Page 100 of Shattered

“Asher’s not perfect. But he’s mine.”

“Forgive me if I grill him?” he asks with a smile.

“There’s nothing to be forgiven, Ian. And thanks for the sunflowers.”

“A little obvious?”

“Maybe. Y’know, I still like them, but I think I’m gonna cover them up.”

“Really?”

I nod. “Yeah. They don’t feel like me anymore. I’ve changed. But I’ll probably leave that quirky one in the bathroom.”

“You realize the entire outside of your house is yellow, right?”

Oh yeah, fuck. I think it’s time to tone that down just a smidge.

“Shall we go grab some grub?” Ian asks.

I nod eagerly. For the first time in days, I actually want to eat.

All the socializing wears me out. Once everyone starts to clear out, I return to bed in the den. When I wake up, and there’s no more daylight coming through the curtains, I know it must be nighttime. A phone screen is lit beside me, and I follow the light to see Neela lying on top of the blankets.

“Hey.”

She turns to me, locking her phone so she disappears. “Hey. Need some pain meds?”

“No thanks.” The pain feels manageable right now. “Turn the light on, will you?”

She turns on a lamp beside my sofa, and the room lights up. When I look over, I see a sketchpad on the table beside the lamp.

“How about something to eat?” Neela asks.

I smile. “I ate lots earlier. Where’s Asher?”

“Bathroom.”

Looking over Neela’s shoulder, I see Asher’s sketchpad. “Could you pass me that?”

She reaches over to grab it and hands it to me with a soft smile. When I open to the first page of the one on top, I see some heavy scribbles, as though he let out all his anger on the first page, bleeding through and damaging several pages after. When I find the first actual drawing, I freeze. It’s a skull with two fucked up eyesockets. It’s Rooney. I can’t look at it, so I flip to the next page, finding a full-body portrait of Bane. He’s laughing, brushing his hair from his forehead. He looks so real. So alive. I nearly ruin it when a teardrop drips onto the paper in the white space on the side, and I wipe my tears.

“It’s so unfair.”

Neela nods sullenly. “I know.”

It’s hard to flip the page again.

The next page shocks me as I take it in, and it takes me a moment to realize that it must be me. I’m naked, on the ground, my eyes closed, and my cheek pressed into the floor.

“Is that you? When he found you?” Neela asks, her voice shaky.

“I didn’t know he does portraits,” I say with a nod, my heart rate rising.

“He doesn’t. He told me when I found him drawing. Flip the page.”

I do as she says. It’s me in this bed. The blankets cover me up to my chin as I take a deep, peaceful sleep. To my relief, he didn’t draw the huge gash on my face or highlight my burns. I look normal.

“I sat with him and watched him draw for a while. The way he looked at you was beautiful.”

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