Trading Pieces of Sky [COMPLETED]

25

I carefully removed my bra and underwear and replaced them with a dry pair. I wrapped my body in the towel and walked back down the hall into his room, closing the door.

Being in his room again left a sickening feeling in my stomach. I realized the gravity of the situation that I was now in. There was no way I could trust him not to go sharing my secrets. Especially when I didn't even know why he was being so nice to me and making me stay in his home. What did he have to gain from this situation?

I noticed that he had the picture of us on his desk that I had given him for his birthday.

I wanted to throw up. How could he have this photo framed on his desk when he told me that I meant nothing to him?

I was startled by Beckett opening the bedroom door and I quickly stepped back from his desk. I watched as he placed a first aid kit on his dresser. He didn't address me, simply went into his closet and returned with a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve shirt.

"Come here," he said softly, as he motioned to the edge of the bed.

I sat down and he kneeled in front of me, opening a package of gauze. I watched as he gently placed several strips onto the gashes before taping them down. His soft touch was starting a fire inside of me that I wanted to put out.

He stood up and crumbled the wrappers in his hand.

I quickly stepped into the sweats and pulled them on without disturbing the bandages. He busied himself by picking up some clothes that were on the floor while I finished dressing.

I stood there awkwardly, not knowing what I was supposed to do now. I felt like I had no control left. I waited for him to give me instructions, just like I waited for EJ.

"You can get in bed. My dad is on his way home. He'll take a look at your...cuts."

"The remote is on the side table," he added, noticing I hadn't moved.

I hesitantly sat down on the edge of the bed where I had slept last night, making my legs throb. I had to admit that the pain felt good. Especially when the rest of me felt numb.

I adjusted the pillows so that I could sit up and swung my legs onto the bed.

"You should put a pillow beneath your legs, to elevate them," he said as he sat on his side of the bed.

I grimaced as I did what he said and after he had removed his shoes, he climbed into the bed next to me.

I tried to ignore his presence and turned on the TV. I flipped through the channels and decided to leave it on a rerun of a Friends episode.

"Hey," he paused to clear his throat, "I just want to say that I'm here if you want to talk or anything."

I clenched my jaw, staring at the tv.

"I'm sorry you're hurting," he said softly after a few moments.

I scoffed at his pity, shaking my head.

"Why do you do that? Why can't you just accept that I care?" he asked upset.

His back and forth was giving me whiplash. How was I expected to trust that he actually cared, when he betrayed me so cold-heartedly?

"Why would I? You haven't exactly shown me otherwise. What with the whole slut-shaming thing..." I trailed off and tried to focus on the commercial that was playing.

"What slut-shaming? I've never called you that, once," he asked perplexed.

"You're fucking kidding me right?" I laughed with disbelief.