Chapter 6: CHAPTER 6: Damsel In Distress
After everything happened in my life since I was a kid, I thought I could beat anything and anyone. I accepted being weak and I embraced myself in my most vulnerable moments. I feared death but at the same time I wanted a different life, in fact I wanted to make my life different.
But in that moment, I did want to take my own life; I didn't see any purpose of my living anymore. I lost all purpose, as if I ever had any.
Actually, I thought this way ever since he decided that I'm no longer good for him.
Even now I still think about suicide.
Unconsciously, floating above waters of oblivion and distant memories, forbidden from drowning yet unable to move. All I see is darkness, I feel completely disconnect of my physical form, embraced by a world of the unseen and the untouched.
Part of me wants to let go of whatever is left of me and stay in the nothingness, but something else is reaching for me, pulling me towards it, the more I focus on it, the less I consider letting go.
Still, there is a comforting calm in here making want to stay and not worry about anything anymore. Then I hear someone calling me from far away, I can't know its whereabouts but it is becoming clear as I think about it more, and I hear "Wake up! WAKE UP! Jessica I'm here wake up".
I am slowly feeling myself coming to my senses again; I open my eyes, confused and trying to identify the place and the man who's holding me in his arms. He smiles, mumbling some words that I don't really hear. I stare at his face so closely. Andrew. It's him. He's here.
"Why are you here?" I ask him.
My voice comes out weak, he looks stunned at my question, I know it was rude but I didn't know what else to say, plus my hand is hurting me pretty bad.
"What do you mean? I got to your apartment and I found blood all over the place and it was clearly YOUR blood" he says, pointing at my hand. I'm thinking of denying, but he already saw everything, I want to make up a lie, though I still feel out of place.
"I looked for you for hours, I thought something happened to you and I couldn't stop picturing the blood and broken glass I saw back in your house" he stops talking, trying to study my face and I don't know what he sees. However, he does look concerned.
" Tell me what happened, what's wrong. Why did you hurt yourself" he says, with his hand on my cheek.
I'm still lying on the ground in his arms. We're in a dark empty alley; I obviously fainted due to blood loss.
I'm so tired and the pain won't stop that I'm sure I did broke my hand. It's throbbing for real.
I try to sit straight; he helps me to do so though I don't really need his help, but to avoid his questions I'll have to play Damsel in Distress.
"I just want to go home and sleep. Can we go?" I say with a tired voice. I know I'm his weak point, he can't see me like this. So I always act vulnerable in these situations, so he can leave me be. "Please, Andrew. I am so tired" I add, almost crying.
"Okay, let's go home" he says, with a guilty tone. He helps me stand and all the way to the car, which is three or four steps away but of course Andrew will be always Andrew.
The ride home was silent, neither of us tries to talk and honestly there wasn't much to say. He kept sneaking some glances on me to see if I'm alright. I was pretending to pay attention to the road, to not lock eyes with him.
I remembered a poem I've read before.
'What I loved most about us
Was the way we could
Lose ourselves
In each other
Over and over
And still
Never know the way.
You always felt like
A place I'd never been.'
I thought about it the whole way. It's true, I still never know the way out of it; out of the moments we shared together.
It only takes one word or a smell or a place we'd been before to trigger all the memories back to my head, and they're so vivid to the point I confuse the reality with the memory.
We went to my house, I took a shower. He cleaned my hand and stitched the cuts and he put a non-stick bandage. Now I'm in bed eating a sandwich that he made for me, while he's watching me.
I hate to be stared at, especially if I'm eating because it makes me anxious. Actually, I have that thing; I can't eat comfortably in public. I feel like everybody is looking at me and at the way I eat, I know it's not real but still I can't just unfeel it. So I stop eating and put the plate on the side table beside me.
Andrew leans in to reach for the plate, obviously to take it to the kitchen. But I grab his hands, unsure of what to say.
"You don't have to do this" I say, he looks confused, like he doesn't know what I'm talking about "This. Taking care of me", I add.
"But I like taking care of you, not that you need me, it's just....it's just my way to show my love to you" he explains with a shy smile, not looking in my eyes.
No matter what I'm thinking right now, it won't matter anymore, if he touches me and if he puts his body on me.
"There are more ways to show me your love, you know" I say, biting my lower lip while holding his gaze.
He comes closer, putting his hand on the back of my head and at once our lips meet, not very softly but in a sensually passionate way.
That does its magic as always, I'm already forgetting about the sadness and reality. Although these sensations are more real to me than anything ever could be.
"I love you" he assures me, between kisses.
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Note:
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BlackIs_TheRealist Hello readers! I'm working on the playlist of this story. Next chapter I'll share it with you.
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