Chapter 83: Chapter 83

Chapter 83 You've been crying

His voice completed the storm around us, for it sounded like thunder. His eyes were glossy, looking wet and glittered like the rain drops that momentarily catch on the light before darkening when it collides with the shaded pavement below.

He was close. So close to me now, looking into my eyes as he squatted down in front of me. His eyebrows furrowed together as he looked at my face, and he surprised me when he gently swiped the pad of my thumb under my eyes.

"You've been crying." He states.

"Those are just raindrops." I say, looking away from him and locking my arms tighter around my legs. My voice betrays me, though, because it cracks and sounds scratchy.

Clear evidence that I have, in fact, been crying.

His presence brings the smell cigarette smoke and leather. Bad memories are acquainted with the smell of cigarette smoke, and I shudder.

He seems to not know how to react. I guess it would be hard to know how to deal with these kinds of situations when he's not very outwardly compassionate.

He sighs and stands up, straightening out his jacket and looking down the street in the direction I had come from. I glance up through my heavy lashes and watch as he cages the small, flicker of a flame with his palm. He shields it from the wind and the rain and lights a cigarette.

"You're far from home." He says, his voice deep and monotone.

I don't answer, instead, I just sit on the frigid payment and try to hide the fact that my shivers are becoming violent and are chilling me to the bone. Colton looks relatively dry, telling me that he has shelter - or has found shelter somewhere near here.

His back faces me now, and his head looks like it is hung low. His hair looks darker due to the fact that it slightly wet, and it is messy from the hoodie that he always desperately clings to.

The smell of his cigarette is diluted from the scent of the rain falling around us, and I breathe in the fresh, slightly tainted and cold air. The cigarette smoke follows the direction of the wind and I watch as it swirls, fading off into the wind as quickly as it was born.

It reminds me how life is short. A vapor in the wind is all we are, easily crushed and discarded when the time on the clock runs out.

Silence cocoons the both of us as we listen to the lullaby the storm sings. The gentle hum of the distant freeway, the swaying of the little maple trees that line the sidewalk, the buzzing of an old, flickering light-bulb that belongs to the streetlamp.

All those sounds and more drags me deeper into the realm of thoughts, and I can only assume that Colton is as lost in thought as I am. Buried thoughts that will never see the light of day. Unspoken words that our lips are too afraid to speak. Dark memories that we wish could be forgotten.

We are two broken people in the world, trying to find our way. We are different, but we are not. We are opposites, but we are not. We are alive, but we are not. Words fill our minds, yet we are unable to speak.

We have so much in common and yet, we struggle to relate. He acts like he isn't bothered by anything, like he's strong and can handle anything.

But if he's anything like me, he has his true self buried deep within the depths of his heart.

And neither of us trust each other enough to share what's really on our minds - What's really wrong with us, and what torments us, what breaks us. Why? Because it puts us in a vulnerable position.

How is one supposed to reveal their vulnerability after they've been hurt too many times?

"It wasn't easy, was it?" He asks, turning slowly and facing me with a stoic face.

I look up at him, searching his face for clues. He glances a sideways glance at me, examining my reaction before turning his attention back to his cigarette. He inhales before blowing a puff out through his lips.

"Back there.....I saw the arrests of those men." He spits bitterly. His free hand clenches into a fist and his knuckles turn white.

So he did see what happened.

So he was following me.

I sigh, running a hand down my face. "No, it wasn't easy. I....went to the police station and reported them after you had....told me that you were-"

"Don't finish that sentence." He hushes me, now unable to look me in the eyes.

He turns his back on me once more. I know he feels ashamed, and I know he has his triggers just as I do, and I want to be careful not to traumatize him anymore than he already is.

My heart yearns to comfort him, to comfort myself, so I climb to my feet and approach him. I reach out to touch him, but he shrinks away. "Don't touch me." He whispers.

"Colton-"

"Thank you." His voice cuts me off, and his words are so unexpected that they hang in the air, echoing around in my ears repeatedly. The rhythm of the rain has turned into a slower beat, making his words sound louder than they were before.

"What?" I ask, not sure if I heard well. He whips around so fast, I stumble back a few steps, looking him in the eyes with a new interest.

His steps are quick, and in an instant, he's towering in front of me, looking down into my eyes and breathing heavily. I feel small, intimidated, and weak at his powerful stare, so I avoid eye contact and force my face to the ground.

His feet are so much bigger than mine and I become nervous. He's so much stronger than I am, and he can easily do whatever he wants to me.

And worst of all, he practically has me caged. I have nowhere to run if he decides to turn on me like a deadly predator.

He's just like them.

"Breathe." He says calmly, his thumbs climbing to the curve of my jaw and stroking. My world suddenly collides with reality and I take a deep breath.

When I finally do decide to look up at him, I see that his eyes don't look like soulless dark pits at the moment. His pupils are dilated and he looks down at me with what seems like interest.

"That's it....breathe." He coaxes, pulling a strand of hair that was stuck to my lips.

His eyes hold mine captive, making me feel weak. Eye contact is always uncomfortable but....eye contact with Colton was much different. He makes me feel things that makes my heart jittery and makes my mouth stutter.

And not only that, but his eyes, up close, don't look as empty as they normally do. This time, they look as if they could tell of all the inhumane, cruel stories that their owner has went through.

And it breaks my heart. Dammit, it breaks my heart that another being has been hurt to such an extent. And the fact that there's others like him shatters me. How many on this earth walk around us, who are like Colton? Who wander the streets with traumatizing memories, shattered hearts, a bleak future, and broken dreams?

And how many of them deal with their problems by involving themselves in dangerous activities, such as joining gangs? Often times, gangs become one violent "family."

So, how many gang members out there are completely broken? How many of them were abused as children, both sexually and physically? How many of them come from rough neighborhoods and violent, alcoholic parents?

The answer is too many. Too many of these children growing up in rough areas go down the wrong path that leads to death.

And I can only hope that Colton truly changes his ways before death meets him, too.

"Thank you." He repeats again.

"F-for what?" I ask.

He doesn't answer my question again, instead, he starts to pull his hoodie off over his head. He stands before me, in a dark grey T-shirt. My eyes travel to his thick arms, and when I see fresh, open wounds on the undersides of the flesh, I bite my tongue to stop me from gasping.

There are long, open red gashes and older scars alike. My heart aches because I know that these are self inflicted.

He catches me staring, his eyes turning back to their usual coldness, and I quickly avert my eyes. I feel ashamed for staring, but I couldn't help it. It's too worrisome to let it slide, but I don't know how to address the topic.

I feel a warmth enveloping my shoulders, and I am shocked to find that Colton has draped his hoodie around my shoulders. "Take my fucking hoodie." He mutters, his voice quiet and cold once again.

"You really don't have to do-"

"I'm trying to be nice here, just take it, alright?" He spits.

"B-But now you're going to be cold." I say, observing his reaction and watching his body language. I've noticed that he becomes irritable and angry really fast, and it frightens me.

"It's fine, I'm used to it."

I sigh and reluctantly put on his hoodie. It makes me feel guilty that I'm now drowning in warmth because he gave me his jacket, but I have a feeling he isn't going to let me win in this one.

"Follow me." He says, once I'm finished putting his hoodie on.

"What?"

He roles his eyes. "For fuck's sake, woman, are you illiterate tonight? I said follow me."

I suck my bottom lip in between my lip and follow him reluctantly. The sleeves of his dark hoodie flows way past my hands, and I'm practically drowning in it. I'm sure I look pretty comical at the moment.

"Where are you taking me?" I ask him.

No answer.

"Colton."

Still no answer.

"Colton?"

I sigh and decide to try again. "Colto-"

"You sound like a damn parrot." He says, irritation laced in his voice as he turns around and glares at me.

"Gee, I didn't know it was that hard to answer one question. I mean, it was quite a simple question, really."

His shoulders slump in defeat and he starts walking again. "I'm taking you home."

"But we're far from my apartment."

All around us, shadows dance and play with one another. The only source of light is coming from streetlights, and every once in awhile, when we would pass under them, I would steal a glimpse of Colton's hair as it shimmered under the soft, yellow halo of the streetlight.

I observed how the soft light hit the ground, wrapping a perfect circle of luster onto the wet pavement below. It looked serene, especially when the gentle patter of icy rain tapped the sidewalk below.

In the distance, I could see an object clothed in a silky silhouette leaning against a building. It looked large, and as we got closer, I could see that it was Colton's motorcycle.

He threw his leg over with no hesitation and started the bike, looking up at me with a bored look on his face.

"Are you going to stand there like a gaping fish out of water or are you going to get on?" He asks in a monotone sounding voice.

"I-I'm scared."

He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. "Of what?"

"T-that thing," I say, pointing a shaking finger at it, "What if I die?"

He shrugs. "If you die, then you're lucky."

"You're not helping."

"I'm not usually the type to do so." He says nonchalantly.

I'm cold. It's raining. I'm hungry. I'm tired. I just want to sleep. So, it looks like I have no choice but to get on the scary motorcycle with Colton.

I take a deep breath, and straddle the empty spot behind Colton. "Where do I put my hands?" I ask, knowing the answer but unsure of how he will react if I touch him.

He sighs. "Hold me."

"Huh?"

"For the love of all fucking things dark and evil, wrap your arms around my waist." He says impatiently.

I squeeze my eyes shut, slowly wrapping my arms around him securely, hoping that this isn't some sort of joke. I wait a moment, keeping my eyes sealed shut. When he doesn't react, I open my eyes. He hasn't thrown me off of him.....yet.

Without warning, he takes off into the night. I was nearly catapulted backwards off of the bike and I screamed. Colton glanced behind him and glared at me for a moment, before shaking his head and staring back in front of him.

His back was warm against me, and I clung on a little tighter to him. The raindrops felt like little stones against my face, and I hoped he didn't mind when I buried my face into the cloth of his shirt for protection.

His abs were solid, which made me want to check him out more than I already have. I felt embarrassed and shy about my own emotions, so I quickly shunned them away and turned back to more innocent thoughts.

My world blurred around me, everything was zooming by so fast. Trees melted into the ground and the wind tangled my hair and tossed it about in my face. I could feel the air clinging tightly to the cloth of my clothes and curling it about in its frigid fingers.

Colton's clothes rippled like a flag flapping about in the wind. Sitting this close to him, I could smell the strong smell of his masculine cologne. It seemed to have been trying to drown out the scent of cigarette and traces of alcohol, and once again, I felt a pang of hurt attack my heart when I think about what he does to himself.

"You can let go of me now." He says, clearly annoyed that I am still clinging to him like a child does to a stuffed animal. When I look up, I realize that I am back at my apartment and we are stopped.

"Oh, right, of c-course." I stutter, slowly unwrapping my arms from his waist and getting off the bike. I hesitantly turn to face him, and proceed to wave at him bashfully.

I mentally facepalm myself. That's not awkward at all.

He just rolls his eyes at me, being the kill-joy he is.

"Thank you for, uh....driving me back here. I really appreciate it."

His features soften and for a rare moment in time, his voice is sincere and gentle. "No, thank you, Lily, for bringing justice to the very men who have destroyed me as a person."

His eyes seem to twinkle under the darkness, and it makes me wonder that perhaps, he's becoming emotional. But before I have a chance to speak another word, the voice of the motorcycle drowns out the silence.

And then he is gone. I watch as he fades into the distance, the smell of gasoline assaulting my nose and the chill of the cold night's air nipping at my skin. Even when he becomes but a speck in the distance, my eyes never leave him.

Even when he disappears like a wraith, I am still enthralled with his existence.

And only one thought speaks louder than my subconscious. It drowns out the nagging voice instilled in my head by trauma and fear, and takes over all initial negative belief about most males.

He is not just like them.