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The fear and paranoia are embarrassing. I’m fucking embarrassed I got so worked up this morning. It’s just… finding that list and the nightmares really got to me. I felt like I was drowning in a childish fear that still has its claws rooted deep in my thoughts.
The fear faded to uneasiness when Sebastian talked me down. Just being around him makes me feel safe and protected. If I could be with him always, I would. Because he settles something deep down inside of me. He makes me crave more. More from life, but also more from him.
A different kind of nervousness took over the moment I got into his car. The soft leather was something I didn’t expect. The hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clearing of Sebastian’s throat were the only noises the entire ride.
This morning, I had to tell someone and he’s my only someone, even if that’s a pathetic truth. I didn’t think twice. He didn’t answer his phone, so I went to where I knew he’d be. It made every bit of sense to me at the time.
Until I slipped into his car and was engulfed in his scent. Until I peeked at him as he drove his car with an air of dominance and authority.
In a room with other people, or even in a room I’m used to being in, Sebastian is still the boy who kissed me. But alone, in his car, something changed. And suddenly I lost my voice along with every thought I ever had, except for the dirty ones that crept up late at night about Sebastian doing more than just kissing me.
Today has been nothing but a series of fucked up thoughts running wild in my head.
“What’s on your mind, Chloe Rose?” His deep, rough voice breaks into my thoughts and I take my time reaching for another fry, carefully taking a bite before answering him.
“Just wondering about how much can change in a single day.”
I can feel the heat rise up my chest and to my cheeks, all the way to my hairline as he leans forward, his broad shoulders stretching out the t-shirt as he tells me, “I would swear you were thinking about something else.”
His steely blue eyes seize all my attention and hold me accountable. I can barely breathe, but he doesn’t need the confirmation. He’s plenty full of himself already, so I simply eat the rest of the fry and shrug. I ignore the butterflies and the desire to push him for more of that teasing side of him. This is the part of his personality I’ve craved, but I don’t want to appear desperate or say something stupid. I don’t want to ruin it. I can barely believe I’m here with him. I don’t even want to think about it for too long; I’m afraid if I do, it’ll all go away.
His cocky half smirk is what makes me look anywhere but at him as I try to remember how I ended up here with him.
Thoughts that I wish I hadn’t tried to return to.
Remembering when my mother died, how I felt the same way. Afraid and paranoid. I felt like no one understood why I was so completely distraught. The mix of emotions never felt right, and I never had any control over them. They hit me relentlessly, like the constant blow of boughs as I was forced to run through trees in a forest. Swiping at me, scratching me, taking me by surprise. I was only a girl, but old enough to remember, old enough to know I could have done something.
“I thought I was done with all this,” I tell him absently.
“How’s that?” Sebastian asks me with his brow furrowed and a look in his eyes that’s compassionate and curious. This is how I imagined he’d look when I read those texts all that time ago. It was only an image conjured in my head because I’d never seen anything of him other than the hard, dangerous boy he wanted everyone to see.
“Do you really want to know?” I question him, the uneasiness returning. He nods his head once and I figure, why not? I have no one to talk to and after this, I’m not sure he’ll even talk to me again. So why not let it all out?
“I thought I was over feeling like this…” Before I can finish, the air conditioner blows across my skin from above me just then, and a flow of goosebumps trails down my arm and shoulders making me wish I hadn’t picked this seat.
“You want to switch spots?” Sebastian asks and again, I’m surprised he would ask me that.
I gently shake my head and try to recall what I was thinking only seconds ago. Before Sebastian destroyed my thoughts again with a mere five words. He’s good at that.
Clearing my throat, I stare down at the half-eaten pile of fries and remember the gut-wrenching feeling and sickness of what’s to come. The living in fear and agony part. Oh yes, that’s what he took my mind from.
“I thought I’d gotten over this feeling of being in constant state of fear and guilt.” I don’t look at him as I speak this time. If I do, I’m not certain that my mind will stay on course. “Even after you…” I don’t mention what he did, and my gaze almost darts up to meet his eyes, but instead, they fall on his lips. “Even after school let out that year,” I say, choosing to settle on the time rather than the action we both know I’m referring to. “Even then, at night there was this feeling, but it drifted away. And then when my uncle died, I was just angry.” My voice raises at the thought, my breathing coming in faster.
Sitting back into my seat, I look at him and feel as if I should feel ashamed, but I’m not.
“Angry?” he questions.
“Yeah. I was angry. It wasn’t fair that I was stuck here.” Emotions threaten to come up at my admission. I loved my uncle and he’d passed only two years ago, right before I graduated high school. I was old enough to take the shit debt he left behind. “I know it’s not his fault; he wanted better for me…”
I don’t finish that line of thinking. “The point is, I thought I was done with all of this. For the first time in so long, I was fine.”
“You were relying on yourself. So, of course, you were fine.” Sebastian sounds confident in his response, but he doesn’t get it. Parts of me are so thoroughly broken that even the idea I have to rely on myself is horrifying. Rebecca used to say it was understandable after the trauma I’d been through. What she called trauma, I just called my childhood. No wonder I turned to books and writing to help me cope. Getting lost in my stories was a lot more enjoyable than facing reality.
“Everyone needs someone,” I answer him, holding his gaze and praying he can feel what I mean. That he can know how deeply settled I am in that decision.
“You didn’t have a someone, and you were fine.”
I almost answer him with, I didn’t say everyonedeservessomeone. Almost. But I decide to swallow it down. I sure as hell don’t want his pity.
