Part 33 (1/2)

I'd been preparing for his face to go red, but while he seemed stiff, he didn't appear overly angry or upset finding me in his house, in his daughter's bedroom, on her bed with her.

”She sleeping?”

”Y-y-y-y-yes, ssssssir.”

”She's supposed to be grounded, you know.”

”Y-y-y-y-yes, sssssir.”

He paused. ”She doesn't get enough sleep.”

While I was working up my response, it turned out I didn't have to. Mr. Young turned as if he was going to head back downstairs, but paused again.

”I'm grabbing lunch and then I'll be leaving again in a half-hour.” He took a deep breath and looked me in the eye. ”You hurt her in any way, Elliott, and I'll find out.”

Although he didn't threaten me exactly, it was present, lying subtly under his words and tone. While I wanted to tell him that I would never hurt her, I knew it wouldn't matter to him what I said, so I simply answered him with another, ”Y-y-yes, sssir.”

I was sure if Sophie had heard what he said, she would've been upset, but as I'd told her before, it was good that he cared so much.

She slept for over an hour after her father had left and woke again with a start, pulling out of my arms and shoving me back. I was against the wall, so there was no place for me to go. She, however, was propelled backwards.

”s.h.i.+t.”

Instinctively, I reached out to steady her, but instead of grabbing her outright as I had before, I laced my fingers with hers. Eyes wild, Sophie got to her knees and put her hands, still attached to mine, to her chest.

I was silent, just watching her. Sophie was quiet too, except for her breathing as her eyes darted around the room, seeming to search the corners and baseboards. After a moment, she seemed to want me to release her, so I pulled my hands away.

”Hi.”

”O-okay?” I wondered what she'd been dreaming about and whether or not it was something she felt she could share.

Sophie got off of the bed, and stretched, then went to the opposite side of the room, the place farthest away from me. While she drummed her fingers against the doorway of her closet, she looked at me again.

”I must have fallen asleep.”

I nodded.

”You...should've...”

”You e.

”Just relax. You get so tense, it's no wonder you have trouble saying stuff sometimes.” She stopped what she was doing and looked directly at me. ”It's just me, Elliott.”

I took a deep breath. It was just Sophie. ”I b-b-br-broke a p-plate.”

She just looked at me for a long moment before saying, ”Well, stop hurting your hands, okay? I like holding them without the bandages and the risk of hurting you.”

I couldn't help but smile.

When she slipped one of her hands into mine, I said, ”SSSophie?”

”Hmm?” She looked up with a smile.

”You m-mm-make me happy.”

Although she was still smiling, it faltered just a bit. ”That's because you don't know what's good for you.”

I gripped her hand tighter. ”You're good fffffor m-me.”

She didn't dispute what I said, but she pulled her hand away and returned to cooking.