Rescue My Drowning Heart | COMPLETED

The Sound Of Your Laughter Is Better Than A Movie

"Some things we don't talk about, rather do without and just hold a smile. I will be your guardian when all is crumbling, I'll steady your hand." —The Fray.

Chapter Theme Song: 'Never Say Never (Don't Let Me Go)' by The Fray.

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Harmony

Being a girl, it is always necessary to have an extra pair of underwear in your possession. It'd be convenient for a rainy day, and today was in fact, a rainy day. Pun not intended.

I exit the bathroom and gently shut the door behind me. My hair is still damp from the shower, and I somehow managed to knot it into a quick messy bun, a few wet strays dangling at the sides of my face.

The aroma of cheese and hot noodles can be smelt from upstairs, and my stomach immediately rumbles with appetite. However, as I am about to head back down the staircase, my attention drifts to Blaze's room door which is partially opened.

The night of the party flashes before me, and I mince over and push it gently to the side, entering and looking around the meticulously organized space. His bed brings back fuzzy memories of when I had laid in it that night, and the mat we sat on when he had kissed me causes my face to tinge red all over again. I will never forget the events of that night; they will probably stay with me for a lifetime.

My eyes shift to a half-opened white box on the floor beside his bed, sheets of papers poking out of it, one of which has a crayon-colored drawing. My curiosity looms, and my feet gently thuds against the floor as I make my way over, bending down and uncovering the lid.

I discover that the carton holds a few art pieces, and they seem to have been drawn by a kid. Could they be Blaze's?

I take up the first one that pulls my attention—a drawing of a little boy; half of his face is crying while the other half is wearing a faint smirk. It brings my thoughts back to the Naruto depiction I had seen in English class, and I wonder if this is an actual portrait of himself. He seems to have a liking for creepy images with contrasting emotions.

There is a caption at the bottom, inexpertly written with black crayon, and I squint my eyes to make the words out.

Save Me From Myself.

I narrow my eyes. If Blaze did draw this at a young age, how on earth could a child come up with such a profound phrase? And more importantly, why does he need saving from himself?

I tilt my head to the side in thought, the statement and illustrations bothering me deeply. It seems he's portraying his emotions through his art.

Another intriguing sketch steals my interest, and I take it up to have a closer inspection. It's of a woman drawn with blue crayon, yellow, scribbly lines of what could be tears streaming down her face, and she's holding what appears to be a gun to her temple.

Realization dawns on me as my eyebrows furrow inquisitively. Is this Blaze's Mother?

"Harmony!"

I jolt at his voice, quickly putting everything back into the carton and sliding it under his bed. I get up hastily, grimacing when I almost injure my spine. I utter a whispered moan before blowing my lips out and leaving his room.

Luckily, he was calling me from the kitchen, and I scurry down the glass staircase, trying not to seem as if I was just prying on his personal belongings.

"You were calling for me?"

"Yeah, I thought you fell asleep in the shower. We should hurry if you want to be back at school by 4:30."