Chapter 15 #2
He tilted his head, grinning at me. “I’m glad to see you’ve decided to greet me properly. Can I come in?”
Rolling my eyes, I turned around and made my way to the couch. I heard the lock click as he closed and locked the door behind him. “I could be an asshole again, if you prefer.”
“No, this is fine. I like seeing you smile. Especially when you’re smiling while looking at me.”
“Don’t get so full of yourself, now.” I grabbed the remote, turning the TV on just to have some background noise.
My arms pebbled with goosebumps, the apartment colder than it had been earlier.
I felt more comfortable with Emerson seeing my neck than I was with the vast general public, so I was wearing short sleeves.
Instead of turning the heat on, though, I grabbed the blanket closest to me.
Emerson sat down next to me, the couch dipping as it took his full weight. “I think we’re past the full of myself part. How was your day?”
I took in a deep breath, filling my lungs in hopes it’d give a barrier to my heart. I wasn’t sure how honest I wanted to be.
“That bad?”
Turning my head, I frowned. “I haven’t even said anything yet.”
“You don’t have to. I can see it all over your face. And the fact that you’re thinking about it so hard usually implies it wasn’t all that great.”
“Hm.” I shook my head, sighing. “I talked to Star.”
Emerson pulled his legs up onto the couch. “Yeah? How’d that go?”
“Oh, you know. I’m too overbearing and overprotective, and apparently always have been.
And then my brothers confirmed it. I get it, though.
Somewhat. They made some good points. So I apologized to her, promised to back off, and I’ll be calling her tomorrow after she goes to her last class to talk. ”
“She has to walk her own path, Moon. I know that’s hard to understand or accept, especially as a big brother. I’m glad she’s going to talk to you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, me too. I just feel bad. Awful, really. Like a shitty person. I worry so much, you know?” I pulled the blanket around my shoulders, hugging it tight against me. “The world is big and scary. I don’t want any of them to know just how big and scary it is, though.”
Emerson turned his head toward the TV, fully leaning against the back of the couch. “But you know just how big and scary it is, right? Someone hurt you, Jude hurt Elio, and you don’t want Star or Crescent to know how that feels.”
My lungs forgot how to function, my diaphragm completely stopping for a moment. I stared at his profile, my heart racing as I traced his beard. “What do you mean, someone hurt me?”
“That night, when you called me, you said you’ve been broken since you were fifteen. Am I wrong in assuming someone made you feel that way, or was it you who made you feel that way?”
He turned his head, locking eyes with me.
I wanted to look away. I didn’t want to see that he knew me.
That he’d seen into my soul, and I’d shown it to him willingly.
Was I breathing faster? Or was it him? Someone was breathing faster, and my chest felt tighter.
I cleared my throat and raised my head up. “No one hurt me.”
There was a pause. A beat of silence I reached out for, wanting to grasp it in my palms and tear it to shreds. I watched his lips as he spoke, watching them mouth the words almost in slow motion. “Are you lying to me, or yourself?”
To him, or to myself? To him, or to myself? I didn’t know. I never wanted to remember, but I did. I always fucking did. I could smell it. I could smell the room, hear the music—I could feel their eyes on me.
“Alright, time to get up.” Emerson stood, holding his hands out to me.
I looked up, confused. I wanted to ask him what he meant. I wanted to ask him why. But nothing came out except harsh breaths as his image in my vision started to go blurry, swimming back and forth between a time and place that didn’t exist and this one.
He leaned down slowly, grasping both my hands away from my blanket, and pulled. I went with him. I knew I did, but I couldn’t feel my body do it. Everything felt too numb, like I was walking on air rather than ground.
Emerson turned, grabbing the remote, switching it to a different channel. Music played in the background, though I couldn’t make any of it out. It seemed slow, though. He pulled my arms up and placed them on his shoulders, placing his hands on my waist. “Just move with me. Move to the beat, okay?”
I sucked in a breath, glancing around the room, trying to find something that made sense. Nothing made sense. Everything was dark. I could smell perfume and shitty whiskey. So much shitty whiskey. “I can’t. I can’t hear a beat. I can’t hear it.”
“Then just follow me, okay? I got you. I’m holding you. I’m here.”
Slowly, he led us to some sort of dance. I was even more confused than I had been before, looking down at our feet. Mine knew what to do, it seemed, because they were following his as we swayed.
“That’s it, Moon. I’m here. I’ve got you. It’s just me and you, alright? Just me and you. In your apartment. Slow dancing to some music. You’re okay.”
I looked up at him, watching him through teary eyes. “Promise?”
He leaned forward, placing the softest, gentlest kiss on my lips. “I promise.”
A glow formed, outlining his shoulders, his neck, his head, all the way back down to the tips of his toes.
Emerson was light personified. I focused on him—on the light—as I took deep breaths when he did, let them out when he did, and moved my feet when he did.
The TV was playing an old music video with an old slow song of some sort.
It was easy to move to, especially with Emerson guiding me.
He grasped the side of my face, stopping us where we stood. He looked straight into my eyes and smiled. “There’s my brat.”
I looked between both of his eyes, getting lost in the dark blue ocean of them. I wanted to be there, to swim against the current in peace. “Why are we dancing?” I whispered.
“You were having a panic attack. When I get worked up, moving around helps me. This was the best thing I could think of.”
“That’s kind of weird.”
“Well, it worked, didn’t it?”
I wrapped my arms around him and lay my head against the middle of his chest. “Yeah, I guess it did.”
This time, I was able to feel my body move with him as we swayed in circles. I listened to his heartbeat through his shirt, counting each one in my head. It was my favorite part about cuddling with him—getting to listen to the life inside of him. Listening to each breath he took.
If I could stay there forever, I would. I’d never felt so cared for as at that moment. We were in sync without any effort, dancing in my living room like nothing else existed or mattered. It was just us.
My voice was shakier than I’d like it to be, but I spoke anyway. I let it out, even if I wasn’t sure future me would like it. I’d probably regret it later. “Someone hurt me. A lot. More than once.”
He rubbed a hand up and down my back in soothing motions.
He pressed a kiss to the top of my head, lingering for a moment.
“I’m so sorry, Moon. I’m so sorry someone so awful existed.
I’m so sorry you’ve thought something was wrong with you when you are quite literally perfect to me.
There is nothing broken. There is nothing to fix. You are fucking perfect.”
A tear fell down my cheek, curving just under my jaw. “I’m not perfect. I’m a brat.”
“I like brats, remember?”
“Something has to be wrong with me. Why else would she have done it?”
“Because there’s something wrong with her, not you. Never you, Moon.”
“It still hurts all these years later.”
“I know.”
I pulled away from him, staring up at the bright, shining glow he emitted. “Will you still hold all of my pieces together, anyway?”
“Of course I will. I’ll hold you so tight for as long as you want until you can believe that your pieces already fit. Because they do. You just can’t see that yet.” He held my face, swiping his thumb across the stray tears dripping down my cheeks.
As we stood there in my living room, holding each other, I started to think that maybe my pieces needed his pieces to be complete. Maybe we were all a giant puzzle, left waiting for the one centerpiece we had left. With that piece, with that person, we’d finally be able to see the big picture.
And maybe, just maybe, that picture would be fucking beautiful.