A New Perspective

Lisa: Thanks again for commenting, I really really appreciate that you comment on every
chapter!! I am so glad you don't underestimate the death of a pet, Some people just don't
understand what its like. I hope this chapter touches upon some of your concerns with
Noah. In the future you may realize that this is only one take Noah has on his brother and
depression, its just an endless source of confusion and frustration for him, that he can't
fix it. Brinley is two years younger than Noah, so she's 18. I hope you enjoy this
chapter!! Please keep reviewing I love love love hearing what you have to say, its always
soo helpful!!

Lilmissgg: I'm glad you really thought about Noah's take on depression, and I am really
glad about the fact you weren't offended, I was really nervous posting this chapter. I was
afraid that I would offend someone, I know physiological issues are extremely
circumstantial and effects everyone in a different manner. THANK YOU SO MUCH for
the telling me you love the story and that there is a following, I was beginning to wonder.
You're comment was really motivational for me and I LOVE YOU FOR IT! I hope you
enjoy this chapter. Keep reviewing please!!



Rowan and I are sitting in the emergency room. I didn't want to come, but after about
three hours of Rowan hounding me, and my hand swelling up like a balloon, he drove me
here, in my truck, which was horribly nerve racking. But we made itÉ.. two hours ago. I
hate emergency rooms; the wait always takes forever, what if I was bleeding profusely.
Lame question I know, but its still annoying, and my hand hurts like hell. The bag of ice
Rowan gave me is no longer ice, but more like a bag of slush, causing a puddle to form
on the floor by my feet, one drop at a time.

He gets up and wanders off, we haven't talked much since we got here. I'm embarrassed.
When I get embarrassed I either apologize consistently or stay silent. I already apologized
about a hundred times, so now I've moved onto the silent part. I keep thinking about what
I did, and it seems very unreal. I never react to anything in that manner. I always pride
myself in the amount of self-control I have. Now I know what that saying "went black
with rage" means. I need to start meditating again, that always helps me with my anxiety
and to stay grounded.

Rowan comes back with two kit-kats, handing me one. Wow, I can't remember the last
time I've eaten, and I am now very aware of how hungry I am. "Thanks" I tell him, and
he shrugs. Then I devour the chocolate in about two seconds.

"Noah Exavier?" The nurse calls out questioningly.

I stand up. Rowan follows me. Finally, I can't wait to get his over with. She leads us
through the double doors and down the hallway, signaling towards a small room with an
x-ray machine. She makes me place my arm on a cold table and Rowan and her step
outside while she takes about four different x-rays, making me turn my swollen hand in
four different angles. Please just be a sprain. I beg silently, but I know I know it's broken,
I heard it, and felt it.

"Okay, follow me please," she tells us and walks down the hall again, depositing us in a
empty room. "The doctor will be in as soon as the x-rays are ready" she smiles sweetly
then turns and leaves.

I don't let myself think about how this will affect the rest of my semester. Or what I am
going to say to my mom, or how good it felt when the pain hit.

I've always been sort of masochistic in a way, if I am being completely honest with
myself. I think it came out of being the middle child, and always playing the role of the
happy child, Brinley was feisty, Cameron was depressed. Therefore, I taught myself to
never complain, never act upset or sad for no reason. As a result, when I did get hurt or
sick I would get attention and I wouldn't have to feel selfish. There was a legitimate
reason for it.

However, after the last two reactions I had to bad news, I may not be able to ignore it. In
fact it would be stupid if I did. I've never been a cutter and even though I play the role of
being happy, I honestly usually am. So I never believed I would have to worry about
doing something like that to myself. But giving myself a painful tattoo and then
potentially breaking my hand, lead to the same result as cutting, pain. This freaks me out
a bit. I promise myself right now, that I will never handle another emotion by inducing
pain.

The doctor knocks on the door and walks in, x-rays in hand. "Hello gentlemen, she says,"
immediately clipping the x-rays up to the light board. She studies them for a bit, without
saying anything, driving me crazy. Finally she turns around, "Well Mr. Exavier, with an
E" people always seem to find it funny that my last name isn't spelt, Xavier, like
everyone else in the world. She smiles; I return the gesture, knowing she's just trying to
lighten the mood. "Looks like you fractured your hand in two spots." Shit, I knew it; she
turns back towards the pictures again. "Right here and right here" she gestures too the
bones that connect to my pinky finger and forefinger. "So I'm going to put a cast on you,
and in four weeks we can check up on them. They're only hair line fractures, so they
should heal up relatively fast." Well that's good at least. "So would you like hot pink,
lime green, blue, purple, red, orange, or black?" she asks and it takes a second for me to
realize that she is talking about a cast color, which seems bizarre to me.

"Black, please" I tell her and can't help but notice Rowan looking a little disappointed. I
normally would have chosen orange, but with black I wont have to worry about anyone
asking to sign it.

** * * * * * * * * *

Thirty minutes later I am walking out of the hospital, right arm enclosed in a cast that
travels three quarters of the way up my forearm, and a prescription for some heavy-duty
painkillers, for the first few days of healing. My teachers are going to kill me. At least
now I'll have an excuse for why I didn't call my mom. Tripped over an easel and landed
on my hand wrong, spent all day in the emergency room.

Rowan is staring at me weirdly, god I hope he doesn't want to talk about this, at least not
yet. "You look kinda hott with that thing" his eyes traveling down my arm to my cast.
"So mysteriousssss" he smirks, and I laugh, and it feels good. Really good.

"Thanks Rowan" I tell him and he knows I'm not talking about the compliment.


We get back to the dorm around seven; I take one of my painkillers and lay down on my
bed. Rowan puts on some music and goes on his computer.

A few minutes later the painkillers enter my blood stream, my whole body feels great,
and my head is a little loopy. Jesus, I feel like I'm drunk, or high, or both. I probably
shouldn't have taken them on an empty stomach. I get up off my bed and I'm a little
wobbly, I try and make my way over to my desk to grab the apple I had stolen from the
dining hall a few days ago, but the floor looks like its moving around underneath me.
Which is hysterical, so I start laughing. And soon Rowan is watching me and laughing
too. It feels like ten minutes have gone by, before I'm back on my bed and biting into the
fruit.

"I feel greatttttttt" I slur smiling at Rowan, swimming on his bed. I laugh again.

Rowan smiles walking over to me, as I chuck the apple core on the ground, laughing
again, I never do stuff like that!

"You know what would feel even better? If I gave you a massage" He smiles. I think
about it for a second, that does sound great! I've never let Rowan give me a massage
before, even when I've desperately needed one, which is often because I hold all my
stress in the muscles in my back. That's stupid! I should let him massage me! What's the
big deal?!

I raise my arms up in the air, not realizing I haven't actually answered him. He gets the
point, grabbing the hem of my shirt and removing it, his fingers running lightly across my
abdomen as he does. I giggle; I've always been ticklish. Rowan laughs at me, "you're
cute" he says.

"you"reee hottttt!" I drawl. "OOPS!" I squeal, covering my mouth with my hand in
shock.

"Lay downnnn" Rowan says with a big grin on his face. I obey.

He sits on my butt, which is also funny to me, but I forget to laugh as his cool hands
touch the heated skin of my back and he starts kneading into the muscles. Holy shit that
feels good, and I'm not sure If I just said that aloud or not.

"I'm glad to hear it" Rowan responds, answering my question as he runs his fingertips
along my spine.

"ughhh Row that feels soo fucking awesomeeee!" it takes me a bit to get the words out ,
since its hard for me to focus, and my brain still isn't functioning too well.

He moves to my shoulders, then between my shoulder blades, then to my sides, all the
while I cannot stop commenting and sighing underneath his touch.

He finds a ticklish spot , on the sides of my abdomen, near my hips, and I let out a full-
belly laugh. I am probably one of the most ticklish people ever. He laughs at my response
and keeps tickling me there. I'm trying to wriggle out from underneath him, but it's too
difficult, my mind isn't working and I can hardly breath because I am laughing so hard.

Somehow I manage to turn over, bad idea on my part, my stomach now fully exposed to
him as he sits on my hips. His hands run over my abs making me twitch and laugh more.

"Rowan PLEASE STOP! I CAN'T BREATHE!" I beg tears leaking from my corners of
my eyes. He finally does, but he doesn't get off me, he just pins my elbows over my
head, careful not to hurt my hand. Shit. It's his wrestling position. A position, I am in no
position to get myself out of. I laugh at my cleverness.

I may have to admit, that Rowan and me started wrestling each other the second half of
freshman year. About stupid guy shit, like he had something I wanted, or called me a
stupid name, or we just felt the need to show off our testosterone. But recently we had
started to get hard while we wrestled, cause of all the friction and stuff. So then that kind
of became our game, which of us can get the other hard first. Not in a sexual way, just
like in a playful, I am better and stronger that you way.

"Rowannnnnn" he just looks at me with his eyebrows cocked suggestively and starts to
rock his hips back and forth over mine. "Rowannnn stoppppp, this isn't faiiirrr" I slur,
laughing again, because apparently everything is funny right now. The fact that I am
wearing silky athletic shorts and he's wearing thin pajama pants, leaves no feeling to the
imagination and I start to getting turned on immediately. But only because of how hard
he is rubbing himself against me. I start to feel this body responding to mine in return.

My hands still pinned above my head, he thrusts against me harder and faster. And now I
seriously can't think, I can feel his erection against mine and the only thing I've managed
to say is "Rowan pleaseeeee" a few times in the last couple of minutes, but as my brain
gets foggier its beginning to sound more needy and less threatening. Fuckk this feels
good. I start panting heavily, Rowan is too, I've never let him get this far with me. He's
grinding against me needliy, or maybe it's just the meds, he just wants me to come, so he
can make fun of me. "ughhhh, fuck Rowan" I gasp in-between panting. He just bites his
lips in between his peircings, focusing on hitting me at the right angle. He looks fucking
hott.

"Row, ugghhhhh, FUCK, I'm going to come!!" I practically scream, his hips move even
faster, even though I didn't think they could. "ROWANNNN!" I yell. And I release,
grunting and bucking my hips underneath him, all over the inside of my boxers. Gross.
But apparently funny to my drugged brain, so I laugh.

He climbs off me and I don't think I've ever seen him smiling so wide. He's still hard.
But all I can think about now is changing. I wobble over to my corner of the room,
saying, yuck, eww, and gross multiple times. I strip wiping myself off with my boxers
and putting on a new pair. I turn around and Rowan is watching me. Crap, I think he saw
my butt. I giggle again. Then exhaustion hits. Hard.

I collapse on my bed, falling asleep immediately; I wake up briefly to the sounds of
Rowan grunting, and whispering, "ughhh Nooo, fuck." Why would he say "no" when
he's about to come, its suppose to be a good thing. I'm too tired to care, I fall asleep
again.


The next morning, I wake up feeling like I was hit by a train. My head is groggy, my
hand aches and I feel like I had a weird dream last night. I lay there, but can't remember
it for the life of me.

"How're you feeling? Does your hand hurt?" Rowan's voice asks from across the room.

"A little bit" I lie, it really fucking aches.

" Do you want some of your pain killers? You didn't seem to feel anyÉ..pain, while you
were on them last night." He smirks at me. Why did he just say it like that? And why is
he smirking?

OH FUCK.

I wish brains at a reverse button.

Mine would be in overdrive right now.

"Rowan, you DOUCHEBAG!" I almost yell at him. He just shrugs his eyebrows, a smug
grin plastered to his face.

" That's not what you were saying last night" I can tell he's trying really hard not to
laugh. Flashbacks of last night began flooding my head. Shit, Shit, Shit. He's not lying. I
flush to what I can only imagine, is a color close to maroon, and turn to face the wall.

"Nieeeee, I'm only joking!" he back tracks honestly "It was just the friction, anybody
would've jizzed all over themselves under the intensity of my grinding. I was hard too"
he smiles at me, like he thinks the whole thing was just a pleasured bit of entertainment.
Of course this means nothing to him, he's probably had a million people grind him until
he shouted their name. They were also probably dating each other at the time, and wanted
to do it because they were attracted to him, not to show off male dominance.

And for now, I'll just try not to think about the fact I ejaculated because of how sexy he
looked biting his lip. Cause that would mean..

Well that would mean a lot of things.


" By the way, you really do have an amazing ass!" and now he really his laughing.


(PS. If you ever see this symbol, É its actually just suppose to be three periods in a row,
but for some reason always gets lost in translation.)