Chapter 12: The scars force us to remember.
I woke the next morning feeling sore but content. My arms were still around Lee but he had moved into a spread out position, his arms almost reaching from one side of the bed to the other. I smiled at this, but the smile didn't last long. He'd leave me today, and I couldn't let my emotions get the better of me. I wasn't that type of person. I looked at him again and tears welled up in my eyes. I quickly forced them back and decided to lie down again, leaving my arms around Lee. Not being able to go back to sleep I just stayed like that, trying not to think too much. It was awhile before Lee woke up, the first thing he did was yawn and stretch like a cat, forcing me to let go of him and move away. I sat up and he followed, looking at me and smiling, his hair crazily spread around his face.
"I didn't wake you, did I?" He asked me, giving me a half-there smile. I shook my head and looked down to make sure the blanket was covering me. I suddenly felt shy for some reason.
"Is everything alright?" He asked, placing one hand under my chin, turning me to face him. I nodded; I didn't want to say anything, because if I spoke I knew my voice would carry too much emotion. I didn't want to make him feel bad.
"Good." He said smiling, hugging me and pushing me back down onto the bed. Him being on top of me put me in the same position I had been in just last night.
"No, I'm still sore…" I mumbled, but he just rubbed his face against mine.
"But you're too cute, Gaara!" He pulled back to look at me. "But don't worry, I won't do anything if you don't want me to." And once again I was cursing him for being so nice. If he was mean maybe I could stand him leaving me but no, he had to be perfect. He had to be perfect and he had to love me. Maybe this is why people always say love hurts. I was about to wish that I'd never fallen in love in the first place. But that wasn't true. I'd rather have him love and leave me then never had loved me at all. Being the good guy he was he flopped back onto his side so that he wouldn't lie on top of me. He quickly turned onto his back and starred at the ceiling. I just looked at him, he seemed to be thinking about something but I didn't ask what. I poked at is forearms, which I just now noticed where still covered in those bandages of his.
"Why do you wear these all the time?" I asked; tempted to take them off so I could see the flesh they hid.
"Well, they're fashionable." He said, turning his head to look at me and smile.
"No, really." I said, turning onto my stomach. I continued to poke his arm, just for the hell of it.
"They also help protect my arms, especially while I'm training." He said, turning his head back to face the ceiling.
"So is it okay for me to take them off?" I asked, messing with the part around his fingers.
"I guess…" He said hesitantly. I started with his fingers, slowly unraveling it and folding it up to put aside. Once I had completely uncovered his hand I looked at it. It was covered in scars, some old and fading some looking fresh and angry. None of them were bigger than an inch, but they were almost everywhere.
"What happened here?" I said, holding his hand as if it could break any second. But from all the cuts it had endured I knew it was too strong to break anytime soon.
"Training." He said simply, his mind wandering elsewhere. I put my own right hand to his; his was much bigger than mine. He suddenly curled his fingers over my hand and held it in his. My hand may have been much smaller, but it fit into his perfectly. Seeing his scared hand hold my deathly pale one made my heart flip. It was too good to be true, having someone love me like he did. And I knew that it wouldn't last, he'd leave and things would have to resume to how they had always been. But while he was here I wanted to savor it.
"Why do you try so hard?" I asked. But what I really wanted to know was how he tries so hard. How does he keep himself going? How does he stay smiling? When all this must have caused him great pain he just shrugged it off. Like pain was nothing to him.
"Why? Well, because I want to become strong." He said, turning to face me again, looking at me, still holding my hand in his.
"But why do you have to be so strong?" I thoughtlessly asked. Everyone wanted to become stronger. It was in our nature. Everyone has their own reasons.
"To prove myself. And to protect the ones I love." He said, smiling at me. His statement was so cliché it was almost sarcastic. But for him, that was his reason. He was my cliché knight in shinning armor, and I don't care how cliché that sounds.
"Does that include me?" I teased. He laughed at little.
"No." He said, giving me a mocking smile.
"Why not?" I said, giving him an overly dramatic frown, which caused us both to smile.
"Because you're stronger than I am." He said, his smile still there. His smile seemed endless sometimes, like it wouldn't fade no matter what. Then I remembered, the hand that was holding mine was attached to his once broken arm. The arm I had broken. I took my hand away from his and began to quickly unwrap the bandages around his arm.
I took a sharp inhale, almost a gasp but not. There were scars and cuts a plenty. But looming under them, like a sea monster under tiny fishing boats, was a massive scar. Lee tensed up when I touched it, but I had to see it, I had too look at it all. I lifted his arm, seeing the scar was on the under part of his arm, too. It was a purplish color, I could tell it had healed, but that there was always going to be marks there. And the person responsible for this scar was none other than myself. I moved onto my side so I could hold the arm to myself without putting too much pressure on it.
"Is it like this on your leg, too?" I asked, too afraid to check myself. In the haze of passion that was last night I couldn't remember ever getting a good look at his left leg. He nodded.
"Yes, Gaara-san, but it's alrigh…" He started, but stopped when he looked at my face. I knew I must've been quite the sight, tears almost daring to fall as I bit my already swollen bottom lip, trying to choke back the tears. Instead of saying anything more he just took his arm out of my grasp and used it to hold me instead. He kept me in a tight embrace as I fought against my tears. He had added the suffix to my name again; he must've been scared of what I would do. Even though he was so close to me I felt the distance growing between us already.
"You're stronger than I am." I finally choked out. I had scarred him so badly, broken his left arm and leg, yet somehow he managed to carry on. That made him stronger then I'd ever be. He just shushed me like it didn't matter and held me close. I swore I wouldn't cry but one tear escaped and fell onto him, but he ignored it. He was too good. Too good for me. I didn't deserve his love. No matter how much I wished I did.
"Let me get up." I finally said after I knew I wasn't going to cry. He quickly let me go so I could sit up and get to the edge of the bed.
"Is something the matter?" He asked, coming to sit next to me. I shook my head.
"No, I'm just going to get dressed." I said, reaching for my boxers on the floor. I put them on, and as I stood up I felt a sharp pain in my ass. "Ow…" I said under my breath as I got up slowly. I tried walking normally, but it hurt too much so I sort of limped over to my closet.
"Did I hurt you that much, Gaara-san?" He said as he put on his own boxers and pants. "Sorry." He said, coming over to help me.
"No, it's okay. I got it." I said and he shrugged, going back over to grab the shirt I had gotten him. I grabbed a black t-shit and pants. I slipped the shirt on and very carefully put the pants on, trying not to make it hurt even more.
"You wear a lot of black, Gaara-san." He said, looking at me, walking towards me.
"I guess." I think most of my clothes are black, maybe all of them. Maybe that said something about my personality, I didn't care. I hesitantly walked back over to the bed.
"You want some help?" He asked, ready to pick me up. I quickly replied no. Because I was going to need to get used to doing things on my own again.