Until We Bleed
by: LunarEclipse360
A/N: thanks for the reviews guys. This will probably be the only update this week because I'm going away to a family reunion on Friday and I won't be back until late Tuesday. My beta is back so this was looked over by her.
Warning: rated M for sexual situations, language, drug use, sex
Chapter 25
Two weeks.
Two weeks was how long Gabriella had stayed in the hospital. Maximilian had called several other times, but Troy hadn't picked up. He didn't know the guy, nor had he met him, and he didn't want him to get the wrong idea. So he left returning his phone calls to Gabriella.
Quiet and hesitant, Gabriella walked through the front door. She wasn't sure if she was really ready to return home. Actually, if she could pack up and move this second, she would. Gabriella ran from things that reminded her of the nightmares of her life. In her Father's house, her brother's room and her parents' room were off limits to her. She refused to enter either of them. Her family's beach house had been abandoned long before her suicide stint, but at least she had visited it every once in a while. Now, it just stood there by the ocean; sad, alone and forgotten. She wanted to do the same with this apartment. She was afraid that if she stayed there, the emotions she felt from that day would return and she didn't know what she would do.
"Gabriella?"
Focus returned and she found herself staring into Troy's bright blue eyes, laced with worry and concern. He said nothing as he stroked her cheek, trying to get her to respond to him. Her mouth opened, but nothing came out. She looked as if she wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say.
"May I use your bathroom?"
He grinned. "Technically, it's your bathroom since you own this place."
She nodded, but didn't return the grin. She wanted to, but she just couldn't. Turning on her heels, she went in the direction of the second bathroom and locked herself in. She took a seat on the edge of the bathtub and began to cry. She didn't want to be there. She wanted to abandon this place and be rid of the memories for good.
On the other side of the door, Troy stood with his ear against the door, listening to her cry. He could feel his heart twisting in his chest when he heard how broken she sounded. Sighing, he knocked on the door and heard the cries lower in volume.
"Gabriella, open the door."
He waited. Minutes later, he heard the lock click and he backed away from the door. When her tear-stained face came into view, his heart broke within his chest and he immediately pulled her into his arms. She buried her face into his chest as he buried his hand into her hair, messaging her scalp gently. Her fingers clutched his shirt as his other hand pulled her closer, trying to eliminate all space between them.
/0\
"It's the memories," she explained, her head tucked comfortably in the crook of his neck.
After twenty minutes of them standing in front of the bathroom door, he opted for them to move into his room where she could lay down. He hadn't expected to stay with her, but she pleaded for him to. So, he climbed in beside her and she curled up next to him; laying her head on his chest.
"Memories?"
She nodded. "I believe that every place someone has either lived in or visited has a memory for that person...even if they don't remember it. For instance, Sharpay's living room was where I got my tattoo."
"Her living room?"
"Yeah. It was...February 18th, my eighteenth birthday. I wanted a tattoo, so Shar called up a friend of hers that was an artist. Tawny was her name, and she had multiple tattoos on her body. She asked me what I wanted and I told her that I wanted a Lotus flower on my lower back. Tawny smirked and replied 'A tramp stamp? What would a good girl like you want with a tramp stamp?'. I told her that I was far from a good girl. She shook her head, shrugged and told me to lie on the floor; giving me fair warning that it would hurt. And like hell it did."
He chuckled. "I bet it did. That's what happens when you get something drilling just above your spine."
She smiled briefly before it went away. "But anyway, I've tended to stay away from places with bad memories because it just makes me feel horrible."
"Is that why you don't go to your beach house anymore?"
Her eyes flickered to his. "Sharpay told you, huh?"
"Not by choice. The topic kind of slipped and she knew I wouldn't stop nagging her if she didn't tell me."
She stared at the far wall in front of them. "I was in a bad place at that time; a place I didn't ever want to go back to."
"Sorry that I made you go back."
She shook her head. "You didn't. Believe me, Troy...what I was feeling that day was nothing compared to what I felt when I was seventeen. Everything just seemed to go wrong and I was tired of it all. I wanted to die, but I didn't want to die alone. That was the reason why I called Sharpay. I didn't expect her to find me so fast, but I should have known. Sharpay knows me better than I know myself. She knew where I would be; knew where I wanted to be."
"That's why you took the sleeping pills; you wanted to die fast, but not fast enough to the point that Sharpay wouldn't reach you before your heart stopped."
"Exactly."
"So why did you slit your wrists this time?"
"Because I didn't expect for anyone to find me. I hadn't called Sharpay this time and I knew she would be spending time with her parents in San Diego. I didn't expect for her to call you or...for you to actually listen to her."
"Why would you think I wouldn't listen to her?"
"Because, Troy, you were so mad and I thought that you would just think that it was just me trying to get attention or something."
"Gabriella." He bit his tongue, trying to hold back the confession that stood at the tip of it. "Gabriella, you should have heard the way Sharpay sounded over the phone. I've never heard her sound so scared before. She wanted me to find you and I knew I had to."
"But only because she would have kicked your ass if you didn't."
He chuckled. "Yes, but also because...I was scared. I was scared that you would do something drastic and when I found you with your back propped against the wall like that, I was terrified. Whether you believe me or not, you've become a really important person in my life. I don't know what I'd do if I lost you."
As he buried his nose in her hair, her heart skipped a beat. Was that a confession? Was he inadvertently admitting that he liked her? She wanted to find out, but she was afraid of what he might say. Pushing it to the back of her mind, she looked for something else to say; something to take her mind off of the butterflies in her stomach.
"What are your parents like?" she asked, not realizing the wound she was picking at.
"What?"
She looked up. "Your parents; what are they like?"
"Why would you...?"
"You never tell me anything about yourself." She sat up; back to him. "You've never mentioned where you're from or the school you went to or what your friends were like and I...I know I'm prying again, but I really want to know more about you."
Lifting himself to mirror her, he ran his hand down her back. "I was born in Albuquerque, New Mexico and lived there until I turned eighteen. I had two friends, both of which knew me since Kindergarten. My parents are your typical American parents. My Dad's the coach of the High School basketball team and my Mom is a housewife."
"And your sister?" she asked, looking back at him.
He should have given her credit for figuring that one out. "My sister..." He smiled softly remembering his baby sister, "my sister is sweet, caring, headstrong...much like you actually. She's four years younger than me. Her birthday was the same day you went into the hospital."
"Sorry for ruining that."
He shook his head. "It's fine." That day had been ruined long before he had met Gabriella.
"You must really love her."
"I do. She was the one person I didn't want to let down."
"Was?" she asked, mimicking his reaction when she told him about her mother.
"She's not dead, she's just...I haven't seen her in five years."
"Oh. Well, at least you know where to find her."
"...Yeah."
"Troy..."
"What about you?" he asked, quickly changing the subject. "What was your life like before your brother died?"
She shrugged. "Much like it is now just a bit happier."
"What do you mean?"
"My Father never loved me. He loved my Mother and he loved Alejandro, but not me; never me. I'm nothing but a burden to him. He never calls to ask how I am or just to talk; it's always something about business. That's why he doesn't know about my attempted suicides. He didn't call, so I didn't tell him."
"Did your Mother know?"
"Yeah. She knew, but there was nothing she could do about it. She convinced him to at least be nice to me and act like a father, but he only did that when she was around and once she died, he stopped completely. But his hostility towards me caused my brother to hate him. Alejandro loved me...like you love your sister. He would do anything for me and that included standing up to our Father when he was being an asshole to me...but when he turned thirteen, he became a different person. He started hanging out with different people and I felt him slipping away from me.
Arguments with our Father about me turned into fist fights. I've never known Alejandro to be so violent, but that's what he became. It terrified me because he wasn't the loving brother I knew. He was someone else. I wanted to hate him for it, but then he would do something nice for me and I would forget all about hating him. But then...he died...and he left me without any protection from my Father's words."
"How old was he?"
"Seventeen. After his death, I started rebelling and began drinking."
"How old were you?"
"Thirteen."
"Thirteen? Are you serious?"
"Yeah."
"Shit, I didn't start until I was fifteen."
She grinned. "So I have two years on you?"
He chuckled. "Seems like it."
Happy to get off of the topic of her brother's death, she looked at him. "What made you start drinking?"
"Curiosity. In high school, I had a friend whose father was an alcoholic. Every day, we'd wait until he passed out and then we'd raid his liquor cabinet. At first, it was just curiosity, but afterwards, we would do it so we wouldn't have to think about the life we had."
"Your life didn't sound so bad."
"There were things that I was going through at that time."
"Teenage problems, huh?"
He nodded. "I guess you can say that."
"What about your first time? How old were you then?"
"Sixteen."
"Really?" she said with a smile. "So was I."
"There's a shock. I would have sworn you would have lost it earlier."
She shook her head. "Despite what my Father thinks, I was a virgin until I was sixteen. But...I don't actually remember it."
"Let me guess, you were drunk when it happened."
"Guilty."
"What do you remember?"
"Well, I don't remember his name. I think it was Mason, but I'm not sure. He was tall, had short blonde hair and baby blue eyes." She smiled slightly. "I thought he was some kind of god. It was at a house party where I met him. I was slightly wasted when he first came up to me, but I could still think correctly. By the time I was completely drunk, I could feel his hand on my thigh and I knew what he wanted. I wasn't refusing, so he took me up to one of the empty rooms and...everything else is a blur until I woke up the next morning; alone and in pain."
"And you really don't remember anything?"
"Nothing. Except for the strange fact that I woke up with my clothes on."
"What's so strange about that?"
"Because I could have sworn that he undressed me."
"Shit. He must have been feeling guilty if he actually put your clothes back on you before he left."
"Guilty? Why would he feel guilty?"
"Probably because he was your first. He most likely thought that you had already been deflowered beforehand. Ten bucks says that he had never taken anyone's virginity in his life before you."
"Then why didn't he stop when he felt something preventing him from going any further?"
"Because most men are horny bastards that just want sex."
She smirked. "Like you."
He nodded, returning the smirk. "Exactly. Speaking of which." He moved closer to her. "When are we gonna have another roll in the sac?"
Pushing him away, she made a disgusted noise while a smile decorated her face. "Perv."
"I thought you said you missed this side of me?"
"I did? What, the hell, was I thinking?"
"That you want me."
Laughing, she shook her head. "Not at all."
"Liar."
"I'm not lying."
"Yes you are."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
Troy pushed her onto her back and straddled her; his fingers finding her sides. "Are too," he said as he began tickling her.
"Stop," she laughed while trying to move his hands away. "Troy, s-stop, p-please."
"Not until you say that I'm the sexiest guy on Earth and you want me."
"I won't."
"Then I'm going to keep tickling you."
Her body jerked away from his fingers as he continued to caress her sides. Her infectious laughter was music to his ears, causing his heart to speed up and a smile to make its way to his face. Never, in his life, had he felt the way he did with her. It scared him, but thrilled him at the same time.
"Alright," she said, breathily. "Alright, I'll say it."
He stopped, but kept his fingers close to her body. "Really?"
She nodded. "Yes."
"Then say it."
Catching her breath, she opened her eyes and looked into the beautiful bright blue of his. "You're the sexiest guy on Earth and I want you."
Something about the way she said it—maybe the truth hidden in her big brown eyes—made his heart jump start. The smile that had been on his face slowly faded as he continued to stare at the woman beneath him. Her own smile removed itself from its place as the tension between them grew. Troy's eyes flickered from hers to her lips and, before he could stop himself, he leant down and kissed her.
Fire burned within his veins at the contact and he needed more. His hovering hands went to her sides and pushing her shirt up to feel the smooth expanse of skin beneath it while hers found his hair; fingers threading through his auburn tresses. A voice deep inside told him to stop while he still had a chance to, but he couldn't. He wanted this too much.
The soft sound of lips touching was soon drowned out by the ringing of phone. Neither of them, however, wanted to acknowledge it. After the fifth ring, the voicemail picked up and the familiar male voice that they both knew filled the apartment.
"Gabriella, it's Max again. Look, I really wish you would call me. I'm worried about you." He was expecting someone to pick up the phone, but when no one did, he continued speaking. "When you get this message, can you please, please, call me? Bye."
The intruding voice caused Troy to find himself again and he pulled away from her. She looked up at him with questioning eyes. She wanted to know why he stopped. If she said she hadn't been enjoying that, she would have been lying. If she had said that she wasn't turned on, she would have been lying.
"Troy." His eyes turned to hers. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "Nothing." He sat up on his heels. "You should probably call him before he has a heart attack or something."
"Troy..."
"I need to take a shower anyway." He got up and went into the bathroom without sparing Gabriella another glance.
Fighting the urge to cry, Gabriella got up and went into the living room to make a call. She pushed all thoughts of Troy to the back of her mind as she waited for Maximilian to pick up his phone.
"Hello? Gabriella?"
"Hey, Max. I, uh, got your message."
"Where have you been? I've been calling you for the past two weeks."
"I was just out of town, that's all."
"Without telling anyone?"
She laughed dryly. "You can ask my Father; it's what I do."
"You could at least have told me, though. I was so worried."
"You said there was something you wanted to ask me?" she asked, trying to get off the subject.
"Oh, yeah. My grandparents are coming into town with my cousin who lives with them and I wanted to know if you wanted to have dinner with us?"
"Yeah, sure. Just say when and what time."
"Tonight, and I'll pick you up at seven?"
She nodded. "I'll see you then, then."
"Alright. Bye."
"Bye."
She hung up the phone and sighed. Was it a good thing to meet more of Max's family? Okay, yes, it was a good thing in the aspect that they would be a part of her family soon, but did they know that this was an arranged marriage? Did they know that she and Max weren't in love? Groaning quietly, she placed the phone back on the base and lied down across the couch. She wished her life were easier; wished she could think of some way to get out of this predicament she was in.