Page 41 of Dollhouse

Hesitantly, I sit in the chair beside the bed, and Eli sits on the arm of the chair stroking my back gently.

“He can’t stand being in the same room as me, the only time we’ve spoken is when we’ve fought, and yet I was worried he was going to die.” I scoff, leaning my head against Eli’s side.

“I was worried he was going to die too. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost him or King, these fuckers are my only family.” He sighs and picks me up as if I weigh nothing. He slides down into the chair and holds me on his lap.

“Why does he hate me so much?”

“That’s his story to tell.” My eyebrows crease in confusion, and I turn my attention back to him.

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means exactly what I said. His reason for keeping you at arm’s length and being a dick is his reason, and his reason only to tell.”

“He called me Lee,” I gripe with a whisper, searching his eyes, hoping to find any piece of an answer.

“I know, and you’ll get your chance to talk to him.” He turns me around so my back is against his chest as he wraps his arms around my waist.

We sit there for hours, the only noise around us coming from the beeping from the monitors that Rowen is attached to.

His large body makes the small twin bed even smaller. I’d laugh if now were the time for that.

I can’t help but feel like this is all my fault. It is my fault.

Rowen was shot because of me.

* * *

I don’t remember fallingasleep, but when I come to, I’m on the chair alone.

The sun is up, and it’s only Rowen and I in the room. He’s still asleep, so like a creeper, I watch him. I stare at his flawless face.

Carefully I lean forward and take his hand, my fingertips tracing over the intricate tattoos that cover both of his arms.

I’m mindlessly tracing over the ink on his right inner forearm when I feel the raised skin underneath the ink.

With confusion, I carefully turn his arm toward me to examine it.

Scars.

He has scars inside both of his arms, scars that I instantly recognize because I’ve traced them before. I’ve traced them hundreds of times with my fingers and my tongue.

I sit back in the chair with a gasp, letting go of his arm as if he’d burned me. I cup my hands together over my mouth, my eyes wide and full of shock.

I’m a fucking idiot.

Rowen’s intense emerald eyes slowly flutter open and connect with mine. Several minutes pass by with us staring at each other before he finally speaks, “You weren’t supposed to come back. Why did you come back?” he whispers in a groggy voice, and instantly, I know exactly what he’s talking about.

A single tear rolls down my cheek as I stare at him in silence.

How could I not have seen it sooner? How could I not recognize him?

Those eyes, everything about him is the same.

Yeah, he’s older now than when I saw him last, but he’s not someone anyone could ever forget.

It’s been thirteen years since the night I last saw him, but he still looks the same, only older. And looking at him now, I can finally see it.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I whisper, allowing my tears to fall and stain my cheeks.

---