Avalon
larke still had her back to the door when I entered the bathroom; after slipping out of my own somewhat damp clothes, I stepped into the water behind her.
Almost instantly, she settled into my body, leaning her back against my chest. Her hair was cold and tickled the end of my nose, but I didn’t mind. I couldn’t have cared less, honestly.
“You came back,” she said absentmindedly, running circles over my exposed knee.
“I said I would,” I replied and took one of the washcloths I had found upstairs. After squeezing some lavender scented body wash into it and lathering with water, I gently began scrubbing the other girl’s back.
I worked in silence, surprised that she hadn’t given me some smart retort of how she was capable of washing herself. It was more than likely due to the fact that she was down right exhausted, too weak to protest.
“Thank you,” she murmured quietly, turning around to face me. I paused my scrubbing, a floppy smile breaking across my face.
“I consider it an honor.”
“I hit you,” she frowned, blinking rapidly. “Several times, too many times.” Her eyes wandered from mine and down my face and neck, stopping at my shoulder. Reaching out, Clarke gently touched the area, her frown deepening as I winced.
“You’re hurt—I hurt you.” Clarke’s eyes snapped up to mine and her lip trembled, tears threatening to fall down her cheeks again. “I’m so sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking or-or doing—“
I placed my hand over her wrist, pulling it back onto my bare skin. I liked the feeling of her touch, it was something I would choose over and over again.
“Clarke, it’s okay,” I told her through a half smile. “I wouldn’t have stood there if I wasn’t okay with it, alright? So don’t beat yourself up about it.”
“No, no, no; but the things I said,” she cried again, trying to pull her hand free from my grasp but I only tightened my hold on her. “I blamed you but I didn’t mean it, not a single bit. I’m sorry—“
I laughed, dipping my head to kiss her, cutting off the rest of her stupid apology. Her body stiffened in surprise before relaxing and giving into the kiss; when I pulled back, her eyes were large and curious.
“What was that for?”
I sat back and leaned against the base of the bathtub, a satisfied smile on my lips again. “Felt like the only way to get you to shut up,” I laughed out as she swatted at me.
“That’s not funny; I’m trying to apologize—“
I cupped her face with my other hand, my thumb brushing away any stray tears that had managed to escape her eyes. “And I’m telling you I don’t want or need your apology. You did nothing wrong, you hear me?”
I waited for her to nod, for it to finally sink in and click before continuing. “Your anger, pain, and exhaustion is valid. You did nothing wrong.”
Clarke leaned into my palm, slowly letting her eyes close as she sniffed and nodded again. Inhaling deeply through her nose, she exhaled through her mouth. “Thank you,” she quietly whispered, gently kissing the inside of my hand.
I placed a kiss on her forehead in answer, pulling her into my arms. We sat there in the water, Clarke’s arms around my torso and my arms around her. In the silence and steadily growing cold water, deep in our own thoughts, neither of us at all eager to break our embrace.
“You know,” Clarke began quietly, her fingers drawing light circles on my back. “When I was little and Melody was just a baby, my parents almost named her Hope. Mama had suffered from multiple back to back stillbirths, and it…destroyed her—almost tore our family apart.
“And then Mells was born and it was as if there was this light and hope in her eyes again. Every time she cried, even if it was in the dead of morning, Mama was always right there.” I felt her smile against my skin.
“It’s been so long since I’ve heard a baby cry, she would say.
“The sweetest melody.” Over and over again, just repeating those words. The sweetest melody.”
Clarke buried her face into my chest, her touch no longer soft but desperate. “I don’t know how she’s going to handle losing her songbird, Avalon.”
“Shh, shh,” I cooed, running my hand over the back of her head. “It’s going to be okay.” I tried my best to sound convincing, believable, but I could hear the doubtful shake in my voice.
“No, it’s not,” she sobbed into me and pulled herself onto my lap. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she finally allowed herself to cry; the sound, similar to a wail, pierced through my ears. But all I could do was hold her.
I couldn’t help, I couldn’t fix anything or magically cure Melody. There was no amount of words I could say or repeat that would make this any better. But I could hold her, so I did.
“I don’t want to have to watch my mother grieve another child, it’s not fair or-or right.” Clarke’s words were muffled against my chest, as if they were from a distant memory or dream. “She shouldn’t have to…it’s just not fucking fair.”
I rocked her, back and forth, my hand moving in soothing circles on her back. “I know, baby, I know.” Pressing my cheek to the top of her head, I squeezed my eyes tightly shut. I felt hopeless and useless, but there was nothing else I could do, so I allowed her to cry.
After a few moments, Clarke’s painful cries stopped and she heaved with a heavy breath. “I need to sleep,” she muttered quietly. “When I wake up—when I wake up, it’ll be better.”
I nodded, cupping her face as she sat back. “Okay, yeah; let’s get you into these pjs and we’ll get you up to bed.” I forced a smile and pushed back the wet curls from her face; she was right, sleep was definitely the best thing for her. For all of us.
Clarke numbly raised her arms and legs while I pulled the shirt over her head and the shorts up her thighs. She sat in silence as I brushed the tangles from her hair and applied lotion to her skin.
Making our way up the short flight of stairs, she clung to my arm as if it was a safety rail. She was asleep before her head even hit the pillow, but still held tightly to me.
Sitting beside her, her arm unwilling to let me go, a smile crossed my face. She wanted me here, no—she needed me here; for support, for comfort, and strength. For the first time in my life, I felt like I had a purpose.
I felt needed.