"She's hurt, man…" his words were soft, pleading beyond belief. Honestly, he was scared out of his mind. He was scared for his own life, and he was even more scared for the life in his arms; the straight haired blonde who had already faced this reality, the reality of having a gun pointing at you and not knowing what to do. The reality knowing that your death was no longer an event in the future. The reality that a simple pull of that single trigger could mean the end of anything you ever had planned for your life. "If I don't get her out of here soon, she's going to die." Peyton was the reason he wasn't already shot.
"You two get out of here…now," Keith appeared around the corner, pointing at the two teenagers standing by the broken glassed door. A look of confusion and thanks crossed the young boy's face. "Go." He stood in front of the two, blocking any chance of a bullet slicing through the air into them. He followed them to the corner, until he knew there was no chance of them being injured more than they already had been. "You don't want to do this…" his voice was solemn toward the one person who could decide whether he lived or died. "Put the gun down…Lucas."
I
can barely breathe.
Cause I'm caught in suspension.
It could've easily been anyone else. Jimmy. He was just like the rest of us, trying to find his way, just not succeeding. Or giving up hope of succeeding, ending a never-ending battle of belonging. A never-ending battle of time. He snapped out of his daydream, hearing a knock at his door.
"Hi…" the blonde turned his head toward his bedroom door, seeing Peyton standing on crutches. Dressed in his tuxedo, he remained seated on his bed, silence overcoming the two of them now. She slowly made her way fully into his bedroom, her crutches tucked securely under her arms.
"You were released today?" Great timing, he thought to himself.
"Yeah, I just came from the hospital actually, and I wanted to see how you were doin-"
"How do you think I'm doing!" He cut her off, startling her a bit with his voice which was harsh and cold. His eyes, eyes which were always full of emotion or light, now dull, the color seeming to fade out of them. "Peyt, I'm sorry, I shouldn't snap at you."
"Luke, it's okay, you don't have to explain anything to me, alright?" He nodded slowly, thanking her without words. "I know how easy it is to push people away, I do…" her voice was trailing off slowly. "Just know…that I'm here for you, Luke, I am, whenever you need it, no questions asked. Even if you don't want to say anything." She looked down at her crutches before beginning to turn around to leave.
"Peyton…" She turned to face him, finally seeing his eyes tear. "Could…um, could you go with me?"
For the first time, she saw the pain in his eyes. For the first time, it was him who needed help, and it was her who could help. She was the only one who could. She may have not known exactly what he was going through, but she knew what and what not to say. Slowly, she made her way toward him, extending her hand out to his once she reached him. "You don't even have to ask…" she felt his hand take hers in his own, giving it a light squeeze before standing up next to her. "Is Brooke coming?"
"I don't know, I haven't talked to her lately," he answered honestly. She was surprised at his answer, usually, Brooke would try to do too much, too soon. "I've kind of been avoiding her calls…"
"Just as long as you know that a lot of people care about you okay?" Their hands remained intertwined as she looked at him directly. "We may not know how you feel, but you're not alone in this, neither is your mom."
"Thanks, Peyton…"
"Don't thank me. I'm just being a friend." She answered with a smile crossing her face.
"No, you're not." She looked back up at him, sort of confused. "You don't know how much this means to me…"
She erased her look of confusion off of her face, replacing it once again with another smile. Reaching her arms up, they hooked around his neck slowly, his doing the same around her waist. His head rested against her shoulder softly as she played with the tips of his hair with her fingertips. He held onto her tightly, her laying her crutches onto his bed. "We should get going," she whispered into his ear. "Your mom's already there right?" He nodded before handing her the crutches, holding her waist gently as she situated herself. "Thanks…"
"Don't thank me. I'm just being a friend…" he mocked her jokingly, the first smile she's seen all day cross his face.
