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He looked down at his chest with the tiniest of grins playing at his lips.
“Doesn’t matter. It’ll be dry in a few minutes. Do you feel better?”
Throwing my hands up in the air, I shook my head in exasperation.
“Stop worrying for me, please. God, I’m a horrible friend.” I cringed inwardly at the word before rambling on. “I should have been comforting you. Damn it, I’m so mad at myself.”
Stamping my foot on the floor helped get the frustration moving. Roy bit his lips, plainly trying his best not to smile.
“Why don’t we just comfort each other?” he suggested.
“That’s not how it works.” I hated how whiny my voice sounded. I was always the strong one, the badass, picking up everybody’s slack and lifting the people around me up.
Why can’t I be that person for him?
“You sure? Wanna give it a try?”
And why is he holding me up?
“Fine,” I relented, desperate for another hug.
Sitting down on the couch, he leaned back and patted his chest, inviting me to settle on him.
Are we talking about the same kind of comfort, tiger boy?
Still I straddled his lap, wrapped my arms around his neck and plastered myself to his body.
“That’s good.” Nuzzling his face into my hair, he took a deep breath, easily lifting me up, then released it slowly. “I wanted to get one of those weighted blankets, but you feel much nicer.”
“Glad to be of assistance, I guess?”
He ignored me.
“What do you say? Is this mutual comfort experiment working?”
“I think so.” The spicy cologne he wore mixed with his unique scent had a grounding effect, his hard body under mine not so much.
“Thanks.”
“For what?” Roy asked, rubbing his cheek over my brow.
“Your honesty. I’m sorry I started crying. I had a shitty day and hearing you doubting yourself like that overwhelmed me for a minute. Sometimes it gets pretty loud in my head. The feelings pile up and I can’t get them moving out of me.”
“Hence the stomping?”
“Yeah. It helps. Slamming a door shut does, too. But you were opening up to me and I made you feel like you needed to comfort me when I should have been there for you. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. It didn’t feel at all like that. In here,” he tapped a finger to his head, “I know the stuff I said isn’t true. But it sucks when someone you like talks about themselves like that. I get it. Everything that happened with…her, it’s ingrained in me, and my first impulse is trying to pacify, to de-escalate, you know?”
“Yeah, it’s this learned pattern, like a beaten path and your job is to find new ones.”
He laughed in surprise. “That’s exactly what it feels like.”
“My mum’s a therapist. She went a bit overboard at times when one of us needed a talking-to.”
We were quiet for a long time, holding onto each other, with my whole weight pressing down on his chest.
I take my job as a weighted blanket very seriously.
