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27
Leaning into Sonny, I breathe in his scent of musk and lemon. I so badly want to kiss him, to show him how much I care, but I don’t want to be another person he sleeps with to dull the pain. Connecting with Sonny has to be more than just mindless, thoughtless fucking.
It seems important somehow that I give him what he needs, not what he or I want. We might feel the same way, I might want to lose myself in him for a little while, but deep down I know that if I fuck Sonny tonight it would be a mistake.
He’s just opened his heart to me and given up his deepest, darkest secret and now he’s left raw. Helping him to heal is going to take more than a quick fuck. Not that I’m suggesting Sonny would be quick, actually, I think he’d probably take all the time in the world given what I know about him, but that’s beside the point.
Without initiating anything, I let Sonny hold me for as long as he needs. When I feel his arms loosen, I step away from his warmth and take his hand guiding him to sit on the floor opposite me. He looks a little confused but doesn’t question what I’m doing. Honestly, I’m not even sure I know what I’m doing. I’m figuring this out as I go along.
“Well, this is new…” he begins, trying to lighten the heavy mood that has settled over us both.
“No talking,” I respond, pressing my finger against his lips.
Sonny looks bemused, but he snaps his mouth shut, and crosses his legs in front of him, waiting for my next move.
Sleeping with Eastern had been easy, the most natural thing in the world. Two best friends coming together, a beautiful inevitability. With Ford it was different, he got beneath my skin and tore apart all my self-doubt and self-loathing. He made me stronger with every crushing kiss, with every searing caress. He built me back up.
This time the tables have turned, this time it’s Sonny who needs something from me, somethingmore. Sex isn’t the only way to show someone you care.
“I want you to look at me, Sonny. Lay your hands on your thighs and just breath.”
I expect him to crack a joke, to show me those dimples that melt my heart, but he doesn’t. He’s deadly serious when he stares deep into my eyes and inhales oxygen as though he’s a drowning man.
“That’s it, breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth,” I say gently.
After a beat he follows my instructions, and with every breath in and every exhale out, I can see the tension leave Sonny’s body. The muscles in his face relax and his shoulders lower as we continue to look at one another. I see questions in his eyes, vulnerability, but also trust.
He doesn’t know what’s happening, or where this is leading, if it’s leading to anything at all, but he trusts me enough to follow my lead.
“Just concentrate on breathing steadily. With the oxygen that you draw into your lungs, think of only the positive things in your life, no matter how few that may seem right now,” I add with a wry grin. “Then when you breathe out, let go of all the things that are eating you up inside.”
Sonny’s chest expands as he inhales a deep breath. When he exhales some more of the tension releases.
I learned this technique from one of my foster parents. She was a Yoga instructor, very spiritual. I spent a lot of time trying not to laugh when she was trying to teach me how to meditate. Mindfulness, she called it. At the time, I thought it was a crock of shit. Now, I see it might have its place.
“Keep breathing steady, keep your eyes fixed on me,” I whisper, moving position so that I’m sitting on my haunches in front of him. Careful not to move too suddenly, I rest my hands on his making sure to breathe in time with him.
For long minutes I stay just like that, my hands warming his. I make no move to initiate anything more, concentrating instead on connecting with Sonny in a deeper way because that’s what he needs right now. Apart from the breathing technique I picked up from my foster parent, I never really paid much attention. After another five minutes, I start massaging the backs of Sonny’s hands. I’m acting on instinct, pure and simple.
I watch his eyelids droop, his long lashes fluttering against his skin as my fingers move up his forearms. As I make tiny circular motions over the firm muscles of his biceps, a deep sigh falls from his lips. When I reach his shoulders, I rest my hands there, feeling the warmth begin to emanate from his skin through his t-shirt.
He takes a deep breath in.
I take a long breath out.
With every breath he inhales, I exhale, and we settle into a steady, calming rhythm. Slowly I move my hand lower, placing it over the eagle tattoo that I know sits within the centre of his chest, inked above his heart. It stutters a little, picking up speed as my fingers press against him, only to find a steady beat when I lift his hand and place it over my heart too.
With every minute that passes, the cold ebbs away and an intense warmth spreads out from beneath our hands as my own eyes drift shut. I’m not sure how long we remain like that, but eventually I become increasingly aware of Sonny’s gaze on me. It’s so intense, that I’m almost afraid to open my eyes. Then I remember who this boy is and what he means to me and I refuse to shy away from whatever I’ll see in his eyes. I expect pain, fear, pity, sadness… even desire but when my gaze meets his, all I see ishope.
Hope for a better future. Hope for something more.
When Sonny looks at me, he doesn’t see a broken girl from a broken home, fighting to survive in a world that’s doing everything to destroy her. He sees a future, a life together.
And it does something to me.
Inside my chest something vital takes hold of my heart. It blooms outwards growing stronger, rushing through my veins with every beat of my battered heart. Sonny doesn’t make a move closer, he simply stares whilst this feeling takes hold. His gaze traces over my face, moving from my eyes to the tip of my nose, over my cheeks until it lands on my lips. His pupils widen as he takes in another deep breath and with it, my own heart stutters. An energy ripples over my skin, scattering goosebumps over every inch of me, and when Sonny’s fingers grab hold of my shirt and he pulls me towards him, I don’t fight it.
“I was wondering if you had an extra heart, Asia, because mine was just stolen…” Sonny says, a lopsided grin pulling up his lips as he showcases those beautiful dimples. The line is so fucking corny, and I’m pretty sure he’s nicked it off the internet somewhere, but it doesn’t matter because I’ve fallen for it. Hook, line and sinker.
