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“Thank you,” she says and takes a sip.
I sit on the chair beside hers. Indigo’s usual glow to her skin is gone, and she looks paler than normal. The fluffy white blanket which was wrapped around her slides off shoulders. Her emotions are tangible, physically affecting her appearance, and it makes my chest burn.
“Can I ask you a personal question?”
She sips on the hot chocolate before taking a deep breath. “Yes.”
“Why do you keep in touch with your family when they’re so cruel to you?” I inquire.
“I don’t know,” she admits, and that surprises me. How can you not know?
I rest a hand on her thigh, gently caressing it. “You know you don’t have to put up with that, right? You could cut them off and nobody would think less of you for it.”
“I know, but I seek their approval. I seekherapproval. And it’s not always so bad. My mom started going to therapy recently, and although she still has outbursts, she’s gotten better.”
I frown. “Just because she’s trying to do better, doesn’t mean you need to put yourself in unhealthy situations while she works on herself. You’re her daughter, not her punching bag.”
“I know, I know. Alitha and Dahlia tell me all the time.”
“You should set some boundaries,” I tell her.
“Okay, Simone.”
“Huh?”
She laughs and places her cup down on the glass table. “My therapist. She’s always talking about boundaries. I started going to her because I think I have an anxiety disorder, and she agrees, but we’re still not certain which one yet. It’s kind of a new thing.”
I smile at her transparency, and she scrunches her nose.
“I graduated from therapy a few years ago,” I confess. It’s not something I’m sure I’ve ever told anyone, but if there’s ever a time, it feels like it should be now.
“Youwent to therapy? Andgraduated? Damn, I must be in the kindergarten phase.”
My brows scrunch. “What—did you not expect that? All graduating therapy means is that I’ve learned the strategies necessary, and at least for now, I don’t need a clinician.”
“I guess that makes sense. You just seem so… perfect? Hot?” she says teasingly.
“There’s a reason the phrase is hot and bothered,” I say with a smirk.
She punches my shoulder. It’s barely a tap, but it’s cute.
“Don’t think that I’m perfect. I mean, youcanthink that, but I hope you know that I come with my own set of baggage too,” I say. “I’m obsessive, addicted to working out, and my sex drive is naturally higher than humans.”
“I know, I know. But literally nothing you listed was negative. Try again.” She giggles and rolls her eyes. We’re speaking in jest, but she’s still guarded. Arms crossed, there’s a level of openness I can’t seem to get her to reach with me. Maybe if I open up more, she’ll feel comfortable enough to do the same. I want to be that person for her.
“I used to struggle with depression. And abandonment issues. That’s what I went to therapy for.” I shrug. I still struggle with the abandonment part, but that truth remains unsaid. I don’t want to pressure Indigo into making this real because she feels sorry for me. I want her to make this real because she can’t stand the thought of me being with someone other than her. Because I can’t stand that thought right now either.
“I’m sorry.” She places her hand on my cheek, softly cupping it.
“Can I hold you?”
“Please.”
* * *
Beige limbs tangle with mine as I hold Indigo closely, her face resting against my chest. She snores softly, and I kiss her forehead as my eyelids grow heavy.Goodnight, little rabbit.
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