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Silver Tears Ch.3
The Next Morning:
“S***!” she exclaimed, rubbing the back of her head.
“You ok?” Ayden called from the kitchen.
“Yeah, just fell off the couch.” She laughed. She heard a low chuckle coming from the kitchen. She leaned on the couch for support and pulled herself up from the floor. She ruffled a hand through her hair, shaking bits of glittery club confetti out of her hair as she walked into the kitchen.
“So, umm, how drunk was I?” she asked as she hopped up on a counter next to him. He smiled to himself as he pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge.
“Well, you were falling down. You feel asleep pretty quickly though.” He opened the bottle and handed it to her. She took a sip and stared down at the bottle thoughtfully.
“So why did you stay?” she asked, still looking down at the bottle.
“Because you asked me to.” He responded nonchalantly. She drained the bottle and tossed it into the trashcan across the room before she spoke again.
“Only because I asked?” she questioned, looking straight at him. He sat on the free space next to her and thought for a moment.
“I would’ve stayed anyways.” He said quietly. She leaned over and wrapped her arms around his ribs, tucking her head under his chin. He returned the embrace, sliding his arms around her shoulders and leaning his cheek on the top of her head.
“Thanks.” she whispered into his shirt. He sighed audibly and released her before jumping down from the counter. He walked into the huge bedroom at the other end of the room and returned with her suitcase in hand.
“Hey, I may not have re-packed everything yet.” She chided.
“You never un-pack anything though.” He replied dryly. She nodded in agreement.
“You know me so well.” She said as she slid off the smooth marble counter. She sauntered up to him and put her hand on the suitcase, attempting to take it back from him.
“I should, considering I’ve known you nearly all our lives.” He said as he tightened his grip on the suitcase.
“True.” She admitted. “So, since you know me so well, why do you stick around?” she inquired. He smirked a little at her question.
“Silver, you’re my best friend. Ever since we were little you have been my best friend.” She could feel the honesty bleeding through his voice. She smiled, and hugged him again.
“Thanks Ayden. You’re my best friend too.” She meant it from the very bottom of her heart. He was the one who took her in after everything went down. He saved her from the streets and her past.
“What?” he asked as he pulled away. She looked up at his concerned face, thanking her lucky stars that she found him.
“Just thinking about things.” She said. He gave her a questioning look, but then a look of understanding passed over his face.
“Hey,” he tilted her face up to look at him, “that’s over. You’re safe now. I promise you that you never have to be there ever again.” He reassured. She smiled up at him in appreciation. He turned to the door and held it open for her, waiting for her to walk out into the hall. She slid past him and went to summon the elevator.
“Where’s your bag?” she inquired as he closed the hotel room door behind him.
“I put it on the bus this morning before you woke up.” He said as he walked up to her. She nodded and turned her attention to the elevator. She heaved a sigh of relief that the horrid man from yesterday was not present when the doors opened. They stepped on the elevator soundlessly and asked the current operator to take them to the lobby.
“Ready to be stuck on the bus with three stinky boys?” he asked brightly. He flinched slightly as she leaned in and sniffed delicately.
“You always smell good,” she paused for a moment, “but I’m not too sure about the other two?” she said, wrinkling her nose. He snorted and rolled his eyes at her comment. The elevator stopped at the lobby and the doors dinged as they opened. Ayden let Silver pass, following after her. Older people gave her incredulous and disgusted looks as she passed them and headed out the door. The giant tour bus had been parked outside the hotel, with the band’s logo emblazoned in black, silver, and red on the sides of it. Fans chattered eagerly under the high windows and around the doors screaming at Adriane and Jason, pleading for autographs. Silver slid her sunglasses over her eyes and braved the crowd with Ayden at her side, thankful that she wasn’t alone to deal with this mess. Her ears rang with shrieks from exuberant fans as she pushed through to the bus doors. Girls tugged on Ayden’s shirt nearly ripping it apart as he waded through the group, following her closely behind. The bus doors whooshed open and the pair scrambled onto the bus quickly. Ayden tossed her suitcase in an overhead compartment and breathed a sigh of relief as the bus driver pulled away from the hotel front. Silver looked at the tattered remnants of his shirt and stifled a laugh.
“Looks like the can’t get enough of you.” She chuckled as he clutched the shredded bits that hung on his shoulders.
“D*mn, this was my favorite shirt.” He sighed. He pulled the tattered shirt over his head and tossed the mess into a corner near the trash can. She sucked in a breath, marveling at the smooth musculature of his torso and biceps. He had a body most guys would kill for and girls would give their left arms to touch for just a few moments. He turned away from her and reached up to another overhead compartment. She watched the muscles in his back and shoulders work as he pulled his suitcase down, and then she saw the scar. It was an angry white line than ran the length of his right shoulder blade. She had been there when he had gotten it and had been the one to hold his hand when the E.R. doctor stitched it up. Growing up in the projects, you always came back with scars, be they self inflicted or otherwise. He yanked the first t-shirt he came across and yanked it over his head, covering the scar. She snapped back to reality and realized she had been tracing the scars the crisscrossed up her own arm; although she had not been the one to put all of them there. Her mother had a weird sense of punishment, some that ended up nearly deadly. She was thankful her ink covered up most of the scars that stayed as constant reminders of her past; sadly, this past kept creeping up on her and getting in her face. A hand covered her wrist where the filigree clumped to cover the deepest cuts and she looked up to see Ayden looking down at her with a deep sadness in his eyes.
“Thanks.” She whispered.
“This is in the past. It’s gone forever.” He said, cupping her chin in his hand.
“The scars are still there, though. That part will never go away.” She looked down at the scars, jagged and thick in some places but thinner and straight in others, depending on how drunk her mom was when she came home that night. He ran his thumb over the worst scar that landed her in the psyche ward of the hospital after her mother dumped her, bleeding and cold, on the sidewalk. She pulled her arm away from him and moved to the couch that stretched out under the window. She wrapped her arms around her knees and sat perched on the arm of the couch, staring out the window at passing cars. She leaned her head against the cool glass and closed her eyes, grateful that the cold helped to ease her hangover headache. She felt herself slide onto the couch as she drifted in and out of sleep as the bus chugged along the highway. She felt a blanket being tucked under her chin, but that was the last thing she remembered of the waking world. She drifted under the gray and blue waters of semi-consciousness, drifting farther into the black, tumultuous undertow of her subconscious. They dragged her down by the ankles without resistance, closer to the locked door of memories she’d rather forget.