The Last 30 Days [Inactive]

Eventually Blake pulled back, once again looking into Isabelle's clear green eyes. "How was that for a first kiss?" he asked, grinning from ear to ear. So far, for him at least, it had been a perfect night.
 
Isabelle rested her head on his shoulder and sighed happily. "Perfect." She closed her eyes and whispered into his shirt, so her voice was a little muffled. "Let's go inside, I'm beat. Can't go home like this anyways."


It truly was a shame. Now Blake would be pulled into the nightmare that was her life. Not only would Isabelle be gone, but he'd be crushed. She told herself it would be worth it. Now she only could hope, against all the odds, that some miracle would be given to her.
 
Blake nodded and lead her inside and they took off their coats and shoes like they had earlier in the day. Blake too was pretty tired, but at the same time he felt wide awake, in the mood for being close to Isabelle again. But she was tired and so he brought her to his bedroom by the hand, and took a t-shirt from his dresser and tossed it to her.


"You can wear this," he told her, highly doubting that she'd like to sleep in what looked to be the uncomfortable clothing she had on. He also changed into a white tank top and green plaid pajama pants, nearly falling over when he lifted his foot to put it in the pantleg.
 
"Don't fall." Isabelle giggled as she watched Blake nearly topple over.


Shyly, she turned around so she could take off her shirt, followed by quickly pulling Blake's shirt over her head. She slid out of her jeans, almost falling also when she leaned down to pick them up off the floor. With her clothes in one hand, she turned around slightly to smile at Blake before she started to walk towards the guest room.


"I can sleep in here, I don't want to take up too much room or anything, and I don't know if I snore," She rambled on.
 
Blake practically burst out laughing and he quickly grabbed Isabelle's hand and pulled her back. "No way am are you sleeping anywhere other than next to me," he informed her, dragging her towards his own bed. He pulled back the covers and motioned for her to get in.
 
Isabelle didn't argue and climbed into Blake's bed. She curled up, back facing the edge of the bed and closed her eyes. "Your turn." She lightly patted the space next to her, and pulled her hand back.


Already she could feel some of the dizziness fade, she was really tired. All the same, she didn't want to take too much space, this was Blake's apartment after all. Being so close made her blush.
 
Blake obeyed, climbing in beside her. He smiled in the dark and scooted closer to the girl then wrapped his arms around her so she was cocooned by his body. The warms felt nice and he kissed the top of her head. "Did you have fun tonight?"
 
She nodded her head and hummed, "Mhm." Isabelle hadn't had such a perfect night in her life. It helped some that she'd just had her first kiss. She snuggled closer to his body so she could be warmer, her head found a nook near Blake's shoulder.


"You're..." Isabelle mumbled, trailing off as she started to drift into sleep. "You're really warm, you know?" Her eyelids grew heavy, and she gave in to the sweet rest of sleep. This was perfect.
 
Blake was going to answer but noticed that she had fallen asleep. He watched her for a moment, examining ever aspect of her beautiful face. Eventually he got too tired and fell asleep, a small smile still on his lips.
 
April 18th:


Isabelle opened her eyes to Blake, still next to her. Most of yesterday was a blur, and her head felt like it had been hit with a brick. She groaned and turned her face into the pillow.


Suddenly, she felt as if she might vomit, so she hurried to the bathroom and braced herself over the toilet. Nothing, though, it was just the alcohol she assumed. Isabelle quickly washed her face and looked in the mirror. Blake's shirt was still on her, nothing more than a light gray t-shirt. She had completely forgotten he had lent her clothes.


She made her way back to bed and then gently massaged her head.


Maybe drinking wasn't the best idea. She told herself.
 
Blake was barely awake although he stirred, throwing his arm over his eyes. He mumbled a weak, "There's Tylenol in the medicine cabinet." The sound of his voice hurt his head and he feared that any more movement would hurt it even more so he stayed as still as possible all the while wondering how he was going to get up and close the blinds.


He could only remember certain parts of last night, but he would bet his college tuition that it was perfect.
 
"I'm fine." Isabelle lied, the light was distracting. She forced herself out of bed and made her way to the window, she cringed with every step closer she got. Isabelle whispered under her breath, "It always comes back anyways."


She went back to bed and curled up against Blake with her eyes closed. "I think we must've had a good time. I hardly remember a thing, and I might be hungover."
 
"Don't lie to me," he scolded as strictly as he could. At the moment he didn't sound too serious, so he forced himself to sit up, holding his head in his hands. "And yes, you are hungover. We both are." Blake was never in a good mood when he was hungover, and deep down he knew he shouldn't be so rude because Isabelle didn't do anything, but he really didn't care right now.
 
"It just doesn't help, that's all." Isabelle said quietly, knowing full well she was being scolded. It wasn't as if she was a good liar anyways. "I can tolerate it, I've been tolerating it."


And for the biggest lie of them all, she squeaked out a tiny, "I'm fine.", she rolled over and stared at the wall, doing her best not to think about it.
 
Blake stared at Isabelle for a moment, glad that she couldn't see his slightly angered expression. He got out of bed and hobbled straight to the bathroom, splashing water on his face, taking three Tylenol capsules with a couple big gulps of water from the tap. He'd need more water than that to get over the hangover. Now he was more awake, more thoughtful of his actions. He frowned, thinking about both he and Isabelle were grumpy and there was no sense in taking it out on each other. After a few more gulps of water he returned to the bedroom, flopping back on the bed and hugging Isabelle to him. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly in her ear.
 
A few tears slipped down her face. Her head just plain hurt. She bit her lip to keep from sniffling or taking in any staggered breaths. "It's okay. It's not like you would really know what it's like. I don't expect you to."


Isabelle hugged her arms tight around Blake's. She wondered if he would ever regret this, wasting time on a dying girl. What was the point? But it was too late for those kinds of thoughts. The moment she admitted to her upcoming surgery, the time started to waste. She was embarrassed with herself for getting close, especially only after two days. All she could do was break his heart.
 
Blake frowned, unsure of what to say. He usually wasn't one to comfort someone else, he always hung out with people who could take care of himself. Yet here he was, with a girl who needed as much help as she could get. "I might not know what it's like but I can still support you," he murmured, pulling her hair away from her neck so he could give it tiny comforting kisses.
 
"You're right. I'm sorry." Isabelle wiped her face before turning to face Blake. There was half of a decent smile on her face, but her eyes were red. "Usually, I don't notice, but it's the pain in my head that reminds me it's there."


Isabelle placed a hand on his chest, before drawing large circles in a deliberate manner, trying to focus on the pattern than her own information as she continued to speak.


"Sometimes I have seizures. There haven't been many, but, it's the hardest thing you might have to deal with. I hope you don't. I had a seizure once, when my mom came to visit me at my Aunt's." She did everything to keep the memory at bay, even as she told the story out loud. There was no reason to be telling him, but, she wanted to. She desperately wanted someone to know that she was here, suffering. If he would listen, if only for this last month, well, it had to mean something. "It was the last time I ever saw her. She didn't know how to help me either, so she left. She just left me there. It was probably for the best. Aunt Judy knows how to deal with me."


Isabelle took a glance at Blake's face and stopped drawing on his chest.


"If you'd rather, I can just go." Isabelle said sadly, "A dead girl isn't a good use of your time, is it?"
 
Blake nodded as she talked, doing his best to be as understanding as he wanted to be. It hurt his heart knowing how much she suffered, but at the same time he didn't dare what to be near her if she had a seizure even though he was trained in First Aid and knew what to do in that situation.


When she said the last phrase the first thing to pop up in his mind was No, a dead girl isn't worth my time, but the thought was so repulsive he clenched his jaw so quickly he bit his tongue and made his aching head throb even more. It took him a moment to compose himself before he said, "No, no, Isabelle, you're so worth my time."
 
"You mean it?" Isabelle asked, "Even when my own mother..." She didn't finish her sentence.


There were no words. She wasn't being fair by asking anyways. Happy thoughts, come on, you like him. She snapped to attention in her mind. You like him. She hadn't ever said the words before, but it was clear in her mind. There was a mutual attraction between the two.


"Um, Blake." Isabelle started, "I can't tell what's from yesterday, and what's inside my head. Did you...I think you kissed me." She smiled, mostly sure the memory was true.
 
"I did indeed kiss you," he said, leaning back on his elbows. "It was quite enjoyable, I must say," he added, shrugging slightly. He hoped all the sad talk would end, it just made him think more of how he hated to deal with high maintenance people.
 
"Hm. That's good." Isabelle teased, "Everything was just fuzzy. Maybe one more now that we're sober." She added the last part quietly, smirking to herself.


Then, her stomach grumbled. She quickly curled up to quiet the sound.
 
Blake was going to kiss her but then her stomach growled and he couldn't help but chuckle. Placing a hand on her stomach he said, "Maybe later after you've eaten something." With that he stood up, pulling the girl up with him.


They walked to the kitchen, their bare feet making padding sounds in the silent apartment. "What do you want for breakfast?"
 
"Pancakes." Isabelle said with no hesitation, and quite quickly. She pulled at the edges of Blake's shirt so it covered her a bit more, she felt a little exposed, but was more embarrassed for Blake's sake than her own.


"I can do it, make them, if you want." She expected some sort of retaliation, so she insisted, "Really, I owe you, I had a lot of fun because of you."


Already, she rummaged through the cupboards, as if it were her own home, looking for any sort of skillet.
 
Blake shrugged, indifferent to whether or not she made breakfast or he did. He sat on the kitchen island, watching Isabelle open and close cupboards. "There's a pan in that bottom drawer there near the stove."
 
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