Her, To Home

She couldn’t breathe, she wanted to but she couldn’t. Or was it that she could finally breathe? Had she finally found her breath after two years? Did she even know what breathing was like? She has not breathed properly for so long now. The feeling of cool air through the nose, passing along the throat and into the lungs; yes, this was what she felt, alive.

She was breathing again and it was all because of him and yet the pain which followed hit her with so much force that it left her frozen and probably scarred for life. But then, she was scared for two years now, how could another one hurt? But it did, it hurt hard and bad. Wasn’t it enough that she dealt with the pain once that she had to experience it all over again? The wounds were still fresh, did he had to come now? Couldn’t he wait, maybe ten, twenty…. lifetime?

They told her she is better off without him, no more getting in trouble, no more greeting the sight of blood, no more fear of angering him, no more over possessiveness and no more injuries. She told them they were right, she was better off.

She lied.

She didn’t tell them that she actually loved getting in trouble with him or because of him because she knew he would do anything to make it up to her. They didn’t know how it felt when every time he was injured, he’ll call her to fix him because she was the only one he trusted with his body. How would they have known that she found his anger calming and his possessiveness, adorable. She liked when he used to give her a full account of boys which ask her out, telling their great grandfather name to the last meal they had, baring their flaws in front of her, in those times she played with the idea of him becoming a lawyer because she knew he would be good at it.

And finally, the million injuries she had because of him, nobody knew that it used to kill him seeing her bleed. One time when she had broken her leg trying to help him up because he was injured, he had forgot his injury, shaken awake from his unconsciousness and had picked her up and raced her to the hospital.

They didn’t know anything.

She wondered for a second why she was defending him? Why she was even bothering to shield him and against herself, it was absurd. Maybe because in the back of her mind she knew he had to leave. The reasons, she didn’t know but he had to but what frustrated her was why he came back? She didn’t know whether to cry from happiness or pain that kept coming back.

The knock on her bedroom door pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Sara? Honey, June is here. She wants to see you.” Her mother voice called out.

“I want to be alone mum, just please.” She said softly.

“Okay, honey. I’ll leave the dinner outside the door.”

She heard her mother’s footstep fade away.

She wanted to sleep; her mind was tired, and exhausted but she didn’t know how to fall asleep. Her thought kept going back to the kiss, that stupid kiss. Why, oh why did he had to kiss her? They were best friends, almost like brother and sister, right?

Her mind went back to the times he had denied being her brother whenever someone hinted it or even said it. How he would harshly snap at anyone who would say he protects her like a big brother. She could almost hear his harsh voice as he snaps, “I am not her brother.”Text © owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

So maybe he was not her brother, for the love of God, the kiss was anything but sibling love but oh God, why did she keep coming back to the kiss? Can’t she just forget it? Dean have kissed millions of girls, literally. He just kissed her because, well he had reasons, she was sure. It didn’t mean anything, not to him so she can’t allow herself to feel anything either.

Dean was fuck and leave kind of guy; she didn’t want to be at the end of that statement.

She closed her eyes and pulled the blankets closer, making sure it swallowed her whole. As she tried to count the passing of seconds, sleep over powered her body and she fell deep into a slumber.

It was like a second had passed when she opened her eyes slowly. Her room was dark but she noticed the shadow over her immediately. She didn’t scream, his scent had surrounded the air like blanket, comforting her. As her eyes slowly adjust to the dark, she saw him staring right at her.

“Unless you have bloody wound for me to fix, leave.” She whispered. Her voice not as firm as she wanted.

She couldn’t help it. She wanted to sound normal but yet even she could hear the bitterness in her own voice, betraying her emotions.

“I didn’t always come so you could fix my wounds, O’Brian.” His quiet voice was hard, emotionless.

He sat beside her legs at the end of the bed.

Sara heart did a flip when she heard him say her O’Brian. She had missed that more than anyone could imagine. She was always O’Brian to him and when she asked him why, he used to say she’ll find out soon enough.

“No, sometimes you used to come when your parents kicked you out too.” She said softly.

Where was the Sara who was just defending him? Protecting him from everyone’s thoughts? Where was the Sara who was just conflicting with herself that he may had reasons? Even she knew what she was saying was a lie. He was always here. He liked sleeping with her, in her bed. He used to sneak into her room almost every night so why was she suddenly so bitter? Maybe because when he left, he forgot about her? Maybe because the fact that he kissed her when he had kissed so many girls? Or maybe it was both, she was bitter and angry and hurt.

“You know as well as I do that it is not true.”

“Then what is Dean?” She asked, not expecting an answer which she knew he will not give. When he said he never lies to her, it was the truth, he doesn’t but he had a way of telling the truth. It was the truth but never whole, never what she had actually asked.

“Dean?” Even she could hear the harsh edge in his voice.

She has never called him Dean, it wasn’t that he wanted her to call him Wood, he hated that she called him Wood but she knew, he was angrier that she called him Dean.

“Do you even have a right to be angry with my reaction?” She asked while trying to see the black of his eyes through the small light which was coming through the window but they were shadowed, just like his expressions.

“No.”

“Was it something I did?” She couldn’t help but ask.

“What?”

“I’m asking if you left the way you did because of something I did, said? Was I too clingy? Childish? Dramatic? Emo—–”

She was interrupted when his lips touched hers once again, with the same force as before.

Once again, she felt her body on fire, burning with something which was not even painful but addicting, calming. Her lungs betrayed her once again as they refuse to do their damn job and supply her with oxygen. The heat creeped up on her cheeks as she closed her eyes and tried to put her mind back together but she didn’t have to because he pulled away but didn’t lean back.

As his warm breath hit her face, as she stared at him with wide eyes and mouth open slightly, he said, no, he warned, “O’Brian, you have no idea what you are talking about. I advise you to keep that pretty little mouth of yours shut about yourself or else I have other ways to make you see what you do.”

She didn’t know what he meant by that so she just snaps her mouth shut and nodded slightly. His eyes went to her lips again and then back to her eyes. He brushed his fingers against her cheek and leaned back, putting his hand on her racing pulse on her throat.

Her heart went wild.

“Did you go to see Oliver and Diana yet?” She asked, trying to distract herself.

“No.”

“You are telling me that you have been here 24 hours and you have yet to meet your parents?”

“Yes, and I only arrived this morning.”

“And came straight to school?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“What else can be the reason other than the obvious, O’Brian?”

See, that why she hates this guy, he just expects her to know everything without even bothering to tell her and if by any chance she asked what he means he would give her the look which clearly made her feel like a dumb blond.

“Cafeteria food?” She asked.

His quiet laugh shook the bed and maybe turned her inside into jelly as well. Another of many things she had missed and it hurt, bad. Dean didn’t laugh much but when he did, she was always just listening to it, sealing it in memory.

“You haven’t changed, O’Brian.”

“I have gotten taller!” She couldn’t help but sound defensive.

“Yes, it’s a pity.”

“Your whole existence is a pity!”

“You still suck at insulting.”

“You suck whole together!”

“What are you? Five?”

“Seventeen and a half, you would know if you were around.”