Trying to convey as many positive thoughts as possible to get him to relax a little, his head just shook back and forth in a‘no’gesture.
I nodded back, “Drink that at least. It will help.”
He downed his glass, so I filled it back up and silently guided him into the living space where he suddenly stopped and said, “You don’t have a couch!”, with panic in his voice.
“No, I don’t,” I stated calmly, walking toward the stairs and motioned for him to follow but he wasfrozen where he was standing. After saying his name twice, he finally looked up at me where I had stopped four steps up. His breathing was rapid and unsteady, and he was looking a bit green again. “What’s wrong? It looks like you’re about to throw up and pass out on me at the same time.”
He backed up against the wall next to the kitchen door, like he was hoping to blend in or disappear. “I shouldn’t be here,” he said to the thin air in front of him. Then he looked up at me while hunching over, looking like he was attempting to try to make himself as small as possible.
I studied him, trying to make sense of what he just said and how he was acting, when it clicked. “Are you afraid of being around me? Of being here?” The energy he was giving off, as well as Mike’s overprotective intentions, started to piece together what I needed to know.
And if I’m correct, this whole mess just got way more complicated.
eight
Seen And Safe
Charlie
“Are you afraid of being around me? Of being here?”
I was trying to process what Jim had said while still panicking that there was no couch. He was looking at me, like he was trying to find the missing piece of the puzzle, when his eyes widened with surprise like he found it. The only thing that I say that’s safe is what I already said, “I sh.shouldn’t be here.”
Then we heard a door open and soft steps at the top of the stairs. Jim turned to look up when I heard David’s sleepy voice, though he was out of sight. “Jim, what is happening?”
“Everything is fine. Charlie is here with me, but we are okay.” Taking a peek back to me with a calm expression, then turned back to David, “You can go back to bed.” Jim’s brow rose and he nodded in that direction.
After a quiet second of the best friends having an unspoken conversation with a single look, David walked down a couple steps and looked at me. Wow, his bruise is bad. The guilt that I felt because of that happening. If I hadn’t opened my mouth, no one would have gotten attacked. I avoid eye contact by looking at the floor.
“Hi Charlie. Everything is good, yeah.” I can tell he was trying to convey peace. All I did was give him a flick of eye contact and a slight nod. “Good.” After a moment of silence, I heard footsteps walking back up the stairs and a door clicking shut.
The next thing I knew, I felt Jim’s rough fingers on my chin forcing me to look at him. That’s when I noticed my face was wet. Jim wipes my cheeks with the lightest touch. “You are okay, here.” I tried to look away by forcing my head back down and to the side, but Jim held it tight, making me look at his calm yet serious face. “You are okay, here. Do you hear me? You are okay and you aresafe,” putting emphasis on the last word.
It had been hard to read this man since I met him, but what he was saying now mixed with his expression, I thought I understood plain as day what he was trying to say without saying it. After he wiped my cheeks again, he took my hand in his and guided me up the stairs.
At the top landing, I paused as I started to shake with jitters, but he gave a slight tug as he continued on, passing the bathroom and ignoring the closed door right in front of us as we turned around the banister.
We entered the main bedroom down the hall, where there was a full-sized bed with one night stand on the left side in the corner, with a window that looks out to the road we came down to get here. The wall across from the bed had an accordion door that’s wide openwith clothing hanging up neatly and organized. Another window on the other outer wall looked out the back, where another path lay and the neighboring building sat.
I froze again in a mix of fear and surprise, not believing that I’m in Jim’s unit, let alone his bedroom. Jim turned around, reading my mind again, which he seemed to be really good at. Not great for me.
“I’m going to sleep on the floor. You take the bed,” he said, lightly. Like it was no big deal.
I jerk my head in his direction, my mouth dropping open in protest. “What? N.No! I can’t do that to you.”
“Charlie. Get in the damn bed.” Then he grabbed one of the pillows, dropped it on the floor and turned to his closet, giving me a look at his back side. He lifted his arms and stretched up onto his toes to reach something making his back muscles flex in his thin shirt. After a moment of maneuvering items on the top shelf, he came out with a blanket, making his butt bounce a bit when he landed back down on his heels.
Turning around too quickly, he caught me looking and my face began to heat, and I started to panic again by backing up and diverting my gaze. “Charlie,” he said in a tone that was neither calm or angry but straight and to the point. “You. Are. Safe. Here.” I looked up at him, still holding the blanket. “Now please, get in bed.”
As he shook out his blanket, I slipped off my shoes. He laid down on the floor, as I crawled into the bed and got under the covers. I closed my eyes, but my head is so foggy and at the same time, I’m felt so wired out. Sleeping seemed out of the question.
Clearly Jim knows.
About me. Maybe?
I didn’t know if I was being too obvious or if he was just that good at reading people but, can he knowwithout saying the words? Does it make it real if he won’t say it? Or is it that he wouldn't say it because he didn't want it to be real for his own comfort?
He said I’m safe but at the same time, his face was so unreadable ninety-eight percent of the time. Plus, he is on the floor. Was he choosing to be down there because he didn’t feel comfortable, or because he’s trying to keep me calm, not that it was working very much.
