Binding 13 (Boys of Tommen, #1)

by Chloe Walsh

I once read somewhere that we mature with damage, not with age. If that's the case, I was an old age pensioner in the emotional stakes.

Shannon Lynch had eyes the color of midnight blue that wouldn’t stay the fuck out of my head.

One of his eyes was turning purple and swelling at a rapid pace, and he had a steady trail of blood flowing down his eyebrow, but it didn’t seem to faze him one bit. Johnny's attention wasn’t on the medic or the referee shouting commands in his ear. He was too busy looking at me.

That got me giggling and kicking my feet

Oh, dear god. That boy's smile was something else...

I hated humans. They were such a disappointment. And to think, god switched dinosaurs for man. He must be raging.

"What happened to your face?" My father beat me with a newspaper… "Uh, don’t worry about that," I muttered, wiping my cheeks with the back of my hand to erase any residual evidence of tears. "Give me a name," Johnny growled, dropping his hands to his hips. "And I'll take care of it." "What– no! I'm grand," I quickly replied. "I have allergies." "Me, too. I’m allergic to assholes and bullshit," Johnny snarled. "Now, tell me who made you cry and I'll fix it."

I couldn’t take anymore. "Look at me." I didn’t. "Look at me," he repeated, tone calm and coaxing. I couldn’t. I felt him shift beside me and then his fingers were on my chin, tipping my face up to his. "You're safe," he whispered, cupping my cheek in his hand, eyes boring holes straight through my soul. "I promise." That word. God. That one word broke me. It was all too much. My life. Those girls. My father. And in the middle of it all, I could only see him. This boy.

"Shannon." Johnny's hand snaked out and wrapped around my wrist. "I don’t want you to go," he said gruffly, tugging me back down beside him. "I want you here." He rested a hand on the bed right behind my back and leaned close. "I want you to stay with me."

"I'm going to hug you," Johnny whispered in my ear. "Tell me if that's not okay?" Sniffling, I turned inwards and buried my face in his side, answering his question with actions. Johnny's arms came around me, pulling me close, and I clutched his shirt in my hand, fisting the fabric tightly, as sobs racked through my body. "I'm here for you," he told me, voice gruff and thick, as his hand moved in slow circles over my back. "If you need someone to talk to," he pulled me closer, "I'm right here."

I nestled my cheek against his side and closed my eyes, allowing myself to drift off to sleep without an ounce of fear in my heart because it couldn’t exist inside of me, not when this boy had his arm around me.

"Keep her name out of your fucking mouth,"

I just died🤭

Slipping the headphones on my ears, I carefully scrolled through his playlists and almost had a heart attack when my eyes landed on the one named Songs for Shannon.

Hij heeft speciaal een playlist voor haar gemaakt?! AAAWHHHH

I already felt like I was drowning with her. That's how consumed I was in this girl. That's how much I loved her.

"Well, who's this girl?" "She's a river," I sighed and closed my eyes. "I'm keeping her, Da." "Okay, son," he coaxed. "You keep the girl." "She makes my heart go, like, whoa." "Is that right?" he mused. "So bad, Da," I sighed. "Boom, boom, fucking boom." I shook my head. "All the time."

"You are in trouble with me," I told Johnny once the door had clicked shut, leaving us alone together. "When you're back to your senses, we're going to talk about what you just did." "I don’t care," he slurred groggily. "I got what I wanted." "And what was that?" I asked. "To embarrass your mother?" "You," he slurred. "I got you."

"Even the best fall down sometimes, son. What you do next – with clear, calculated, logical thought – is what will define you."