Easton hovered throughout the whole ordeal; officers scoping the scene, doctors working on the victim before he was taken to a better equipped hospital, and he even stayed near me while I was being questioned.

At first, I was antsy with his presence always right where I could feel it, but I eventually started to relax knowing that he was there. I still wasn't used to that feeling and I didn't think I ever would be, mate bond or not.

All that played on repeat in my head was finding the man, thinking he was dead, realizing he wasn't, and then noticing the scars on his arms and torso after his shirt was ripped off for treatment. 

The scars looked familiar, and dread pooled in my stomach when I realized why. 

They looked just like mine.

Quickly shaking that off—it's not crazy for someone else to have similar looking scars than mine, right?—I finally met Easton's worried stare.

All the police went back to their earlier positions, Aaliyah headed back inside to calm the confused patients and their families, and all the other doctors and nurses went back to work. 

It was just Easton and I, leaning back against the same wall I propped myself on before everything went down.

I looked away again, not being able to handle the concern he seemed to hold for me. Everything was fine now, I didn't understand why he cared so much.

"Are you okay?" He whispered into the quiet, his eyes never leaving the side of my face. 

A noncommittal shrug was what he got in response. 

"Dandy." I huffed out, wishing this day would just come to an end. 

"Finn." There it was again, that firm tone I found so hard to ignore. 

I glanced back toward him, unable to resist, when he continued, "You've been through a lot the last couple days, it's okay to not be okay."

His hair gently tousled as a breeze swept through the alley, rattling a can on the ground that didn't quite make it into the dumpster. I didn't know what to say, but I opened my mouth anyway.

"Whether I am or not doesn't change the fact that it happened, does it?"

He sighed, a long and drawn out breath that screamed of exhaustion. I knew I could be exhausting. 

"I guess not."

Just when I thought that was the end of this ridiculously uncomfortable conversation, he went on, "But, it does matter. It matters to me, whether you believe that or not."

I didn't respond, just mulling over the words. Someone genuinely asking how I was and telling me my feelings mattered was an entirely new experience. I had no idea how to act, so I just brushed it off. Like I always did.

"We should get back inside." My words were quiet, an invitation to move on from the uncomfortable topics. 

Easton's shoulders dropped, looking dejected. I ignored that and just started walking to the door. 

"You can talk to me, you know? For goddess' sake, Finn. Every time I feel like we're making progress, you shut me out again. We are literally made for each other, I can tell a part of you wants this. Why are you fighting it?" His voice raised, arms crossing over his chest. 

I glanced over my shoulder at his eyes, filled with hurt. My heart clenched, but I knew I was doing him a favor. 

"I'll see you inside."

And then I was gone.

I felt so alone, but that was the kicker, wasn't it?

This was all my own doing. I pushed people away like it was a sport and I was aiming for gold.

Aaliyah had told me that she was there and I believed her, but I didn't deserve it. 

And Easton? Well, I couldn't handle letting myself fall into him when I wasn't sure how long he'd be there to catch me. 

I had been burned so many times, both literally and metaphorically, that I knew I couldn't take it again. It would have been the death of me, I was sure. 

Sometimes, when I woke with a start at three in the morning to some loud thump in the apartment building, all I wanted was someone to be in bed next to me. To turn to me and ask if everything was okay. A part of me, buried so far down that I couldn't hardly find it myself anymore, wanted a person in my life that knew everything. 

Someone else to carry the weight of my life, my trauma, so that I wouldn't have to do it alone anymore. 

But, that was selfish, wasn't it? What I went through was something I never could wish on anyone, regardless of who they were. I dedicated my life to helping others like me, how could I possibly let someone else in to see the bloody mess of my past when I knew what it would do to them?

Every time I longed for someone to love me, I felt selfish. How could I desire for love when I knew what the hardship of loving me would be? I was a goddamn mess, loving me would only hurt Easton in the end.

I wasn't cut out for it, and that was just the plain and simple truth. I had to accept it, it wouldn't be right to give in to Easton when I knew what he would be getting himself into with me. 

I had to keep my distance, whether he liked it or not.

Though, that would prove difficult with Easton insisting I stay with him until they caught whoever broke into my apartment. I was completely against the idea, but I wanted nothing more than to stay the hell away from that apartment and I didn't have the funds to stay at a hotel long term, either.

So, at the end of the day, I found myself back in Easton's car on the way to his home. I wasn't sure what the arrangements were going to be, but I knew I needed to be alone when I slept. Too many nightmares plagued my sleep for anyone in the same room to actually get a wink of rest around me.

It shocked me when Easton walked me to his room and said he'd be sleeping on the couch until further notice. I wanted to argue, but I couldn't. This room had a door, and it smelled like him. It felt safe, as much as I hated to admit it.

So, I just went with it. Him and I didn't talk much after the little spat we had earlier in the day, and I welcomed the silence. It gave me time to think. 

And I had a lot to think about.