silvery white against my pale skin. It had been a couple weeks since I'd Hunted. I looked at her and raised an eyebrow.
"What happened?" she whispered, and I shrugged, not really answering her. How could I tell her that these came from my dad, who, by the way, was literally Satan? There was no way she'd believe me. I wouldn't believe me if I was her. "Murdoc, you can tell me anything," she insisted, and I sighed, letting my shoulders droop.
"Abusive dad," I said, leaving it at that. I flinched when I felt her hand on my bare shoulder, turning me around.
"Is that why you said you're used to being hurt? Because I'm not your dad, Murdoc, you can't treat me like this because he did this to you. It's a completely different situation-" I jerked away from her, heart stinging.
"Shut up," I said, and she went pale. "You have no idea what you're talking about. You have no idea what I've been through. You can not even imagine. So don't lecture me on what I can or can't do, because reality is, you don't know me at all."
"I'm sorry," she said, voice numb. I didn't feel bad for what I'd said. Not even a little bit. Another little lie I decided to tell myself. "If you'd let me get to know you, I wouldn't say things like that. You're so closed up all the time."
"I've been hurt before, Noodle. It's hard to let people in." I turned back around, rifling through my drawers for a shirt, to cover up the scars that had started this fucked-up beyond words conversation.
"You don't really love me, you know."
I turned around, slowly this time. "And your reasoning for that deduction is...?"
"Love is give and take. In that order. You won't give me a piece of yourself because you're scared, I get it. You may care for me, but it isn't love. Love is when you trust someone with yourself, when you believe they won't hurt you. And neither of us feels that way towards each other, no matter how much we care."
Ouch. That stung. I leaned against the dresser, letting her words sink in. We stood there for hours, minutes, I'm not sure. Eventually I looked up and met her eyes. "You're right," I said. She looked surprised. "But I also know you're lying."
"I'm not lying-"
"Don't feed me that crap. I know you are. I saw you last night. You trusted me to take care of you, trusted me, no one else, to help you through this situation you're in." I stepped closer to her. "You made the right choice. I won't leave you alone. See, love is more than giving yourself to someone. Love is protecting that person, no matter the cost. And I've already failed at that once," I ended, stalking to the bedroom door and downstairs, to the basement where I could relax and forget all the memories she dredged up.
The memories of how I'd failed her, in another lifetime, in another world.
(*)(*)(*)
All four of us decided not to go to school for the next month or so. Noodle was the only one with a legitimate reason; when it came to Russel, Stu, and me, we were just tired of going just to go when we didn't need to. Noodle's parents had just died-the schoolboard didn't give a shit if she didn't go, because the people who made teenagers go to school in the first place at least realized that parents dying was a bad thing.
Noodle went to the funeral, to the service. Then she didn't really seem to care about much of anything, except pestering me and trying to bare my soul against my will. It was irritating, but deep down, a part of me was attracted by it.
We were in the middle of one of these conversations now.
"Murdoc, let me in already," she said, slamming her cup down on the table and letting her tears fall freely.
"You can't force it, Noodle," I answered, changing the channel on the TV. She stepped in front of it and I shut the damn thing off. There was nothing on anyway. "Honestly, you have no idea how hard it is for me."
"What did you mean when you said you'd failed to protect someone once?" I winced. She always got to the point fast, no bullshitting or beating around the bush. She sagged. "Just please be honest with me. I want to help you. I care about you."
My heart cracked open, just a little bit.
"There was this girl..."
(*)(*)(*)
"...the point is, she died, and I could have stopped it, but I was too slow. I failed. She died, and...and I've blamed myself ever since. That's why it's so hard to let people in, why I can't trust someone easily. I've hung onto my pain for so long, I don't want anyone else to have it, I guess. It's messed up. I'm messed up. Honestly you shouldn't be involved with me because I'm damaged beyond repair. You can't fix me, Noodle. Nobody can."
I looked up at my alarm clock. Damn. I'd been talking for hours, without even meaning to. Once I'd started, I couldn't stop, and she'd pulled me up to my bedroom when Stu and Russ got home, sitting me down on the bed and nodding to continue. Two hours later and I finally came up for air, and she was...she was crying. I felt horrible immediately after.
"I'm sorry, Noods," I said, reaching for her, then dropping my hands. "I didn't mean to." The lamest excuse in the book. "I'm sorry." I stood up, ready to go and leave her alone, because I figured that was what she wanted. She grabbed my wrists, holding me there. I didn't sit back down.
"I didn't know," she whispered, "I didn't know. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. It must have been so hard for you to care about someone else after that and I went out with your brother, and I'm sorry, I didn't know, Murdoc, I'm sorry-"
I couldn't take it anymore.
I kissed her.
Unfortunately, she shoved me away, a shocked look on her face. This time my heart didn't even crack. I was so close to being over the whole heartbreak thing.
"I'm not ready," she said, simply. I nodded. I had to respect that, much as I didn't like it. I sat down next to her, falling back on my bed, arms crossed behind my head, tracing patterns on my ceiling with my eyes.
"Alright, your turn," I said, trying to fill the silence. "What's your backstory?"
(*)(*)(*)
Time leap: 2 weeks
(*)(*)(*)
Noodle had finally taken to sleeping near me again.
Thank God. I'd been having nightmares again recently, all of them about her dying, of course. Being able to wake up and see her there next to me was refreshing. It made my heart stop pounding sooner than it usually did. The urge to pull her into my arms nearly overwhelmed me every time, but I wanted her to make the first move this time, instead of me. Last time hadn't gone so well...
My heart gave a painful little squeeze. The memory of her lips on mine, so fresh in my brain, was painful. But at the same time, I was falling.
Scarily, terrifyingly.
I wondered if this was what it was like for the angels.
(*)(*)(*)
Another short chapter but it's all I got.
~Psyke
