16

                                    

                                          
I woke up feeling as though i'd been thrown down 5 sets of stairs. 
                          
Yes specifically 5. I was in agony. 
                          
As I managed to pick myself up from my bed, I headed towards the bathroom so that I could examine the damage that that man from the night before had caused. 
                          
And let me tell you, when I lifted my shirt to have a look in the mirror, I did not expect the bruising to be that bad. 
                          
My ribcage was completely covered in swollen bruising and there was a large, red handprint engraved into my side. 
                          
The sight of it reminded me of the night before  made me just want to break down into tears. And I would have if I hadn't have heard Alex letting out a loud groan from the living room, reminding me that he had stayed the night. 
                          
I quickly pulled down my t-shirt and entered the kitchen. 
                          
Alex was sat up on the sofa in the living room that joined onto the kitchen, his hair messy and his eyes heavy. 
                          
God he looked good. 
                          
"How ye feelin' love?" he asked upon acknowledging my presence. 
                          
"A bit sore," I admitted, "but I'm okay."
                          
"I'm glad," he responded as he walked over into the kitchen. 
                          
"Coffee?" I asked him. He answered with a tired nod yes. 
                          
"Could you go grab some mugs for us please," I asked him as I filled the kettle with water, nodding my head to the cupboard where they were stored. 
                          
He then lightly brushed past me to get into the cupboard where I kept the mugs, causing me to wince at his touch on my waist.
                          
He froze for a second. "How bad did he hurt you?" he asked in shock to my reaction, before attempting to lift my shirt to peek at the damage. 
                          
"Alex i'm fine," I lied, swatting his hand away. I didn't know what his reaction would be if he saw how bad the bruising really was, so I tried my best to keep it hidden from him. 
                          
But he was having none of it. 
                          
"Bella let me see," he demanded and tried to lift up the shirt again. 
                          
"Alex i'm fine," I groaned back, stepping away from him, only for him to step forward and reach for my shirt once again. 
                          
This time I gave up and let him see the damage, getting the message that he wasn't going to let it go until he saw. 
                          
"It's not as bad as it looks," I sighed upon seeing his distraught expression. He looked as though he had just seen a ghost. He lowered the t-shirt and raised his head to face the ceiling. He was on the was on the verge of tears and I felt horrible seeing him like this, given the fact that I was the cause.  
                          
"It's not right," he exhaled, refusing to make eye contact with me. I could see his jaw clench and his fists tighten in fury. 
                          
"Hey," I said softly, cupping his cheek to force his eyes to meet mine. "I'm okay Alex," I added in attempt to calm him down, "but I wouldn't have been if it weren't for you." He looked back at me with apologetic eyes, as if he blamed himself, as if he felt like he could have done more. 
                          
"It's not right though Bella," he returned, his coffee brown eyes now filling with pools of water, "no one should get away with that, it's fucking disgusting," he continued. 
                          
"I know, I know," I agreed, my eyes now beginning to fill too, "but it's okay. I'm okay."
                          
"Nah it's not," he shook his head in dismissal, "it's not okay. Especially when it's you that's on the other end of it," he added, gently placing my hands into his.
                          
My heart begun to beat like a racehorse. "Wha- what do you mean?" I stampeded, gazing straight into his glassy eyes and swallowing the great lump that had now formed in my throat. I was confused to say the least. 
                          
"Because I—" he begun, before he was quickly cut off by a sudden:
                          
Knock, knock, knock. 
                          
We stood frozen into one another's gaze for a moment before he lowered my hands, releasing them from his grasp. "You should prolly go get that," he muttered, bringing his hand to scratch at the back of his neck awkwardly, avoiding direct eye contact with me. 
                          
Although I was grateful that he was checking up on me, I wanted to kill Jamie for ruining that moment. 
                          
What was he going to say? 
                          
"Thank God your alright," Jamie sighed as he wrapped his arms around me, bringing me tightly into his grasp. 
                          
Once again, the sudden contact made me jump back from his touch.
                          
"What the fuck did he do to you?" he asked with the same expression that Alex had before. 
                          
"Jamie i'm okay, honestly," I dismissed, walking back into the kitchen where Alex was. Jamie followed behind me. 
                          
"No, she's not okay," Alex jumped in, "go on, then show him," he added, talking about the dark marks that now covered my body. 
                          
"I'm fine," I repeated for about the one millionth time. Alex shook his head, nearing me, lifting up my shirt once more. 
                          
"Holy—" Jamie exclaimed, moving closer to examine the bruising better. "If I ever get a hold of the bastard that did this to you i'm going to fucking kill him." His eyes scanned my black and blue body, and I could see the vain in his forehead begin to pulse in anger. 
                          
"I fucking wish that I had," Alex added, sipping at the coffee that he had finished off making himself when I went to greet Jamie. 
                          
"It's not as bad as it looks," I sighed once again as I quickly pulled my shirt down, in attempt to take all the attention off me. Jamie looked back up at me, his eyes still holding the horrified expression printed upon his face. 
                          
He then hugged me as close and tight as possible without harming my fragile bones, ensuring that I knew that he wouldn't ever let anything like that happen to me again, and that if he ever saw the man that did this to me, he'd make sure he got what he deserved.
                          
*
                          
"Hello?" I said into the phone, confused as to why he was phoning me so randomly. 
                          
"Pack your stuff we're going to France," Jamie said excitably at the other end of the line.
                          
"Honestly?" I asked in ecstatic disbelief. 
                          
"Yep, the plane leaves Friday at 8," he continued, "you're coming tourin' with us."