Chapter 33 #3
It was easier to rest in that pain than pointlessly try to get rid of it. She was used to things feeling awful. To her life being a messy collage of shameful decisions. Those moments were tangible, in a way. She could blame herself for them.
Simple, in contrast. Simpler than addressing the thorny ball she’d been carrying around for as long as she could remember.
One that had grown with every look of disappointment, every demand that she do better, every reminder that she wasn’t good enough.
Numbness was the only way to dull its effects, so she’d sought it out whenever she could.
Even if it had destructive consequences.
But Maya had withstood all of that. Maya, who was kind and decent. Who had always treated her like she was precious, when Harper had gone her whole life believing she wasn’t worthy of that type of adoration.
When she’d done all of that, Harper could give her this. Even if she didn’t quite believe it.
“I’m not stupid,” she whispered, her voice retreating as soon as the words were out.
They went against every childhood memory. Against every accepted truth. Against every instance of praise passing her by, because who would celebrate someone whose absolute best was just average?
What if that wasn’t true? What if her struggling hadn’t been her fault? How different would her life have been if her parents hadn’t dismissed her as a failure? If they had, even once, seen her as a troubled child in need of help rather than a problem to be fixed?
Maya caressed her chin. “Harper?”
It might be the gentlest way her name had ever been spoken. The most loving noise she’d ever heard, and though she tried answering, she couldn’t. She couldn’t speak at all.
Maya gave her a gentle smile. “You lost your voice. Didn’t you?”
She couldn’t respond. She just sat there, as tears dripped onto her thighs.
“Shake your head yes or no.” Maya closed her hand around Harper’s fingers, intertwining them. “Do you still want to stop?”
Everything inside her was on the verge of collapsing. Maya touching her, holding onto her, might be the only reason it hadn’t yet.
She shook her head.
Maya paused, considering. Then she undid the belt-cuff and tossed it away.
“If you need to stop, tap my skin. I’ll notice. I promise.”
Harper believed her. Down to the very depths of her soul, she believed her. Believed every promise, every kind touch, every word she’d ever said, be it those voiced just then or in any moment before the present.
“I know this is hard.” Maya guided her closer, a single finger under her chin, drawing their lips together. “Right now, just do whatever you need to do. Even if it is to scream at me, or hit me, or get angry. Feel whatever you need to feel.”
Even if Harper could have spoken, she wouldn’t have known what to say to that. She didn’t know what she was feeling or needed to feel.
Everything seemed so fragile right then. One firm hit would make it all fall apart, and if it did, she wouldn’t know how to put the pieces back together.
But Maya did. The way her hands moved made that obvious. Brushing over her thighs, her waist, her ribs. The sides of her breasts. An exploratory touch, as though it was the first time Harper had ever been touched this intimately.
A choked sob escaped, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
This was too much. Already, it was too much. If she let herself feel this pain, it wouldn’t just wreck her. It would swallow her whole, leaving her as a gasping, crying mess.
“Harper, look at me.”
Maya’s voice was still so gentle. Why was it gentle? Why couldn’t she just do this the familiar way, for fucking once?
Why did something that was supposed to be easy have to be this difficult?
She forced her eyes open, finding Maya’s gaze resting on her.
“What do you need right now?”
Too much. Not enough. To make sense of these painful feelings and to understand the true meaning of memories that had suddenly been reframed.
But that was all intangible. Her hands were already seeking her most heart-aching desire.
You.
Harper cupped Maya’s face and kissed her. A hard kiss that tasted of tears. One she whimpered into, as her voice refused to assist.
I want you to hold me. Please hold me. And never let me go.
Maya pulled her close, deepening the kiss. Her hands brushed over her hips, a finger following the hem of her underwear.
“Are you sure?” Maya asked.
Harper nodded, her breath trembling now.
She wanted it desperately. Unlike whatever this was, sex was a game she was actually confident with. It was what she knew. What she was good at. And even though this didn’t feel like their previous times, or any time, it still felt safest.
Maya eased her hand into Harper’s underwear. Between her legs. Brushing over her clit, and then circling.
Harper sighed against her mouth. There was barely any pressure behind the touch. As though she would shatter if handled with anything but perfect tenderness. It followed such a slow, careful rhythm that it felt like her body had transformed into an instrument only Maya knew how to play.
Part of Harper wanted to stay just like this. In this safe stage, filled with sighs rather than moans. But as gentle as Maya’s touch was, it was also constant. Building and building, creating a pocket of pressure beneath the one filling her chest.
Tension formed between her legs, but it wasn’t in that sudden, fire-like way she was used to. This pleasure wasn’t the hard, rough kind she had pursued all her life, because it being fun was easier to handle than this level of intimacy.
She moaned, and it came out shaking. The tension expanded. It kept growing. Slowly, but still growing.
Her nails dug into Maya’s shoulders. She was about to fall. Could feel it coming. She was so close, even though she shouldn’t be. Such a light touch shouldn’t have that effect.
This wasn’t like any other time before. It was more. Strange, unknown, and thereby terrifying, and it needed to be forced down. To be hidden deep inside herself where it could be buried before it ruined her from within.
“Relax,” Maya whispered. “Let go. Let it all go. I’ll catch you. I promise.”
She ran her free hand down Harper’s spine. A caress that increased the tension between her legs so much that it hurt to resist.
She couldn’t help it. Not against that voice. That coaxing, sweet touch.
Harper relaxed, and the snapping sensation that went through her body was scarily literal.
It hit in a rush, firing through her legs, her stomach, all the way to her fingertips.
It sliced through the knot in her chest and the decade of shame that had shaped it, cutting it to scattered pieces.
She clung to Maya as the orgasm soared through her, moving with unrelenting intensity.
As her body broke.
Her moans came out as sobs. Gasping, heaving sobs that she couldn’t do anything to hide. Even if she could have made them silent, her sudden shaking would have given her away.
“It’s okay. You’re okay.” Maya hugged her close, and Harper buried her face against her neck. “I know this hurts. We don’t need to talk right now. Just rest.”
It was impossible to do that. Not talk or rest. The sobs tearing through her were too violent to allow either.
But as painful as it was, she felt lighter. It was like she’d been dragging this outburst around her whole life, with it growing more immense every day it was ignored, and now that it was let out, she just felt… weightless.
Harper had never understood what the term ‘making love’ really meant. She’d always considered it something reserved for mushy romantics who had a habit of exaggerating things.
In that moment, she understood. In that moment, when nestled in a careful embrace, listening to Maya whisper praise against her hair.
To accurately describe what this was, no other term made sense.