The sentence seemed to drip and ooze out of my best friend's mouth.
I was confused and yet so sure. So very sure.
But I had to make sure.
With: "From...him?"
I was staring down at John and how vulnerable he was on the bed. How without my shades my eyes told the story of my thoughts and more.
"Er...I guess?" John blushed a bit deeper, glancing away.
"Oh wow." I said in fake wonder, not sure how to deal with this.
"Can you...?" John squeaked out.
"Oh..." I trailed off.
The next second I realized what he really meant. It was like a jolt of electricity hit me. And I reacted by jumping up and away.
But inside I was embarrassed.
"Sorry-! I didn't mean to...for so long. I was just...like I used to...with others." I tried to explain, scratching my neck.
I cleared my throat, scooting away while John sat up.
John rubbed both his wrists with a faint smile.
"It's fine. I guess we have to practice wrestling to do that better...or do some other...exercise. You know. You really have never taken me up on that deal Dave."
"Oh." I nodded, "I didn't mean to I just have been...doing things."
I did nothing all day.
We both knew this.
There was an awkward silence for a couple of seconds.
"Welp." I said, trying to get us off track, "Let's go open that package!"
All my nerves were tingling, and I hadn't eaten dinner or breakfast yet, so my body felt light as hell.
"Ok!" John jumped up whilst exclaiming; "Wait- Lemme go get my special box cutter!"
I scoffed, "A special one?"
"Of course!" He smiled and ran out of the room to his horror of a room.
I stood up from my bed and looked at myself in the mirror.
At myself.
My eyes.
My skin.
Did not wearing my glasses really change that much about me? Is that why John felt uncomfortable me pinning him or that Bro told me to keep up the 'shade wearing' because I had to keep it hidden? Was that it?
I knew it had to do with my eyes.
I sighed, messing up my overgrown blonde hair on purpose and sauntered out of the guest...I meant my room. My bedroom.
With no shades.
The square box was sitting in the living room on the coffee table in front of the fireplace. I sat on the couch, wanting to open it and also, I wanted to wait to make fun of John's lame box cutter. Even if he smiled over it like it was the best thing in the world then laugh like it was a very funny joke.
He always laughed more than I ever did.
"This is a mistake." I voiced aloud.
Where...did that come from?
Fuck. I almost said that in John's hearing range.
Was all this guilt getting to me or was it the fact that I was going crazy by the thought of him being alive? John or Bro? Bro or John? Where did my loyalties lie?
Before my thoughts could cause me a mental breakdown or more; John came in holding a metal object that resembled a rectangle more than a box cutter.
"Is that...?"
"It's vintage!"
"Nice." I commented.
What I expected is not what I got in terms of his box cutter...plus there was the thoughts of Bro kept my mind busy, so anymore provoking words were sucked from me.
"Ok." I breathed in shakily, "Do it."
John nodded solemnly and made the first cut. It took a little more wrist than I thought but the whole encounter set my heart pounding. My arm seemed to have a phantom pain though it as it was the day of the accident. I breathed in, gasping.
"Shit." I said, looking inside the box.
I couldn't believe it.
A/N: I was looking at the stats for this story and I was like "oh...maybe i can and should update it". SO here i am with a small update and thank you so so so much for reading!
