Chapter 10
"A-a kiss..."
"It's just a suggestion..." He held up his hands, "We don't have to, you can wait for Nathan-"
"No... I do... I wanna try."
"Right now?"
"Why not?"
"Well, um- come here, then..." He cupped my left cheek in his hand and I leaned into his soft touch. He licked his lips and let out a shuddery breath, "You're sure?"
I put my hand on top of his against my cheek and nodded, "Mmm-hmm..."
"Okay..."
He leaned in slowly and we both closed our eyes as our lips met. I didn't feel any different or on the verge of a flashback... but I wanted more. Our kiss lasted longer, and became more, than it should've, and The Doctor took it one step further by fisting the hair on the back of my head. This made me gasp, and have a flashback, again. I could feel my father's grip on my hair and I pulled away.
"Stop..." I whispered.
He pulled away and took a drink of his water as I put my arms on the table, my hands together, and looked down at my placemat. I sighed and picked a fuzzy off my sleeve, then crossed my arms and rest my head on them. I felt The Doctor's hand on my back, rubbing in circles, and sighed, deeply, again.
"You did good," he told me, "you didn't react until I grabbed your hair."
"I know..." I sighed.
"I don't have to help you, if you don't want me to."
I turned my head and looked at him out the corner of my left eye, "I want you to help me, Doctor. It could be years before I meet Nathan... I want to be prepared."
He nodded, "I understand... but we're done for today. You just tell me when you want to work on it more and I'll be right there for you."
"Thank you, Doctor..."
We ate lunch, then went back to the TARDIS. It was silent the rest of the time, there was nothing to be said. I wanted my grandma back, there was no denying that, but I did want to meet Nathan and find out how The Doctor changed his face. I don't know why I really started caring about what The Doctor was, why he called himself The Doctor, or even let myself get so close to him without being careful or skeptical of him. I was softening... and I didn't want to. I went to my room that The Doctor was letting me use; the walls were dark purple and my bedspread was black and purple. I liked it... it was different from my room at "home". My room at home had walls that were an ugly shade of gray and a red bedspread with white sheets.
I shut my door and threw myself, face first, onto my bed. I felt the burning itch on my arm, the more I thought about how much I had told him, how much I had let my guard down. I got out of bed and locked my door... I went over to my nightstand, pulled out my sketch book, opened it, and took out the razor blade that I had hidden in there. I got up from the bed, started walking towards my bathroom, pulled my dress over my head, tossed it onto the floor, and stripped off my bra and underwear as I walked to the bathroom. I locked the door behind me, started the bath, sat on the edge of the tub, and brought the razor blade across my, right, inner thigh. I hissed at the stinging sensation of creating a fresh cut on unmarked skin...
"Gin-jah!" I jumped when I heard The Doctor shout my name from the hallway.
I panicked, but composed my voice, "What?"
"Stop it, and bring it here," he told me.
Fuck...
There was no getting around it... He probably felt my time line, or whatever, shift, again. I opened the bathroom door, opened my room door, put the razor blade in his hand, and started to close my door. His hand stopped me from closing it and I opened it back up, keeping my eyes to the floor. My teeth ground against each other as I tried to retain my anger...
"Where is it?" He asked me, softly.
I didn't speak, I just held onto the door frame and lifted up my right leg. I saw his hand move to my leg and his thumb run over the blood trail that my cut had created. I hissed as he touched the open skin, but saw my skin repair and scar right before my eyes. He must've had that cream on his thumb... He pulled his hand away and used the other to lift up my chin and look in his eyes.
"Is that it?" He asked. I nodded and he sighed, heavily, "This has to stop, Ginger... Find some other way to get it out." He looked to my guitar, "Write a song, or something... 'cause your cutting isn't healthy. You could cut too deep, one day, and not be here the next."
My face hardened, "I don't care..."
"I do!"
Author's Note: Short, I know... just bear with me! Review? :3
