When Nadia Marsh; a cheerful and popular ice skater, is overtaken by a mystery illness, everything changes.
When everyone around her is training for sectionals; Nadia is house bound, where even the smallest effort leaves her feeling exhausted.
Getti...
"Do you think I've gone blind? I know it's not the truth when you say, "I'm fine."
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
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THIS IS PART TWO OF THE DOUBLE UPDATE SO PLEASE READ CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE BEFORE THIS ONE!
COREY'S POV:
I arrive at the Marsh household and thank God that Nadia's car is the only one on the driveway. Willem's parents had a spare key made for me as they somewhat know what my home life is like and they wanted me to be able to come around if I ever needed anything, no matter the time of day, or night.
I open the door and close it quietly, not wanting to wake or startle Nadia. I get a glass of water and a packet of crisps for Nadia in case she's thirsty and peckish. I make my way upstairs, all whilst trying not to make a sound. I hate how sneaky I'm being, it's kind of weird and creepy but I am here with good intentions, I want to be here to support her. But I'm mainly doing this for Willem to give him a break, of course.
As I get closer to her room I hear classical music playing from her room, it must be something that helps her sleep better when she's in pain. I make it to her half open door expecting to find her fast asleep in bed, only to be met with her back as she hunches over her desk.
I look at the way she is slouched, visibly seeing that she is in pain as she is doing what she's doing and I lean against the door frame, angling my head to the side to get a better view of her desk. I see a small canvas with what looks like space on it and she lifts up a new paintbrush and she starts to paint in black this time.
I decide not to disturb her and instead just watch her as she works. She isn't good with voicing her thoughts and has always used creativity as an outlet to get her feelings out so I know for a fact that's what's occurring right now. I watch as the black paint forms a scruffy silhouette of what looks to be a figure skater in the galaxy. It took me longer than it should've to understand what it was as the edges of the outline are fraying slightly.
She blends the black silhouette into the galaxy, as if to say that the skating is being ripped away from her, going more invisible the longer she feels like this. I've never been one to understand paintings but her feelings are literally painted on a canvas for me to see.
I somehow forget that the crisp packet is in my hand and clench my fists together in anger for what she's going through, causing the packet to crinkle in my hand and I cringe as I see Nadia's whole body tense up at the sound.
"Fucks sake." I curse under my breath and Nadia unclenches her body and stretches her arms out, so she's covering her painting, hiding her vulnerability away from me once again.
We shared an intimate moment when we kissed, it was a kiss that felt like the eruption of stars and now she can't even barely look at me.
"I've already seen it, Dia." I admit, taking a step forward and as she hears my footsteps she swivels around in her chair.
"What is your fucking problem?" She hisses, arms flailing about in the air. "Why must you insist on butting your nose into everything that has absolutely nothing to do with you?"
"I'm only trying to help you." I say softly, holding my hands up to show her that she can trust me. The girl has a short fuse, her emotions will boil over at any little thing so I need to show her it's okay.
"I think you need to realise that I don't need your help. Now go home." She orders, turning around again.
"No, you said you needed someone so I'm here." I take a step forward again, dropping the crisp packet on the bed and putting the glass of water on her dresser.
"I didn't say I needed someone, I said I needed my brother and I sent that text to him, not you." She says through gritted teeth.
"Okay fair enough but he left his phone unattended and I saw the text so I thought I could come instead, give him a little break." I explain, sitting on the edge of her bed next to the packet of crisps and opening the packet, putting one in my mouth.
"So you thought you would weasel your way into something that is between my brother and I. I don't want you here, Corey, go home." She sighs, detaching herself away from me even more.
"You don't want me here, or you don't want to want me here?" I suggest, an accidental smirk growing on my lips.
"Just fuck off and tell Willem to reply to my text whilst you're at it." She huffs out, standing up to get the packet of crisps only to sit down again.
'I can't do that." I say, running my hands over the small amount of stubble on my chin. I really need to shave for the game this weekend.
"And why the fuck not?" She questions, flipping her hair so that it's falling over her other shoulder and I can't help but stare at the action. She glares at me when she notices my staring.
"I deleted the text." I admit.
She just stares at me for a few moments, looking at each of my eyes like she can't decide where to look before turning back around to face her painting.
"Penny for your thoughts?" I ask her after a few moments of silence and reach into my trouser pocket for a penny. She doesn't turn around to accept, she just holds her arm out behind her and I place the coin in her palm, closing her hand between my own.
Her hands feel so small in my own, like she can be crushed with just the force of me clenching my fists. It should terrify me how fragile she feels but instead as I hold her hand between mine, I feel all the words passing through us through the intertwining of our fingers.
"What I'm thinking now is that I hate you." Nadia states, then puts a few crisps into her mouth.
"You could never hate me." I assert and she throws the crisp packet at me but the rest of them just fall on the floor and I just laugh at the action, earning a small smile from her.
"I'm still mad at you. You had no right to delete that text, he's my brother." She tells me and I nod my head in agreement. It was wrong of me, I get that. It's just that I tend to get in the moment and think irrationally and it ends up biting me in the arse.
"I know, but he was high and he couldn't have been there for you fully right now." I admit to her, her shoulders slouching more at this.
"He needs a break from me." She says glumly, tears forming in her eyes.
"Why are you painting it like that anyway?" I ask her, trying to stir the conversation away from me being a dickhead.
" I just am." She responds, shrugging her shoulders.
"Don't give me that shit, open your heart to me." I tell her, getting up and walking behind her so that I can see her painting clearly.
"Art and love are the same thing you know, Corey?" She claims, observing her artwork. I squint at her because I have no idea what she could possibly mean by that. "They are both the strongest forms of hope."
"How?"
"Painting things helps me to hope that it's real, it's the same with love. It just never is," She vocalises. "I decided to paint this because it's my dream. But like this, my dream can stay in the stars and never die." She admits, looking down in thought.
"You really feel like it's over for you?" I ask her, and she nods sadly, causing a funny feeling to rise in my chest.
