4 September 2012

So it's only one scene, but it's an average length and kind of a breath of fresh air after the last part ':).

*Justin's POV* When Drew woke up, it was definitely some sort of miracle; a blessing from God. She didn't really speak, and she couldn't move without paying the price of pain, but she was awake. That's all I needed. As long as she was alive, and breathing, I could accept it. Slowly but surely, she came back to reality, seeming more like herself with each hour of consciousness that passed. She'd become a little overwhelmed when both of our families had burst through the hospital doors, so the nurse had then said that only three visitors were allowed at a time. I was permanently one of those three. I pretty much refused to leave. The nurse would often ask if I wanted to go down to the cafeteria and eat something or have a drink, but I would decline the offer every time. I think she thought that if I starved myself any longer, I'd be in the hospital for a different reason than I am now. I sat in silence beside the hospital bed, trying not to stare at the fresh wounds of Drew's wrists and arms. Every time I steal a glance, it's like a punch in the chest. I keep doing it, each time thinking that maybe I'll look and not feel guilty. Never, not once, did I look and feel okay. I sighed deeply, reaching across the bed to take Drew's sleeping hand in mine. I fumbled with her fingers, the memory of crimson red blood dripping from the tip of them haunting my mind. I shook it off, focusing on a different part of her body. Her beautiful face. She was like a fallen angel or something heavenly like that. Drew herself is a blessing. And then another memory, her once-tanned face pale and lifeless, expressionless on the bathroom floor. I once again, shook off the thought, and averted my gaze to her small frame, fragile and dressed in one of those blue dotted hospital gowns. The blood had been washed clean from her body, her hair. She had been laying in a pool of her own blood, running and rolling down her skin, her small tanned frame a picture of horror. That's it. I can't cope with this right now. I stood abruptly, turning and beginning to storm out of the hospital room when: "You're leaving?". I spun back around, seeing that Drew was now sitting in an upright position, hands clasped in her cross-legged lap. The strip light shone down on her, casting a halo like silhouette above her head, red hair even more vibrant in the bright white light. I began to stutter at the nervousness of talking to her, unsure of what to say first. "U-uh, n-no, no I'm not. I was just um..." I babbled, making crazy hand gestures to accompany my words of uncertainty. She gave a gentle giggle, her voice rich and light at the same time. "You were just... Leaving?" she finished for me with a gentle laugh, and I knew she'd caught me out. "Uh, yeah" I sighed, making my way back over to her. "Oh, um, did you want me to go... Or?" I stuttered again, stopping in my tracks towards her bed. I wanted to stay now she was awake, but I wasn't so sure she felt the same way as me. She beckoned me with a gentle gesture, a soft wince being hidden at the pain of just lifting her hand. That's how much blood she lost. It hurts to move the places she cut. I shivered. I hate thinking that she cut herself. It would be a little more comforting if somebody else had cut her, even though that would be extremely terrible and I'd be crazy mad, at least I wouldn't find this so awkward. I didn't know whether to be really lovey-dovey, or angry, or neutral. I'm just awkward at the minute. "Come here" she smiled feebly, and I did as I was told, walking slowly over to the end of the bed. I'm even standing awkwardly. Luckily, Drew had a plan to completely take all traces of awkwardness out of this conversation. She made her way to the end of the bed, standing up on her knees to press her lips down on mine. I was immediately into it, my hands gripping her hips and pressing the warmth of her body to mine. It was so perfect to feel her like this, moving, breathing, her lips and tongue dancing with mine. It was deep, and passionate, the last time we kissed being outside the clinic. I moved my lips over hers with rough urgency, whereas Drew's approach was more graceful and loving. I just felt like I needed her right there. All of her. I needed to touch and hold every inch of her, just to make sure she wasn't some sort of illusion or daydream. But I could feel her; I could feel her hands running through my unmade hair, down my neck, shoulders, chest, abs. She was everywhere, and I couldn't focus on kissing her as my hands explored her with the same confidence and energy. Our lips became sort of a rough mess in the excitement and adrenaline of the situation, but we didn't really care. It was better than not kissing at all. I was so nervous. I have no idea why. I think maybe I was afraid to touch her in the wrong way, and cause her pain somehow. She seemed so fragile and weak beneath my fingers, as if she might shatter if my grip tightened enough. I've done so many things to hurt her. Emotionally, but physically also. I've done plenty of things a gentleman would never do, and I do class myself as a gentleman. I don't think I can label myself as that anymore. I have to earn it all over again. When my over-whelming kiss became too much, Drew pulled back and took in a well-needed breath. I think I'd been smothering her a bit. At least I was smothering her with affection, and nothing bad. She seemed too pale, and too weak. And then she was falling, backwards onto the bed, her eyes rolling in dizziness. I caught her just in time, snatching her into my chest and holding her up on her knees. "Drew, I'm so sorry" I breathed into her neck, her head tucked over my shoulder. "It's my fault, it's all my fault" I was unaware that I was beginning to babble nonsense, and just smother her in every apology possible. "I'm sorry, I love you so much and I shouldn't have ignored you, I was just upset about our baby, and I just needed somebody to take it out on-". The truth was pouring out of me like blood had of Drew, spilling out in breathy words of emotion. "It's ok, I know, I shouldn't have been so drastic about it, It's ok" she tried to calm me with words portrayed in a soft, soothing tone. I kept going for a while longer. "You're the most important thing in the world to me Drew, and I'm begging you, do not ever do something like that again. You almost died. I can't live without you Drew". I'm such a man. Let's pretend I'm not crying my eyes out into her shoulder. She's the one holding me together, and it's meant to be the other way around. I guess I just had a lot of things to be sorry for. When we pulled back (And I had gathered my emotions enough to stop crying like a total girl), Drew sat back down on the bed, and I sat beside her. I listened to the sound of her heartbeat, and the comforting in and out of her gently paced breathing. It was just nice to sit beside her, and hold her hand, feel her pulse. It was a breath of fresh air to feel her body moving, the blood running through her veins instead of rushing out onto the floor. She was alive, and perfect. Just seeing her move sent a rush of joy and adrenaline through me. I couldn't wait to take her home. I didn't even want to be here, in this setting anymore. All we needed now was to be back at the lodge, snuggled up by the fire with some fondue and a romantic movie, the perfect christmas present I had for her ready to be unveiled. It was going to make up for everything, I just knew it.

DrewTexasTexas Girl (Pt 67) • Opuss № I