13. Ezrah
Ezrah
13
Idon't know if I've ever slept that well in my whole life. There were no nightmares, no anxiety, and no reason for Lucas to haunt my dreams when he’s right beside me. Hell, I fall asleep almost instantly.
Still, even as sleep pulls me under, I resign myself to waking up in a cold empty bed.
But when sleep begins to recede, my first thought is why am I still so warm?
Maybe Lucas isn’t awake yet.
I quickly dismiss that thought. It’s not the middle of the night. It’s too bright for that, and Lucas is always up hours before me.
It must be a dream. I must not be completely awake yet.
Well, since this is a dream, I might as well enjoy it. I give in, snuggling deeper into the warmth. I tighten my arms around him, rubbing my face against his chest.
Lucas chuckles. "Good morning to you too."
I freeze, then pull my face back to look up. "You're still here?"
The smile disappears and his face goes carefully neutral, watching me as I stagger up and off the bed, putting as much space between us as I can without running from the room naked. "Do you not want me to be?"
I look away. I don't appreciate these trick questions. "I don't know. Do you want to be here?"
He frowns. "Ezrah, this isn't a test. I just want to know what you want so I can give it to you."
"What time is it? Does one of us need to get Dil?"
He smiles. "I already got her. We've got time."
I study him carefully, then stiffly sit on the bed. "Then we might as well stay. It's not every day we get a chance to sleep in."
"I'd love to," his hands slide along my bare back. "How are you feeling?"
Normally I was sore the morning after, and maybe there was a touch of that but really… "I feel good."
He lights up. "Yeah? Good, that's what I like to hear."
His hands are still stroking along my skin. I start to talk, then hesitate.
"What is it?" His hands stop, waiting for me to say what I’m thinking.
"I don't want to fuck first thing in the morning. You've got morning breath and I'm still waking up,” I force out in a rush.
He gives me a smile far too gentle for my comfort, and his hand comes up to stroke my hair. "That's alright. I wasn't trying to.”
That doesn’t make any sense. "Then why are you still here?"
"Because I like spending time with you, and you’re cute when you sleep.” He pauses for a second then continues. “Besides, you said we could try my idea."
I’m confused. It’s too early for my brain to make sense of what he’s saying. ”And we did. We slept together. What more do you want?"
His face falls. "Is that all you want?"
I looks away. "I didn't say that. I just thought that’s what you were offering."
He pulls me tighter against him. "Good, because I have a lot more in mind."
"Right."
I want to ask what that means, but the words are caught in my throat. If they come out, so will the others lodged there.
He runs his hand along my back, soothing my frayed nerves. My eyes start to drift back shut, rocked by the steady beat of his heart under my head, but it’s not long before my head catches up with me.
Are my hands in the right place? Am I squishing him? Is his arm uncomfortable? Is my arm uncomfortable? How long are we supposed to do this for? How do we know when we’re done?
My skin begins to crawl. I know I can’t lay there another second. Awkwardly, I push away and he immediately lets me go. I stop just shy of skittering sideways across the room. "I'm going to go take a shower?"
"Sounds good. I'll go get breakfast ready. Do you want anything special?"
“Whatever is fine.” Why is my voice coming out so high and reedy?
He moves to touch me, and for some reason, I let him. He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, hand gently stroking my hair out of my face.
“I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
I nod then race to the bathroom as fast as I can without causing alarm, then I barricade myself inside. Alone in the bathroom, I let my panic bubble to the surface. What is happening here? We've already slept together, what else can Lucas possibly want from me?
Trembling hands turn on the water to just above freezing. I need to think, to clear my head. I’m still naked from last night, so all I have to do is step under the cold spray, letting it sting my skin.
I don’t actually wash so much as I just stand there, mind spiraling with endless questions. I don’t understand what Lucas is getting out of this situation. My eyes catch my reflection in the small mirror on the shower wall. My neck and chest are covered in hickeys.
Even alone, I feel my face heat up. I look like a teenager with their first boyfriend after prom night.
There’s no way I can hide even half of them.
I turn off the water and dry off.
Still naked, I approach the large mirror over the bathroom sink. As if in a trance, one of my fingers runs along the red-purple marks on my neck, tracing the path he’d taken along my body last night.
I swallow.
Can I really let myself have this, even if it’s as temporary as the marks on my skin?
I go back into the bedroom to get dressed. My eyes fall on the flannel in a heap on the floor. It’s green and brown and when I pick it up it smells just like Lucas. I bite my lip. It’s cold and the other one he gave me is dirty. It's not like I have a choice, honestly.
I snuggle into it and head for the living room. I tell myself I can always take it off if he says anything.
When I come out, Dil is in her playpen giggling away watching Lucas sing to himself in the kitchen. He doesn't see me right away, allowing me a few minutes to admire the way he moves, almost radiating joy.
He’s singing some pop song I feel like I should know, moving in a little dance while he cooks.
He does a little spin and spots me. Somehow he lights up even brighter, eyes focused on the flannel. His smile is so big it looks almost painful. "Ezrah! I made omelets!"
"I see that." I feel a matching smile pull at my face. I kiss Dil and take my usual seat at the table. A cup of coffee and a plate appear in front of me.
"Go on and eat up.” Lucus is still beaming at me. “I'm sure Dil's ready for her walk."
"What about you?"
"I ate while I was cooking."
"Oh," I take a bite. "It's good."
"Yeah? I'm glad you like it."
We eat in comfortable silence. When we’re done, the day falls into our usual pattern. I keep waiting for some change. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, but the only difference is the physical affection.
Every chance he gets, his hand is on my shoulder or the small of my back, at one point on our walk he tries to hold my hand.
Over lunch, he swaps out his usual spot across from me to sit next to me.
I nearly jump out of my skin when I feel the soft press of lips against my cheek.
He chuckles as he sits down. "Sorry if I startled you. You just looked so cute."
I feel my face grow warm. I have no idea how to deal with this. "Whatever you say."
"I mean it." He squeezes my hand.
I can't look at him.
The next change comes that night when we sit down to watch a movie. As per usual, Lucas chooses the film, but then he grabs a single blanket, settles it over both of us, and snuggles into my side. I stiffen instinctively.
I can tell he feels it from the way he looks sideways at me. ”This okay?" He asks.
"Fine!"
He presses a kiss to my shoulder. I try to focus on the movie, but the feel of his body pressed against mine in a cocoon was warmth was both soothing and endlessly distracting. When the credits roll, I have no idea what we watched.
Lucas yawns and turns to me, offering a hand. "Ready for bed?"
I nod, getting to my feet. To my surprise, we walk to my room. He follows me inside, shutting the door behind us.
I don't look at him as I strip down and climb into bed, lying on my side, facing away from him. I can’t figure out what he expects from me, and I don’t know how to ask. I feel the bed dip, then his arms snake under my head and wrap around my waist. He presses a kiss to the side of my neck.
"Good night, Ezrah. Sleep well.”
In no time at all his breathing evens out and I feel him relax even more against me. So I take his advice, and I do sleep well.
Things continue in much the same way after that. Aside from touches, kisses, and nights of passion, not much else has changed.
It’s so comfortable that I can’t help but relax. Even when I remind myself that it’s all too easy. There has to be a trap hidden somewhere.
But the more time that passes the less I have any idea what to do about it.
At least we've only talked about being together at the safe house. That leaves an easy opportunity for a clean break before he can hurt me too much. Before I can get too attached.
For now, I can just let myself enjoy what we have before it dies.
Like a daylily. It's all the more special because you know you won’t have it for long.