Her heartbeat

❥ 22.

"Okay"

"Everything is fine Myles really, its not as bad as it looks." I said as I put the piece of paper back on my nose.

"Madellaine, you're covered in blood and a few shades whiter. I don't think everything is fine. Please tell me what's wrong." He said with pleading eyes.

I can't. I really cant. I can't tell him, if he's that worried about a little nosebleed, how would he react if he knew every detail of my illness ?

I took a few steps back and threw the bloody paper in the trash. I looked in the mirror and saw that I actually got whiter, I look like a zombie.
I could see Myles through the mirror behind me, his worried look never left my eyes. He came closer, put his hand on my waist, turned me around, so I was facing him and pulled me slightly towards him. My stomach felt butterflies as he placed a hand on my cheek. 
His touch sent me to another world. Into a world, I never want to leave again.

"I promise you Myles, everything is fine. It's just that I get nosebleeds from time to time. My doctor can't explain that either. She assumes that I may have a wound in my nose or something." I lied to him. And I freaking hated it.

"And what about becoming pale ? Is that normal too ? He asked suspicious.

"I think it's because I didn't eat that much today."

"God Madellaine, why would you do that ? Let's go to the kitchen, I will cook something for you", he said and took my hand and was about to pull me out of the bathroom, but I stopped him.

"No no, everything is fine, I am not really hungry either, you don't need to make any circumstances for me." He looked at me, with this look that says you're serious ?

My statement didn't hold him back. He pulled me out of the bathroom into the kitchen. I scooped  fighting against it, he has a really strong grip, not that it hurts, he's just very strong. That's sounds so childish, god

"Come sit down here." He tapped at the bar chair that was on his kitchen island. I sat down because I knew it was useless to discuss with him, because he would still do his will.

He opened the fridge when I positioned myself on the chair and watched him unpack the utensils for the food. "Are you hungry for spaghetti ?" He asked with a smirk.

"That sounds perfect. Is there any chance you're Italian ?"

"Nope, fully american. But I lived in Italy for a while when I started boxing. My uncle had his own gym there and when I was younger, he used to train me." He told me when he started cutting the tomatoes.

"Oh, how old were you when you started boxing ?" I asked curiously.

"Ten."

"Oh wow so early."

"Yeah, I was obsessed with watching box fights when I was younger, I always enjoyed it so much when I saw the fights on TV or live with my uncle. Or when he used to train me everyday in the gym. These were the best moments of my childhood."

I put my elbow on the worktop and held my chin in my palm. I was blinded by how he talked about his childhood and about the things he loved. He looked so happy. His smile didn't leave his face for a second while he told me everything.

"Yep, that's actually the reason why I love boxing. I find it liberating you know. While I'm standing in the ring and fighting the person that stands in front of me, I can free myself from everything.

"What do you have to free yourself from ?"
I asked. 

"A lot. Like you." He said when he put the knife away and brought all his attention to me, looking deeply in my eyes.