Story Catch Me If I Fall

[Walliver]

If you’re bleeding out in the parking lot Colton Elise Warren, I will kill you. Analise silently promised to herself, stuffing her phone in her purse. He never left her on “Read”, much less “Seen”. He was too polite for that, despite his bad boy aesthetic. He was too polite. He had to be in trouble.

Analise Vavilov wouldn’t say it that night, but she loved him. She loved the broken boy who crawled into her life at age 14 and never let go. And maybe it wasn’t the kind of love most people thought of when they saw the two together. Maybe it wasn’t the kind of love Cole needed, the love he deserved. It was a bond closer than siblings, but farther apart than lovers. Analise shook herself. Get it together, woman. He needs you. And like it or not, you need him.

She parked her preowned car in the lot, not seeing Cole’s motorcycle anywhere. Her heart leapt in her throat. She took the phone from her purse, quickly dialing the number she knew so well. “Come on you platinum blonde idiot, pick up.” she muttered. The dial tone rang from behind the establishment, sounding like death bells tolling.

“Please don’t be dead.” she whispered, heels clacking as she walked. Praying to anyone who would listen. She was agnostic, but she’d give anything for a sign, a miracle.

“Please don’t be dead.”

 

[Walliver]

“Hey Princess.”

It was a smile of bloody teeth and cut lips, the wave of a bloodied hand and a wince of pain. It’s okay, I’ve been through worse, I’m fine it’sfineit’sfineit’sfine-

“Hey, okay, try not to move too much.” Analise knelt down next to him, peeling off her jacket hastily. “Here, keep pressure on that.” Cole rolled his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I know the drill, Princess. Not the first time this has happened.” he would have laughed it off if that wouldn’t have torn him in half.

“Wait- you’ve been stabbed in an alleyway before?” and he gave her this look. Like she was out of her mind.

“Sweetheart, take one look at me and ask again if I’ve been stabbed in an alleyway before.” he deadpanned. She sighed, taking out her phone to dial 9-1-1. “I’m calling paramedics, and you’re going to the hospital.”

His eyes, usually joyful and bright, turned scared and dark. He opened his mouth to speak. “Hey, it’s okay. I know you don’t like them, but I’ll be right there with you. And I won’t let them put you under, okay?” she offered out her hand to him. He took one hand off the now-red jacket, placing his hand palm-up in hers.

“Okay.”