[32] Lengths of Trust (Part 11)

(Malory)

By the time the photos are taken, my room light is back on, and I’m cleaning my face, and Kyle is sitting on my bed, staring at the pictures. I sit beside him. I study them.

“Yup,” I say, “You definitely look like you manhandled me, Davidson.”

The phone tightens in his grip. “Why did you agree to do this? I mean I know it’s to protect your mom but... you do realise this is…sad…extreme… and just… awful…” he says.

“My mom and myself isn’t the only ones I’m protecting,” I tell him. “I’m protecting you, too.”

He scoffs.

“You’re worth protecting, you know.” I assure him.

He looks at me sadly. “I don’t think so.”

“Well,” I say, rubbing his back, “You are.” I pat him on the shoulders before messing up his hair and scrunching my face. “Cheer up. I’m trying to be a heroine here.”

He scoffs and looks down at the images again. “It doesn’t look like you. It really doesn’t. Not at a first glance.”