Unwritten Rules by M.A. Stacie

when a sharp piece of debris cut through my flip flop as my feet crunched across the floor.
    I didn’t know how long it would be for the
    medication to start to work but knew he needed to regulate his breathing. I rifled through his kitchen until I found a paper lunch bag. For the next thirty minutes I made Jonah inhale and exhale into it as he looked me in the eyes and matched my own breathes. The paper bag crinkled with each labored breath he took and I stroked his hair until he seemed to calm down.
    “I’m okay,” he eventual y rasped, lowering the bag from his lips.
    I sat motionless.
    “Thank you. You can go now,” he continued, his voice cutting.
    “I’m not leaving. First of al , you shouldn’t be alone in this mess. And I’d like to talk to you. I need some answers Jonah.”
    He grumbled, his body shuddering when I final y moved my hand from his hair. He tried to stand but swayed. When I reached out to help, he rejected me.
    “What?” I cried, my fists clenching at his rebuff.
    “I’m trying to help you!”
    I noticed the color was starting to return to his cheeks, but averted my gaze when he glared menacingly at me.
    “You didn’t need to stay, but again, thank you. I would have dealt with it on my own.” He lowered his voice, muttering, “I usual y do.”
    “You have these cravings often then?”
    “Cravings?” He snapped. “You’re kidding me,
    right? You think I was jonesing for drugs? I told you those meds were mine. I’m not a fucking addict.”
    I real y didn’t want to argue with him. He stil looked weak and could barely stand, so pressuring him wasn’t the best idea; but I wanted answers. I sighed in defeat and walked over to the overturned couch.
    “I’m going to clean up this mess, then I think I should take a look at those cuts on your body. I stil want to know what happened and what the hel I just gave you. However, I’m going to set it aside for now.”
    “Wel , isn’t that kind of you?” His reply oozed sarcasm.
    “You know what, Jonah? You get so defensive
    when al I’m trying to do is be your friend. It sure as hel doesn’t seem like you have many if you are going through this kind of thing alone.”
    He hung his head, his dark hair flopping forward and exposing the back of his neck. Even now, in the midst of al this turmoil his body cal ed to me.
    I looked away. The silence was deafening.
    As I began to clear the wreckage, Jonah tried to help. He struggled with even the lightest of furniture, the exertion exhausting him. I would catch him looking at me; sometimes his eyes were guarded, other times I swear I caught a hint of longing. I berated myself as I swept up the shards of glass. I should have known something would go wrong with this. I’d jumped in feet first, because the hot neighbor at the mailboxes showed me a little attention, and now I’m swimming in a sea of what the hell. Jonah interrupted my mental chastisement by
    clearing his throat. I met his intense blue stare as he scratched the back of his neck and waited. “Thanks,” he whispered.
    It was apparent he didn’t want me here, didn’t want me seeing him when he was vulnerable. Maybe al we had was incredible sex. I’d tried not to consider it as anything more, but I couldn’t help myself.
    “I know you don’t want me here. I promise to
    leave, but I need to clean those cuts. Okay?”
    “You don’t need to do that, Red.”
    His voice was gruff. The use of the pet name he gave me, with that particular tone, did wonderful things to my insides. I could hide my reaction to him, but I couldn’t lie to myself. It was useless to fight the feelings he invoked.
    “I’l feel better knowing you won’t bleed to death after I’ve gone home.”
    I shot him a smal smile, desperate to lighten the mood. He eventual y walked into the kitchen and handed me a bottle of peroxide, along with some smal cotton bal s. I pointed at the stool, making him sit down and lean over the counter so that it exposed the