Where His Heart Is

I’ve never met anyone like this, not quite like this, not quite like him; he was so peculiar, he never smiles. He never seems to care, he just . . . he just barely makes it threw the day. I try and try but he won’t budge, not a single smile. He clutches his backpack closer to him. We were already half way to our neighborhood by now. I looked at him and he gave me a glance from the corner of his eyes.  He knew what was coming next. We’ve done the same thing for almost two years now.

“Please don’t”. He asked.

“I havvvveeee to. Soooo how was your day?”

“Same as always.” He replied not amused.

“Well that’s no fun”. I pouted and continued walking in silence.

I don’t get it, everybody likes me I thought as I watched him walk. His black backpack was plain and dull like his soul. How could one person be so emotionless? Was he strange? Heck yes, but that didn’t affect his looks. I might not like his attitude but I sure did like his looks. His hair was pitch black, not a single strand was out of place. Ever couple of steps he would run his hands threw his hair. It was just long enough for that, for his to run his fingers threw it; not too long but just long enough. His eyes were brown but not like basic everyday brown it was the lightest, brightest shade of brown they held flecks of a lighter color in the center, green maybe? He had a tan toned complexion and it was . . . perfect.  He was, for a lack of better words, gorgeous. We continued to walk and as we were turning onto is street he speed up like he always does. But this time I was curious, I’ve always been curious but this time it was a little too strong to ignore.

I tip toed to the door he had just entered and watched. A little boy came rushing in, he was chubby but he looked just like him. It was like someone took Blaine’s face and pasted it on the body of a one year old. Blaine’s arms outstretched to the little boy and for the first time ever I saw his smile. His smile could have knocked me strait on the ground; it was breath taking. I involuntarily smiled with him. He should do that more often I thought. Smile that is. He twirled the little boy in his arms. They both seemed so happy, so carefree.

I almost forgot how much of a stocker I was being looking threw his window. Shortly after a women appeared, she looked similar too Blaine but not quite the same. His mother I supposed. After her followed a man he looked absolutely nothing similar to Blain or the boy; a step father maybe? Blaine didn’t look too friendly with him. I guess that happens sometimes right? Stepfathers and step kids often don’t get along?  Blaine had a conversation with his mother while still holding the boy in his arms. It was as if ever second they spent conversions the conversation got more and more heated. Eventually Blains face was blaring red and he sent the younger boy away. He continued to argue with his parents; I scrunched my eyebrows together trying to hear enough to figure out what they were arguing about.

“I’m not 12 anymore in 17, I can do what I want! Stop letting him treat me like a kid”.

“I will treat you how I very well please! As long as you’re in my house you follow my rules!” The man looked angered, extremely angered. I could already tell his pride consumed him from head to toe.

“Steven, maybe you should ease up a little on him”.

“What did I tell you about undermining me women!” The man I assume to be Steven grabbed her arm, she made a face that it seemed as if he was slightly hurting her.

Blaine saw red. He pushed Steven away from her and against a wall. Steven was slightly taller then Blaine but it was obvious he was not as fit, Blaine would have the upper hand in a fight and they both knew it.

“TOUCH MY MOTHER AGAIN AND I WILL BLIND YOU! DO YOU UNDESTAND?”

I flinched from the harshness of his voice. I was on the other side of the door and I was still shaking. Steven didn’t say anything. He shoved Blaine to one side and headed for the door. I knew I had to move or he would see me.

I ran to the other side of the house where I stood against the wall and waited, when I heard a car speed off I looked around. I have to go.  Then I noticed there was another window to my right. I heard sobs, soft sobs. I looked in and I saw Blaine, God he was so beautiful. Even with his tear strained face he looked heavenly. I knew I couldn’t just leave like I had been planning to. I couldn’t leave him like this.

I tapped lightly on the window and watched as Blaine’s face snapped up to meet mine. He quickly whipped his face and came to open the window.

“What are you doing here? Leave.”

“No.” I said softly.

“Jess please just go”.

“I wont leave you like this.”

“What did you see?” he asked giving into me.

“Enough.”

I walked over the bed where he was sitting with his head in his hands. I couldn’t do this; I can’t see him like this. Why does this hurt me? I moved his hands and looked into his light brown red shot eyes and I did the only thing I thought I could. I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. He immediately gave into me. I felt him relax and his arms wrap around my waist. I felt so small in his arms, and safe. He picked me up slightly so I was sitting on his lap with him still holding onto me, I could feel him breathing on my neck. I could feel the dampness from his eyes. I tangled my fingers in his hair and whispered, “You’ll be just fine.” again and again in his ear.

After some time just being there with him he laid down with me snuggled up to his side like a child with its teddy bear. I looked around his room, it was a dark blue-ish color, his walls were plain, and he didn’t have much up. Almost like he could get up and leave at anytime and not spend too much time packing. He took a deep breath and I heard him start to talk.

“He isn’t the first guy to do that. She was married before. Not with my father but with Jacob’s.”

“Jacob is your brother? How old is he?”

“Yeah, he’s one and a half”.

“His dad and my mom were married for five. Then things got violent. I was eight at the time. I didn’t know what was happening. They would just send me out of the house every once and a while and ever time I came back my mom would be crying and bruised somewhere.” He looked pained. He took a few more deep breaths and started again.

“But then Jacob came and things were okay again. They seemed happy. But that didn’t last for long. They started fighting and arguing even more about a month after he was born. He would yell at her to keep him quiet and she would try her best but Jacob was sick so often, sometimes she just couldn’t get him to calm down. I was eight! All I knew was that my mom was getting hurt, so naturally I stepped in front of the blow once. But even when he realized he had hit me he didn’t stop. He his me a few more time before my mom got herself together and kicked him out. He didn’t really bother us after that. I guess he could hit her but not her kids.”

“Blaine . . .”

“Stevens never hit her. He knows I’d kill him if her ever did. He just gets heated and almost. But that it, he always stops at almost. I try and convince her to leave him but she wont listen. She just says she loves him.” By this point I was almost in tears.

“Its my job to protect them. I should have protected her years ago! I should have known! I was an idiot!”

“Blaine, please stop! You were eight, you couldn’t have known!”

“Jess he HURT her! I grew up with a man the HURT my mother! That’s the home I lived in! What if, what if one day . . . I grow up to do the same?” I was taken back, he looked so sad, and he looked so scared. How can he even think that!

“Blaine Anderson don’t you DARE say that again! Do you hear me? You are not him! You will never be HIM!”

“You don’t know that.” He said it like he was confronting his worst fear; and he was. He was absolutely terrified of the idea of ever being a monster like the man he shared a house with for five years. His monster isn’t under his bed his is in his head. How do you hid from a monster like that?  I looked at him, I really looked at him; he was so scarred. I cupped his face in my hands and whipped away the moistness rushing from his eyes and I kissed him. I kissed him because I felt something about him, because he made me feel something, something stronger than I was used to, something that felt like a lot like fire. He kissed me back after his moment of shock and when we stopped he looked at me, neither of us speaking a single word. He laid us back down and I rested my head on his chest with one leg thrown loosely around his waist. He closed his eyes and relaxed ad I did the same.

 He was not plain, or dull, or careless. He was never emotionless or heartless. This is it, this it where his heart is. I was the one without something to care for. His is here, it’s in his family, it’s in his home and his love for that is what made me realize what my passion is. He’s emotions are contagious. He gave me something to care about, something to put my heart in, him.