"What?" Justin's brows furrowed, and he gave me a blank, suspicious expression. Sure, he was shocked to hear my answer, as the last time he saw me, I was outside my uncle's garage. He had come and untied my hands, which is how we had met and became friends. But he hadn't given me his wristwatch.

I didn't answer his question because I didn't have one. I kept quiet.

"Hey, where do you stay then? And what were you doing at someone's garage the other day? Why would someone tie you up like that? Answer me!" Justin blurted out so many questions at once that I became nervous. I was already anxious, and his questions made me want to cry like a baby. But I kept my mouth shut. There was no way on earth I could trust him with my family drama because we weren't that close. Hell, no!

"Joe, I am asking you something," he scowled. His voice was calm and dominating. For a split second, he looked more like a domineering brother than a teenage friend. I smiled.

"Hey, are you even listening to me? Where do you stay? What were you doing down there when we first met? Tell me." His questions didn't sound like questions; they were more like manipulative orders to tell him all the things I was going through. He made it look like I had to tell him everything, no questions asked in return.

"Well, none of your business," I said, a little nonchalantly, but then regretted it that very instant. It came out wrong. "Okay, fine. Don't tell me. But at least tell me who your parents are or who you live with?" Again, he came back to the same point I was trying to avoid all this time. I thought it would be better if he hospitalized me because then I wouldn't have to answer any of these questions. But no, hospital authorities ask a lot of questions too. But I didn't know how to save the situation in any other way without letting him know why I was the way I was. So, I finally spoke up. "My parents are dead."

That's all. That's all I needed to say to keep him from asking questions. And after hearing my answer, he didn't say a word, and I was pretty thankful to him for that.

Justin decided not to ask anything more that day. Instead, he took me to his house and laid me down in his bed. I was so exhausted that I fell instantly, feeling every muscle in my body begin to relax, and I dozed off instantly. The next morning when I woke up, I found myself a little bit refreshed, and my whole body was surprisingly calm. I didn't feel any pain and didn't feel any urge to leave the bed either. I was too tired to even think about it. There were stitches on my forehead, and an aroma of some kind of balm was coming from my lips that I could taste with my mouth. Justin's bedside table had an ice tray and some meds. Maybe they had given me painkillers to numb the pain away.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

His windows were open, and soft sunrays barged through them. I looked into the sunlight that fell right next to the bed and discovered a familiar fragrance that I hadn't felt in a long time. I turned.

Lying beside me, hands on her chest, wearing that same white dress, was Diane. She looked as helpless as me (I don't know why), but the only difference was that she looked beautiful, and I was looking devastated.

"I am sorry, Joe," her voice broke, and her eyes welled up with tears. Though she tried to stop it, a single teardrop escaped from the corner of her eye and slipped down on the pillow underneath her head. I watched as the teardrop fell on the pillow cover and moistened the area around it.

Then I looked back into her eyes. I saw the same declaration I had seen in my mother's eyes when those guys were kicking me.

"No need to say sorry," I said and wrapped her in my arms.

We stayed there for some time, she, inside my arms, her head resting on my chest. Nothing was audible other than the sound of our soft breathing and pounding heartbeats. That was all I wanted at that moment of my life. All I wanted was Diane. My chest moved up and down, and she listened to my heartbeat like it was some sort of beautiful rhythmic music to her ears.

I could have never known what love felt like if Diane hadn't decided to come into my life. I was lucky enough that she never left me, or at least, unlike Danny, never faked a relationship with me. Whatever we had between us was more than everything to me. I know society troubles me a lot; they mistreat me every time I give them a chance. But amidst everything, Diane was my only soulmate. She was the only home where I was always safe.

"I wish I could stop them from hurting you, Joe. I wish I was there to save you," she finally whispered. I had a feeling she was riding a guilt trip. She had never been broken like this. I don't remember her ever being so sad. She was always cheerful and enthusiastic about everything. But this time, the tears in her eyes made me extremely insecure.

"It's not your fault. I should speak up for myself," I said, trying to sound "I'm okay" when I truly wasn't.

"I won't let that happen next time, Joe. I won't let anybody hurt you again. I'll always be there to help you. But if I don't come, just call me for once, and I'll be there," she made me want to believe in her words. But I didn't want to appear weak, not in front of Diane.

"You don't need to worry. I will learn how to defend myself; I promise," I tried to sound confident, and at the same time, I was insecure as hell.

She looked up. Her long and wet eyelashes cast shadows on her face, and she looked more beautiful than ever. I licked my lips, unable to resist the urge to kiss her. So, I kissed her. A long, slow, and beautiful kiss. But our tongues didn't meet each other. I was already out of breath, and when we pulled back to take some air, she leaned in and kissed me, this time on the forehead. We had our second lip kiss. Then third, then fourth. And then she was gone. I was left alone in Justin's bed, which seemed kinda awkward to me and confusing at the same time.