HE WAS FALLING IN LOVE WITH ME
My eyes closed, leading me back to Hell House. I couldn't escape. Through the wreckage, I couldn't find a way to the door. My mind rioted, begging me to stay inside my cage. I could still hear Carter, telling me he was falling in love with me.
I felt his bare skin beneath the palm of my hand. The warmth of his body settled my panic, and while I lay here, I wondered how much of last night he'd remember. I could still smell the whiskey on his breath. It reminded me too much of dad, but I felt safe wrapped in Carter's arms. When he said he wouldn't hurt me, even in his drunk state of mind, I believed him.
Before he woke, I slipped from the mattress. I didn't want him to wake up without something for his headache or electrolytes to cure his hangover. So, I turned back one last time, looking at the boy who looked to be peaceful and watched him cuddle closer to the pillow before leaving.
I stepped into the bathroom, and as I threw Carter's dirty clothes from last night into the hamper, I waited for the shower water to heat up. I could smell the alcohol on myself.
Just as my body stepped beneath the stream, I felt the aching in my neck disappear. The tension disappeared. I tried not to think about last night, but Carter's words kept floating through my head, and I couldn't stop overanalyzing everything he said. His mom is back in town. He hasn't talked to his dad in a very long time. He's been sober for two years. He's still trying to convince himself he's enough.
He also said he thinks he's falling in love with me.
I brushed it off. Because we're two people struggling with being loved. I look down at the scars on my body and realize he's gonna ask questions when he peels my clothes off.
I let out a sigh as the water got cold, and as I stepped out of the shower, I realized I hadn't brought a change of clothes. So, I checked the hallway before sliding out of the bathroom.
My feet cautiously moved against the hardwood floor as I hurried toward my bedroom.
"Sawyer?"
My heart flipped at the sound of Carter's voice. I turned to see him standing in the doorway of his bedroom, rubbing his eyes. I hid my back against the wall, hoping he didn't see the lines of demarcation on my skin.
"Are you coming back to bed?" He mumbled.
"Yeah," I nodded. "I just need to get clothes – "
"Wear something of mine," he interrupted. "Just come back, please."
I couldn't say no when his fingers wrapped around mine. I just followed. The night was still young. The clock on his bedside table says four a.m.
He shifted through his closet before turning to me with a pair of clothes in his hands.
"Can you turn around, please?"
He didn't hesitate to turn his back to me, allowing me the privacy to change into his clothes. The oversized t-shirt felt like heaven on my body. My fingers glided over the cotton sweatpants, loving how they felt against my skin.
"I'm done," I murmured.
I watched him spin around. His eyes traveled my body as if he was trying to get familiar with every inch. Just as the corners of his lips tugged upward, he walked toward me.
"This was completely unexpected."
I cocked my head to the side. "What are you talking about?"
"I didn't think you could any more beautiful," he pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "Get covered up. I need to shower really quick, okay?"
I slipped beneath his covers, feeling the warmth capture my body within its grip, begging me never to leave. It felt like home. Something I didn't know too much about, but I think I'm starting to understand it.
As I stared at the ceiling, listening to Carter's box fan struggle to keep up with the wind whipping through the windows, I waited for his return.
The words in my head would come and go. I didn't know how much time passed before I felt the bed dip, and Carter's face was hovering over mine as he brushed his fingers across my cheek.
He stared at me like I was something worth keeping but the worry in his eyes told me he thought I was something he'd lose.
"I'm sorry," he kept looking everywhere but at me.
My fingers rested over his. "For what?"
"I'm the reason for tonight's nightmare."
"That wasn't your fault."
A heavy breath tumbled from his lips. "I shouldn't have drank, and you shouldn't have taken care of me."
"You told me why you did it."
His body went stiff, and I almost regretted bringing it up. "I know."
"It's okay to hurt."
He fell to the space beside me. "What if I see her?"
"Do you want to?"
"I want answers. I want to know why she left," he looked at the ceiling like it'd give him what he was looking for. "I want to know if she thought about taking me with. Or did she ever love me as much as I thought she did?"
I rested my palm over his chest. "What does your dad say about it?"
"He sent me to a fucking therapist, so he never had to say anything."
"A therapist? Because you asked questions about your mom?"
"No," his head moved back and forth. "He sent me to a therapist because I started doing bad shit."
"It can't be that bad."
I watched his throat bob as if he was swallowing down words that'd make him relive his childhood. "It's nothing I want you to know."
"Carter – "
"No, Sawyer. I've worked so hard to get to where I'm at. I'm not the same guy anymore, and I don't want you to think I am because of one mistake."
It rendered me speechless. I rested my head on the chest of a boy I'd give my heart up to without question, wondering why he'd think I'd judge him for his past. It made me question if he didn't want me to know because he thought it'd give me a reason to leave.
"You don't owe anybody your story, Carter," I brushed my fingers over his bare chest. "There is a part of every story that doesn't get told. I just want you to find your peace."
He tugged me closer to his side. "What if I have?"
"Then I hope you never lose it."
His whisper filled the room. "Then don't ever leave me."