And not that I want him in the same bed as me.
I think.
God.
I gave a big exhale. My dad is going to be in a panic state on a whole new level if he ever found out.
As I rolled and bounced to a new position, I felt a hand on my side. My eyes sprung open and I’m looking straight into Jim’s worrying expression who was leaning his torso up off the floor. “You haven’t stopped moving and shifting since you got under the covers.”
“Sorry.”
“You don’t need to be sorry, Charlie. Do you need me to say it again?” His eyes were shifting, searching mine.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, not able to look at him. Not believing this is happening when it shouldn’t be. I shouldn’t be here.
“Open your eyes, Charlie. Please.” He paused until I complied. “I’m going to say it, then I want you to repeat it.” A tear slipped out of my eye and ran down my nose. Then slowly, seriously but with emotion he said, “You are safe here… with me.”
When I just continued to look at him and another tear came down my face, soaking into the pillow, he whispered, “Repeat it.” He squeezes my side with a little pressure with his big hand.
With an emotional hiccup, but with my eyes closed, I repeated, “I am safe here… with you.”
After a moment of silence, I felt Jim’s hand shift to my face, cupping my cheek and wiping under my eye. “Good.” Then his hand disappeared and when I opened my eyes, he was out of sight, having laid back down on the floor.
I closed my eyes again with a big exhale. I wish I could have felt safe while being held in someone’s arms instead of my own. I drift off thinking about what it would feel like to feel safe with Jim curled around me.
nine
Fearful Rebel
Jim
-Brrrrriiiiinnnnngggggggg-
“Fuuuuck–”, moaning. I reached up to the nightstand above my head, and swiped the alarm clock in my grip to tag the lever, making the bell that was ringing stop, then sat it down beside me, closing my eyes again.
Sleeping on the floor was horrible. I barely got any shut eye. And by the sound of it, Charlie didn’t either because I heard him tossing and turning most of the night as well. God, he was a mess. I got to get him moving to find his place, hopefully before Mike was aware he was gone.
I sat up to see if the alarm woke him, but my eyes only saw an empty bed. Startled, I got up off the floor and headed for the hallway to see if he’s somewhere in the house, like the bathroom, but thatdoor was open with no one in there. David's door was still closed, rightly so. It’s Saturday, our day off and it’s six o’clock in the morning. I should probably check to make sure he’s not dead though from that punch he took for me last night.
I turned the doorknob slowly and quietly trying not to make any noise. When I could get a peek, I saw David lying on his side, facing away from me. I saw his torso expand with a breath so that’s the only sign I needed and quietly closed the door. I should have probably checked on him throughout the night, but my mind was clearly more worried about the now missing man that was in my bed last night.
I headed downstairs and Charlie was nowhere to be seen. The outside door in the kitchen that we came in last night was unlocked. He must have snuck out during the short time I was asleep.
Exhaling and locking the door, I turned to the stove and put on the coffee and water kettles. I’m up and awake now, might as well stay standing. As I sat and waited, I daydreamed about icy eyes with a hurt that I wanted to cure.
I felt a hand on my shoulder and popped awake, looking up at David.
“Please tell me you didn’t sleep here last night,” looking worried.
Sitting up, I groaned from leaning over with my head laying on my folded arms against the table. My full coffee cup sitting where I left it, having only taken three sips before clearly passing out again.
“No. I slept on the floor in my room, once I was able to get Charlie into bed,” taking a breath and stretchingmy arms up, then shaking them out to get the blood flowing again.
I looked up at the clock, seeing it was almost ten in the morning, then glanced back at David. God, his bruise is bad. Richard really got him good. I hope his hand was useless. “Your face looks like shit. How does your head feel?”
“Tender, and I have a headache which is to be expected,” reaching up to lightly touch the side of his face. “I probably should have iced it last night, but I was a bit drunk and didn’t think of it.” Then like a light bulb turning on, his facial expression bops in shock, “Oh shit, my mother is going to freak out when she sees me when I get home!”
“Yeah, that’s not going to be good,” as I gave a sympathetic look. “It wouldn’t be such a big deal if they didn’t live with you. It’s not like they don’t have options.” We had talked about this before. He moved his parents in with him almost a year after he started working in the mine to save money all around for everyone. I am still surprised the company allowed it to happen. His father didn’t work in the mountain, and never had.
