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The wind is cool against the thin material of the jacket Daryn let me use. My feet are also cold on the grass, but it’s definitely refreshing. Grounding in a way.
Upon hearing the deep base of the music, I swallow harshly. They were right about me panicking with music, but I have to remind myself that I’m not alone and not stuck in that room. I have free range of this house and am able to do whatever I please. Living a life in fear isn’t living at all.
With slow, sure steps, I inch myself toward the door more and more. A hand landing on my lower back startles me, and I nearly put a fist in Prez’s face. He doesn’t flinch, simply grabbing my flying hand and bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.
“I got you,” he whispers and leans his forehead against mine. We stand there for several moments, soaking in one another before he finally pulls back. Tornado and Knuckles linger behind him with their hands shoved in their pockets. No one says anything, just waiting for me to make my move. Deciding that enough is enough, I square my shoulders, tangle my fingers with his, and step inside the house.
I immediately want to cower into myself, but Prez drags me behind him toward the staircase and away from the music. We don’t linger around even when Tornado and Knuckles stop to speak with Daryn.
Once we get to the room, he unlocks the door and pushes it open. I hesitate. There’s a perfect amount of noise from the hallway right here, but I know the second I walk into that room, the silence may be too loud for me.
“I will turn on the TV for some background noise,” Prez says as though he read my mind. Walking ahead of me, I wait until there’s something playing before entering hesitantly. The anxiety inside of me is overwhelming, and I never imagined I would be scared of silence. Especially since silence used to be my best friend, I can’t get far enough away from it right now.
The lump in my throat threatens to stay right where it’s at, not giving me any sense of reprieve as I familiarize myself with my surroundings.
“Do you want anything to drink?” He asks, pouring himself a dark liquor, I’m going to assume it’s whiskey.
“Uhm, sure.” I swallow again, hoping to get rid of the giant thing stuck in my throat. It doesn’t budge. He extends a glass that has about a finger worth of liquid inside and shoot it back. The burn feels amazing against the dryness, the soreness of my muscles being erased already.
“It’s good to have you back,” he mutters awkwardly, staring into his glass and avoiding eye contact. All I can do is nod, unsure of what to say.
That’s not exactly true. I know what I want to say. It’s a matter of getting it out of my voice box and into the open air that is the problem.
I want to scream from the rooftops that I finally understand what they meant about loving someone. It’s an odd feeling, the sudden realization of what being in love with someone means. The previous experience didn’t work out too great for me, so I shut myself out. Made myself ice cold to the world and refused to give anything to anyone besides simple friendship.
Somehow Knuckles managed to wiggle his way into my heart further and further before I realized he got out of the friendzone. My hesitation of Tornado was immediate, but I saw what he was trying to do when he realized that Heckles wasn’t who was supposed to be there. I will have to talk to him about what he was fucking thinking, but even still…my heart doesn’t know if it can move on without him.
Then, there’s Prez. He caught me off guard more than any of them. Being around him has always been easy, never worried about a power struggle or who does what. We simply co-exist and make it work. We balance our strengths with each other's weaknesses. Since the day he walked in on me doing the deed on myself, I haven’t been able to make the mental images of him go away. Feelings followed quickly after that, and I realized that we were more alike than I realized. He brings out the best in me, forces me to think outside the box…
“It’s good to be back,” I smile, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. Doing that reminds me of the lack of a shower I have had and how awful I must smell. “Do you mind if I…” I thumb toward the shower.
He nods, clearing his throat. “Yeah, of course. Uhm, the faucet in the shower is backwards, so hot is cold and cold is hot.” It’s awkward for a few moments longer before I bite the bullet and walk away.
The door shuts softly behind me, and I hesitate on whether to lock the door or not. After debating for a few seconds, I decide to leave it unlocked. Some small part of me hopes that he will join me. A larger, more logical part of me knows that he won’t.
Turning on the water the way he said to, I strip out of my dirty leather pants and top. The material is practically glued on my body after sitting in them for so long with little reprieve. Deliberating with myself, we collectively agree to ask for help. I can’t stoop much lower than I already have, so having him peel off my soiled leather pants can’t be that bad.
Scratch that, I would rather cut them off and buy a whole new pair.
A knock on the door startles me from my internal debacle.
“You alright?” He calls through the door, testing the handle. The internal alarms start blaring, but I can’t get myself to call out to him to get him to stop. So, with one final twist, he slowly opens the door and sees me standing there partially nude. He gawks for a moment, heat blazing in his eyes before he realizes that I’m staring right back at him. Spinning around, neither one of us says anything. His breathing is suddenly labored, while I can’t voice the fact that I’m freaking stuck in my pants.
“I, uhm.” The blush on my cheeks get even deeper. “I could use a hand.” He nods, slowly turning back around. I can’t look at him in fear of the expression, so I keep my gaze on the floor. His boots come into view, and his thumb and finger pinch my chin. Tilting my head up, his eyes bore into mine. There’s heat, passion, and…guilt?
He lets his hand fall away as he assists me in unpeeling myself from my pants. Not saying a word, making a face, or anything, he simply helps. He doesn’t question me, doesn’t ask me how things were while I was away. No pressure on what I’m feeling or how I’m taking being back. It’s exactly how we were before this all happened. We just exist together. Except now we have the story of him getting me out of clothing in a non-romantic way.
“We have so much to talk about, but I just want to hold you. Can I?” He asks, standing fully and keeping me locked in his gaze. I can’t form words, so I nod.
He strips down to his boxers, guiding me into the shower stall and curling me in his arms. There is a sense of warmth and protection I didn’t expect. I mean, I knew he was capable, but I just didn’t see this coming. The feeling as if I have been lost until this moment. Having been guided away from my destination, only to find the north star and it bringing me home.
With that feeling comes protection. I have never been one to ask for protection or beg for someone to save me. I didn’t think I needed it. Not until the moment of realization that I wouldn’t be able to escape on my own. Even then, I didn’t beg. Being with the guys has made me realize that I don’t even need to ask. All I have to do is look at them, and they would willingly jump in front of a bullet for me.
Leaning my head on his shoulder, the warmth of the water cascades around us. My eyes close on their own accord, and I stand there in the white-noised silence. Serenity.
Everything slams into me all at once, and there’s no stopping the emotions that follow. My eyes burn with unshed tears. Before long, they are streaking down my cheeks and onto his shoulders. The water washes them away, but he’s not stupid. With the shaking of my shoulders and the silent sobs wracking my body, he knows.
His fingers comb the ends of my hair, but he doesn’t say anything. He just holds me, knowing that I need someone to keep my pieces together for once.
