19 You Can't Heal in the Same Environment You Got Sick

Destiny

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When I opened the door, I wasn't expecting Sean to be on the other side. I knew he was coming over but with the charity event just around the corner, our little study session completely slipped my mind.

"Shocked to see me?" He asks, as his lips twitch upwards.

He gave off a pleasant aroma, it was subtle. Almost intoxicating. His hair came up to be a little damp but the sun did wonders for it. He was wearing a white t-shirt that hugged every inch of his muscular frame, along with some casual grey sweatpants. To top it all off he wore a pair of white air forces.

"I just— forgot," was all I could say. I was honest. "Your little friend sounds hungry," I point to his stomach with my eyes.

"Maybe a little," he shrugs.

Liar.

I waved as my mom's car disappeared behind the iron gates, before inviting Sean inside and leading him into the kitchen. I could hear his stomach growling from a mile away.

Funny.

Now that we're in the kitchen, he doesn't seem to be hungry at all. His stomach says so, but every other part of him says otherwise.

Loss of appetite?

I was going to give myself five minutes to change out of my humiliating outfit or at least touch up my hair, but how I look was now the least of my worries.

In the time being, I observed as Sean sat, picking at his food from the opposite side of the kitchen island. He hasn't taken a single bite. He was lost again. Lost in the depths of his mind and for once, I had a tiny clue why.

I saw the way he looked at my mom. There was so much grief and sadness. It left me wondering if something could've happened to his mom.

Should I pull him out?

Does he need me to?

I'll be subtle.

"Are you okay? I thought you were hungry," I question with a shrug. "I can switch out the food if you don't like it."

Great, now I might have made him feel bad.

On a second thought, he's Sean.

Of course I made him feel bad.

"No, it's great," he responds and I give him a weird look in return.

"But you haven't even taken a bite."

He drops his eyes down to the plate in front of him, mentally face palming himself as he rubs the back of his neck.

He tends to do that a lot.

Habit?

He gives me the tiniest, most apologetic smile and takes a spoonful, stuffing his face with the food. "Mmmm," he says, giving me a thumbs-up before his eyes go wide. "Mmmm," he repeats, more seriously as if the flavourful taste only hit him now. He takes another.

I laugh and take a spoonful of Nutella from the jar sitting in front of me. I've always loved mom's cooking, and it's nice to see other people enjoying it too. As of now, I'm really craving something sweet, and this baby, is really hitting the spot.

"Should you really be eating that?" Sean laughs, judging my choice in diet.

"Got a problem with my sweet cravings?" I scoff.

"Not until you down two whole jars. But for now, I see nothing."

"That was one time!" I shout in defense, crumpling up the paper towel that I had previously prepared for him, before throwing it at his face.

I was going through an emotional moment...

Jack died in the waters, knowing it was the only way he was going to save Rose, I mean come on! I had no time to pay attention to what I was consuming.

"You should get at this," Sean gestures, pointing to his plate with a spoon.

"Mom and her recipes," I shrug. "She loves cooking."

Should I push it?

Too late, here I go.

"I'm sure every mom does. What about yours?"

I cringe at my forwardness. It's none of my business but in a way, it already is. I made it mine when I took it upon myself to keep his little secret. I'm not stupid. I know for a fact that he hasn't told anyone anything. Or at least anything relevant.

I might not know even just the surface of Sean's pain like the guys do, but I know enough to see that it's a burden. And I've read a lifetime of quotes to know that you can't heal in the same environment you got sick. Every day that I've spent with Sean, I've been patient. I was there as his shoulder even if he didn't know it. I was there for comfort and I never pried.

But he needs to heal, and I can't help him if he doesn't open up. He needs to know that he doesn't always have to be strong. I think opening up will be good for him. It'll be a start.

He swallows, then looks down at the plate. His lips twitch upward again but this time, I could see a glint in his eyes. He was reminiscing again. It was a happy memory. One that makes your heartbeat, and your eyes smile.

"Actually, yeah. She's great in the kitchen." His eyes turn dark. "At least, she was."

Is he going to tell me?

Should I let him?

Is he ready?

Am I?

Maybe I should stop him.

"Sean—"

He rubs his face with his hands and rests his elbows on the table before combing his fingers through his hair. "It's okay," he says, interrupting my interruption. "For some godforsaken reason, every single time I'm around you, I've had the sudden urge to just— open up. I don't just feel that way, Alders." He shakes his head before averting his eyes to the floor. "Not me."

And when I thought I've seen it all, for the first time, he completely lets his guard down. He looked so vulnerable.

So hurt.

So fragile.

Like in any minute now, he could fall, shattering into a million pieces.

And deep down I was afraid. Afraid that I wouldn't be strong enough to hold him together. Afraid that I wasn't going to be strong enough to just. Be there.

"And the crazy part is, I haven't told you anything. Not one thing. Yet... it's like you already know. You see right through me, Alders."

I don't know what to say.

But maybe that's just it.

I don't need to say anything.

He just needs to know that I'm here to listen. That, I can do. I want to. So I pick up my jar of Nutella, pull up a chair next to him, and let him know that I was all ears.

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