The Last 30 Days [Inactive]

"Sure." Isabelle told him. She anxiously stared at the tv, and grew excited as the movie started to play. Last in the series, she would've forgotten it had Blake not asked her what she'd read.


Isabelle changed her spot on the couch so she was laying on her side, one arm propped her head up.
 
Blake waited near the microwave and when it dinged he put the popcorn in a large bowl. He brought it back out and sat down, lifting Isabelle's feet onto his lap. He put the bowl in front of her stomach, equal space between the two of them.
 
Isabelle turned her head and opened her mouth wide. She pointed a finger at her mouth and then the bowl. "Come on, throw one at me."


The movie played in the background, but Isabelle sat expectantly, hand still propping up her head. She wiggled her legs and pressed her feet together. It was an odd quirk of hers, if her face didn't give away how embarrassed she was first.
 
"Keep still, you'll throw off my shot," he said, pinning her legs down with one hand. With the other he got a piece of popcorn and threw it at her, aiming at her mouth. It missed and he tried again, still missing. "Ok, here we go," he said, reaching towards the bowl. He aimed and threw, a hand full of popcorn leaving his hand.
 
As the barrage of popcorn hit her face, one by one, she laughed and closed her eyes and mouth. "That's cheating! That's cheating!" Isabelle picked up the pieces and threw them back at Blake.


She turned her attention back to the tv, and seriously warned Blake, hoping he would detect her sarcasm. "Now stop playing around. I'm trying to watch this."
 
Blake tried to catch the returning popcorn but failed miserably and he chuckled, watching the movie for a few seconds. He glanced to the side and saw that Isabelle was also looking at the tv so he slowly started throwing popcorn at her, one piece at a time.
 
The first few pieces Blake threw at her, Isabelle simply picked up and ate. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction, but still there was a smile on her face. They hadn't even gotten halfway through the movie.


"Are we playing or watching?" Isabelle asked.
 
Blake shrugged, throwing a few more pieces. "You wanted to watch, but then you wanted to play and now you seem to want to watch." He picked up another piece of popcorn and examined it as though he were deciding whether to throw it or not. He didn't, instead eating it. "So make up your mind."
 
Isabelle sat up, and put the bowl on the floor, then repositioned herself so her head was on his lap. "Watching."


This was more comfortable anyways. Having something to rest her head on was a nice change compared to her propped up hand. She brushed her hair out of her face and tuned in to the movie again. It felt like it would be over soon, and she didn't want to miss it.
 
Blake had seen the movie so many times he could nearly quote it by heart so he played with her hair instead, occasionally looking up at the tv. He was trying to braid, but he didn't know how. He knew the general things about braiding, three strands crossed over one another, but he still couldn't figure out how to do it. Here he was, a 2o year old man with an IQ of 139 unable to make a braid.
 
Having Blake play with her hair was soothing, she loved when people played with her hair. Sensing that he couldn't get it right, Isabelle chuckled. She whispered, so as not to talk over the movie. "Three strands. Take the left, cross it over the middle." She waited for him to copy what she said before continuing, "Now take the right, cross it over the middle. Then repeat until you can't."


She hoped that would help.
 
Blake frowned while he worked, a small crease furrowing eyebrows as he concentrated. He managed to make a less than decent braid on his first try and he tried again, this time pulling the strands tighter.


"This is a lot easier than I thought it would be," he said, still playing with the strand of hair in between his fingers.
 
"And yet you were having some difficulties." She teased. Isabelle wanted to closer her eyes, and enjoy his fingers in her hair, but she was so in tune with the movie at this point, she hardly noticed any more.


Frodo and Sam had made it, and Isabelle watched with wide eyes the scene where it would all end. She cringed when Frodo lost his finger, mumbling her disgust. Isabelle curled her legs up and nuzzled her head to a new comfortable spot on Blake's lap.
 
"Well excuse me if I can't do stuff on the first try," he said in a mocking tone, tilting his head side to side while he talked. Now that the movie was closer to the end he really started paying attention, his fingers only brushing through Isabelle's hair every once in a while.
 
When the credits started to roll, Isabelle mumbled quietly, "Keep doing that." She placed a hand in front of her face on Blake's leg and twirled her fingers around his knee. "Playing with my hair, I mean, it feels nice."


Isabelle didn't even mind when his hands passed over the back of her head. She herself traced the same line quite often, as she'd grown used to doctors doing the same. It was only a small bump, where her tumor was, Blake shouldn't have been able to feel it unless he knew where it was, and Isabelle just wanted him to play with her hair.
 
Blake let the credits play instead of turning the tv off like he would any other time. Isabelle wanted him to play with her hair so he continued without question, practicing a few more braids. He even tried braiding with three already braided strands. It gave a confusing and not quite appealing look and Blake instantly shook it out.


"When did you find out you had a brain tumour?" he asked quietly, his voice barely higher than a whisper. It always bothered him to ask such questions, as though Isabelle would get upset and not want to talk anymore.
 
"A few months ago. January I think." Isabelle responded, her eyes shifting to the floor.


It wasn't that she didn't want to talk about it, it just made her nervous. She pulled Blake's braid aside and tried for his hand. It took a minute for her to find him, without looking. When she had a hold on his hand she forced his hand to point and traced a line down the back of her head.


"There." She stated. "I had a lot of headaches, I fell over a lot, too. Just out of the blue, it was like I couldn't stand on my own two feet. I had a seizure, at my aunt's when we were visiting. It was a lot smaller then, just the size of a quarter." Isabelle held her hand up, making a small circle with her fingers. "It's more like a baseball now. It was supposed to go away, I took some medication for it, but it didn't work. So here I am."


She shrugged in his lap, still avoiding turning around.
 
Blake felt the tumour, his fingers tracing the bump with a light touch. He could hear the reluctancy to speak in her voice but still he pressed on, "Doesn't chemo work for some brain tumours? I mean, you'd lose all your beautiful hair, but would that have maybe worked?"


Blake really didn't know anything about tumours or anything medical for that matter but he'd still try to sound like he knew a thing or two.
 
"It does. Yes." Isabelle resumed tracing circles on his knee, staring intently at the spot. She furrowed her brow, not quite remembering what stopped her from doing chemotherapy. "I think we were going to try it. Our doctor didn't recommend it, because it was so small. I think it just turned into a matter of time. It got bigger, and my symptoms got worse, so."


She stopped drawing circles and set her hand on his knee. Had she done chemo, Isabelle wondered if it would've worked. After hearing, originally, about the option, she had done some research. There were a lot of technical terms, she did her best to remember.


"It's not the best option, initially. I think they use it for post-surgery sometimes, I'm not sure, but I feel like I read that somewhere." Isabelle smiled for a second, "They're going to have to shave a bit of my hair you know. I was thinking about just cutting it."
 
"Cutting your hair?" He said the words slowly, pulling Isabelle's hair straight and putting his fingers where she'd have to cut it to blend in. "You'd look good," he told her, not sure if he 100% believed it. He really liked her hair, it was soft.


"And why not having the surgery earlier? Like, when the tumour was smaller."
 
"When it was small, it wasn't as big of an issue." Isabelle finally turned so her face stared up at the ceiling. Her eyes, filled with worry for herself, gazed up towards Blake. "The medication was supposed to take care of it. It was, something. I don't remember what it was called. My symptoms went away, I thought I was okay."


She played with a strand of her hair, thinking back to the many visits and check-ups. "When we found out it was growing again, we scheduled a surgery. I have to go in soon, pre-op, so they can see if it's gotten any bigger."
 
Blake nodded, now understand the predicament. "And your symptoms, they came back?" He was genuinely curious, so curious it almost blocked out the sadness he felt while speaking about this issue.


It wasn't long now until the surgery, Isabelle must have been stressed, Blake didn't know how to help. All he could do was be there for Isabelle, no matter what.
 
"Yeah." Isabelle nodded slightly. "It's actually hard for me to walk sometimes. My balance feels thrown off, but I'm managing." Then she smiled, she was proud she'd done so well. Isabelle tried every day to be normal, and it was going well. Besides the headaches, and occasional seizure, she was still breathing.


"You don't have to lie about my hair, by the way." She smirked, "I don't want to cut it that badly. I like it this long."
 
Blake laughed, shaking his head. "You could tell I was lying? And it might not be a lie, who knows, you could actually look nice with short hair." He talked and started playing with her hair again, braiding it and stroking it. "But I do like it like this."
 
"I was only guessing. You looked like you were enjoying playing with it." Isabelle laughed, her assumption was odd, sure. However, he sounded like he had hesitated. She didn't want to lose her hair, but if it had to be done, she'd wait for it to grow out again. "I like it, too."
 
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