Break On Me

"Maybe it's not about the happy ending.. Maybe it's about the story."

Sometimes it’s hard to accept what is, and it’s hard to go along with something even though you know you could do better.. But how come it’s so easy to slip up? So easy to say the wrong thing, use the wrong words, or even make the wrong moves? Sometimes we just all need to break.. in more ways than just mentally. I want you to know, that no matter what, I will always be here for you.. whether you like it or not, if you want me here or if you want me to live.. If you love me, or if you hate.. You can always break on me baby.

We loose ourselves in the things we love, we find ourselves there too..


28. Chapter 027

Quickly I used my index finger with help from my thumb to push a strand of hair behind my ear – my stomach soon continuing to empty itself into the toilet bowl. I didn’t want to wake up Harry, so I tried to be as quiet as I could. I’ve been in here nearly half an hour just throwing up the things I ate hours ago on the plane and before we left from Rio.
However, I didn’t question the reason why this was going on, I knew it good and well. It added onto my thoughts, worsening my depression for the night, that’s why I got sick. I get nauseous sometimes, and this was definitely one of those times.
My headache was horrible, my stomach was turning, my eyes even began to burn – so I put my glasses on hoping that would calm them down some, and usually they do. I could feel the aching of my bones, my own skin was irritating me, my back giving me stinging, sharp pains – my nose burning, my jaws aching from throwing up so much. I was a wreck.
A physical, mental wreck. And I know, I just know, I’m going to be fixed anytime soon.
Here it came again, that feeling of my stomach about to release itself again, that annoying first burp that leads to the puking, all ending in a sore throat. I hate getting sick, primarily in this way. I became unsure of what I was more upset over: being sick, or that letter I received in the mail.
That letter was not from some company, as I told Harry it was, but more like a person. Someone I honestly don’t know, someone I didn’t even know existed until I read the words written in ink on that piece of paper, that signature spelled out a name I had never even heard of before.. It all shocked me, worried me, mostly scared me.
I knew the person would be expected some type of reply, that’s one reason why they left their phone number I’m sure, and address and other kinds of contact. Of course I will have to respond to them – not right away, but soon enough I know.
Most likely I will never understand what I have been told recently through that letter, but I know that it won’t leave my mind. It distracted me from sleeping earlier, it’s distracting me now. Both which are signs that it won’t slip from my head very soon, it’ll be there for a while, a long while at that. Sometimes things stick to me, generally important and shocking things like this.
My thoughts about the frightful new information I was told was pushed aside from my mind as I emptied my system once again into the toilet. As I sat on my knees, my arms resting on the seat of the toilet, it was quit disgusting but I had no other way to go, my head held over the bowl I could feel every little discomfort I had at the moment, I felt nothing but pain, sorrow, misery, and grief..

I’m not really sure why I woke up, it was most likely the absence of someone’s sleeping body beside me, or my arms not being wrapped around a small, trembling body as they usually are, or my chest not being tickled by that long blonde hair that belonged to my beautiful girl. She was gone, she wasn’t beside me, she wasn’t in this bed. And I, well, I had no idea where she was – and  that’s what woke me, what scared me the most.
My hand grabbed the covers as I sat up. I throw them off me onto the other, empty, side of the bed. I sigh as I stand up and turn on the lamp, but just as I do so – my eyes catch the sight of a light beam across the room, my ears hearing a sound not too pleasant.
“Emmy.’’ I whisper to myself as I head over to the bathroom door, trying not to make too much noise, I didn’t want to scare her.
As I reached the door, I took a deep breath. I had somewhat of an idea that would explain to me was behind this door, but it still scared me to know she wasn’t okay, she isn’t feeling well. I tap my knuckles against the closed door, applying just a little force to it.
No reply.
I repeat my action, a tad louder this time, hoping to get some sort of response. The sound of her throwing up filled my ears – she was sick, and there wasn’t any more doubting of it either. A sigh slipped from my mouth as I wrap my hand around the door handle, praying that it wasn’t locked.
With hope, I twist the handle and gulp lightly as I find out it wasn’t locked. I slowly open the door, revealing the sight to my eyes. Emmy was indeed sick, and she didn’t look too well at all.
“Em? You alright, baby?” I ask as I slowly step into the bathroom, I know if I overacted she was get nervous and everything would get worse. So I tried to my very, very best to keep myself calm and steady at the moment – it was hard, but I tried for her sake.
I don’t say anything, mainly because I know there wouldn’t be a clear answer anytime soon, as I step behind her and gently pull her hair back, making sure it was out of her way. I heard her huff as she awaited the next release to come. I use one hand to hold her hair and the other to pull out the band that was holding some of it together. Softly, I gather her hair up and wrap the band around it a few times, making sure it was out of her way for the rest of the night.
My heartbeats become a little unsteady as I kneel down beside her, my hand on her back as I wait for her to speak to me, or at least gain the strength to look at me. I place my other hand on her thigh as I stare at the side of her face, her eyes closed, her lips parted slightly.
All I could hear was the sound of her uneven breathing, I could feel the coldness of her skin, the shakiness of her hands as she sat quietly, trying to keep herself put together. I knew her too well, she wasn’t trying to stop herself from crying, nor was she trying to keep quiet. She was just simply trying to act strong – for my sake. But I know, I honestly know, she just isn’t feeling well.
“Do.. do you..’’ I stop myself, releasing a heavy breath as I try to remain collected, I didn’t want her to know I was scared. I swallow the lump forming in my throat and just try to be the man I am, at least attempt to be.
“Do you want.. to talk?’’ I ask her in a soft tone, I didn’t want to rush her or upset her, I only wanted to make sure she knew I was here for her, I wasn’t going anywhere.
To my complete shock, not expecting anything at all to be given back to me, Emmy lightly shakes her head from side to side, only a few times before stopping, her eyes still closed, her breath still unsteadily flowing.
“Alright.. well, um.’’ I sigh to myself as I get my thoughts together. If she doesn’t want to talk, then we won’t. I refuse to push her to tell me anything, I know she’ll tell me soon because she knows I’m worried. But as of now, I know I must leave it alone and let her get to feeling better.
“Do you feel like.. you’ll get sick again?’’ I ask, my hand rubbing circles in the small of her back, I know she likes that.
Her shoulders shrug at my question, those eyes still closed. I just want to see her look at me, assure her that I’m here for her. A soft huff escapes from her hardly opened lips. I keep my gaze on her, searching for signs that might help ease my mind some, calm me down a little.
My mouth didn’t want this next question to leave, but I knew it would be good enough to just offer to her. She might want it to happen, she might not. There was nothing else to do other than ask.
“Um, do you.. do you want me to go?” The words left my mouth with a sting of pain, I didn’t want her reply to be yes, but if it was, then I would understand, I wouldn’t like it, but I’d completely accept it.
Do I fear the response? Yeah, completely. Sometimes we have to just go with stuff for the person we love, so they can be happy. I’d do anything to make this girl happy, any damn thing. I’d say anything, I’d listen to anything, I’d do literally anything I humanly, possibly could.. just to know she’s happy, that she’s okay.
Nearly two minutes had passed, the silence was killing me. I begin to figure that she’s ready for me to leave, so I go on and take my next move as I go to stand up. I jerk a little as I felt her tight grip around my wrist, my eyes trailing down to her still on her knees in the floor. My eyes find hers, finally I get to see those beautiful eyes..
“No.’’ She mumbles lightly, her eyes red, tear filled and puffy. “Don’t.. leave me. I don’t.. want you to.’’ She adds in softly, her voice cracking as she tries her best to stand up on her own.
I couldn’t resist to put my hand on her waist, my other grabbing her small hand as she let my wrist go. A sly smile came to my face as she balanced herself, staring down at her feet as she attempted to be stand straight up. Emmy releases a heavy sigh before leaning her forehead against my chest.
“Don’t leave.’’ She whispers against my skin as she locks her arms around my torso, holding herself tight against me.
My arms go around her too, my lips place a kiss against the top of her head. There was nothing I’d rather do than stay here and just hold her in my arms, forever.
“I’m not.’’ I whisper the words to her, knowing they will soothe her.  
Tell Me What You Lovelys Think?. I Am Working So Hard On This Book. ~Angie :)
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