The Walls Are White
“Again.”
The sound of a fist colliding with the pad, in just the right… spot. It was like music to Kate’s ears. Each hit a testament that she was learning, improving. Hell. Even changing her situation one punch at a time.
“Again.”
Today though, each time, she’d do one of the hundred things that were considered wrong. Off-center, dropping her defense. The works.
“Again.”
The next punch hit harder. But alas, off-center. Lucien kept hammering home the same word. Nothing short of an OCD loving, goddamn perfectionist.
She bit into her lips. It wouldn’t be surprising if she left a dent in them.
“Nope.” Lucien raised an eyebrow, silently asking: What is going on here?
The hell if I know. Two weeks of training in boxing and judo.
Lucien had even gone as far as to incorporate sparring.
The mouth guards, shin guards, getting-hit-in-your-face type of sparring.
She loved every second of it. And was praised repeatedly by her dear teacher for her swiftly growing skills.
Which made today downright brow-furrowing, to say the least.
She gathered her frustration into her fist. Smack. Off-center, if the pain flaring in her wrist was any indication.
“Nope.”
Kate glared at the white dot on the pad. Watching it fade from view as Lucien lowered them.
“Your elbow dropped, again.”
She wiggled out of the boxing gloves, hands slick with sweat, then turned to take a swig of water.
Best to count to ten, giving her the necessary seconds to bite back the retort that lay ready on her tongue.
There was a reason for her attempt at remaining somewhat…
civil. Lucien had been going above and beyond in her training.
He’d even refrained from butchering her with his sharp tongue.
“Your wit isn’t with you today.”
There goes that. She smiled sweetly, grinding out. “Perhaps, if you would allow a mistake to slip through every now and then… My wit wouldn’t be covered in the dust of agains.”
Lucien’s eyes narrowed. Oh dear, time for a lecture. She could nearly recite it by heart now.
“Imperfection doesn’t work in martial arts. If I let you get away with one wrong move, it’ll become a habit, then muscle memory.” He shrugged, muscles rolling with the movement. “All your effort would be wasted.”
Kate nodded. He was right, but it didn’t help the stone from sinking down to her stomach.
She turned to gaze out the window while taking another sip.
The towering pine trees swayed in the wind, raindrops gently curving their way down the glass.
Finally, something other than the white crystals drifting down.
She rolled her shoulders, wincing at the ache in them. With training came pain. A lot of it. A second later strong fingers dug in between her neck and shoulder. His.
Touch. Lucien had become a lot more touchy, the biggest surprise being… she allowed it. It came with the territory of learning the arts. Or so she told herself.
“It doesn’t matter. We all have these days.
” His warm hands skillfully worked their way into the knots, pressing in all the right places.
She desperately buried her sounds of pleasure.
That would go too far. “What matters is that you keep going, which is something you don’t seem to struggle with.
” Another gentle push, this time a tiny “Hmm.” Escaped her.
Fuck. “Enjoying it, sweetheart?” She could practically hear the grin in his voice.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hmmhmm.” He dropped his hands. “Then I guess you won’t mind me stopping.”
Kate bit back her disappointment, turning to him with a flourish. “Nope, not at all.”
His answering smirk said it all.
But… she did miss it. Something had changed.
Almost as if both of them waved a white flag during training.
Choosing to sheathe the sharp swords that were their tongues in favor of education.
And after, they sometimes forgot to sharpen those blades.
While the occasional threat was still flung throughout the room. The tension had died down to embers.
He tilted his head, assessing her. “Let’s hop over to Brazilian Jiu Jitsu.”
So nonchalant. While he knew damn well it set her heart racing, and not for any good reasons. Such close contact on the floor, tangled in those positions. The perfect recipe for a full-blown panic attack.
Even the mere mention of it had fear creeping along her mind’s edge.
His voice dragged her out of the din of her racing thoughts. “I thought you wanted to learn how to defend yourself.” He spread his hands, offering it to her. “This is the way.”
“I did.”
“Then why the fuss?”
He knew why. But he just had to tempt it out of her.
“I wouldn’t be able to…” She trailed off. Her voice disappearing together with the last remnants of her confidence. Escape.
She couldn’t get the word out. Her breath hitched, her lungs constricting.
“Able to what?”
It wasn’t only the past. It was… Lucien.
In each of their sessions it was hammered into her heart, her brain once more.
It wasn’t just man against woman and the unfairness existing there.
Her teacher was skilled, an expert. Every session pushed her to go harder, to bypass her comfort zones.
In the silly, stupid hope that someday she could rise up to his level.
A laughable thought. But if she didn’t hold on to it…
And aside from that. Being pressed into the floor beneath him, what if… what if he didn’t stop, didn’t let go when she asked him.
He crossed his arms in front of him, taking to leaning against the rack of weights.
“In real life, over ninety percent of fights end up on the cold cobblestones. Women end up in exactly the same positions that trigger your panic attacks.” She took a step back, shaking her head.
“Kate, if you don’t work on the worst of your fears… what use does it even have?”
He was right, she knew he was right. And yet…
“Trust is earned, not given.” He tilted his head at her, no smirk to be found. Nothing but genuine earnest on his face. “Haven’t I deserved a little trust?”
Never let fear hold yourself back. On Christmas eve, she’d chosen to stand up to whoever stepped down those stairs. Had promised herself then and there. Not again, not ever. A tiny voice within her whispered that he would stop when asked. Again.
Kate punched her hands together, swallowing past the brick lodged in her throat. “Let’s get this party started, shall we?”
This should be fun.
***
They had gone through a range of different motions, the names of which flew right over her head.
There were more important things at hand, like pushing down the panic that flared during every single touch.
It wasn’t just knees brushing. No. Skin glided over skin, her ragged breath mingling with the calm of his as he guided her through each of the steps.
Kate could feel it, the coiling in her body, the stiffness in her shoulders. She knew Lucien felt it too.
“You good?” It was the third time he asked.
Her mind screamed at her to say no. Get off. But backing down… No.
So she nodded each time. Fine. She was fine.
Then it happened. As if on cue, during a move called the mount. Lucien sat on top of her, legs straddled across her abdomen, his weight pressing down on her. She knew he kept it to a minimum of pressure. But her heart did not believe it.
It was simply too much. Her breath hitched, every fiber within telling her to shove him off, to scream out.
It drowned out his instructions, voice fading to a whisper until all she could hear was her own pulse.
Ice-raw fingers squeezed around her neck.
Tighter and tighter. The white walls vanished from view.
In their stead, peeling yellow walls surrounded her. Smaller. She was so much smaller.
“Off.” She squeaked. Only one word. But it carried so much…
The weight lifted. But her mind, it wouldn’t catch up. Her breathing intensified. Warm hands touched her shoulders lightly. A voice reached through. “You’re okay, Kate. You’re okay. It’s just me.” Lucien. He had to see where they were. Had to see the shadow on the wall.
“Yellow.” She croaked out. “Yellow.” Lucien followed her eyes to the wall. Recognition filling his eyes.
“White, sweetheart, the walls are white.”
“A shadow.” Her vision blurred with tears.
“There is no one here.” Her teacher sent her a soft smile. “Just you and me, Kate.”
She grasped for the weight on her throat. “Ice cold.” It was all she could utter. Hoping he would understand. His eyes narrowed in thought. Wanting to understand her.
“On your neck?”
She could only nod, a tear slipping past her cheek.
Breath coming in gasps. Slowly he raised his hand, coming to rest gently on her collarbone.
Warm, so warm. He trailed higher, ending up at her throat where he laid a hand across it, resting it there.
A gap opened up, allowing a hint of air to travel through.
Lucien nodded. “That’s it, sweetheart. In and out. In for two, out for four.”
She inhaled, focusing on the gentle weight of his hand erasing the ghost of her past. Exhale. Gradually the air returned to her lungs. The ice leaving her aching throat. Nothing but the warmth of him left there.
Blinking heavily, his silhouette got through. Knees, he was on his knees beside her.
“That’s it. You’re out of it.”
She closed her eyes. Three things. She had to name three things.
The cold mats digging in her back.
The creaking of the boxing bag swaying in the wind. As always.
Him next to her. Drawing her back from that abyss of desperation.
Kate sucked in the cold air slipping from the window, the scent of pine stinging in her nose.
“I told you, but you kept pushing.” Anger, frustration, shame. It all whirled through her. Just waiting to pour out, to be directed at someone.
I’m never doing this again.
“I offered, but I never pushed. Your own mind did. Something else you’ll need to control.”
Control. The word stung, acid burning in her chest. It didn’t matter that he was right.
“And I will continue to do so.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “I… I went into a full-blown panic attack!”
“You did. And don’t forget you got out of it again too. That’s progress.”
“Progress?” The man was delusional. “If you hadn’t listened, I’d be—,”
He cut her off. “But I did listen.”
“What?”
“I did listen.”
Her teeth clamped shut. Off, only one word. She hadn’t even been sure if he’d pick up on it. With her voice akin to the squeak of a rat in her panic.
Lucien continued. “Better yet, I offer to do it again. Right now that is. Because if you don’t now, you never will again.”
Kate couldn’t look away from the intensity in his stare. “Only that way do you chase away the ghosts.”
“I-I am never doing this a-again.”
Lucien flicked a finger against her temple. “That right there? It’s your mind. Prove it to yourself. Don’t do it because of what happened to you, do it in spite of it.”
The words made so much sense. But he didn’t understand, this wasn’t in her control.
“Isn’t that why you’re here? Pushing yourself so hard?” His voice deepened. Somehow the rumble in it brought her a sliver of comfort, calmed the blood rushing through her. “I can help you through this. But only if you say yes.”
She was teetering on an edge. She could pull away from it, or dive in. Finding the surface again. That was what scared her most. Because losing control meant getting hurt. Potentially.
“The key is breathing through it, and doing it with someone who will back off. I will, always.”
She averted her gaze, biting into her lip as she glanced out at the swaying trees. They bent away from the fierce wind rushing through their branches, but they didn’t break.
“I promise.”
He was giving her a choice.
And so she relented once more, whispering. “Yes.” Half hoping he wouldn’t catch the low sound. But he did.
“Let’s go for it, then.”
As if he had known her answer all along.
This time, she didn’t break. With the patience of an angel he guided her through.
Lucien braced himself on his hands, allowing only the lightest pressure on her struggling body.
The first thing he did was show her how to get out of the mount.
Following his lead she slowed her breathing down, they stopped anytime it quickened.
He waited, pointing to nature surrounding them.
“Listen to the rain. Nothing works better than those drops of water falling down.” She exhaled, continuing until the blur over her vision lessened, keeping the ice-raw fingers at a distance.
“You’ve got this.” He repeated over and over.
And she did. Successfully escaping the dreadful position. I did it. Kate just lay there, silently enjoying the win. Lucien playfully patted her knee before standing up and offering his hand to her.
“Same time tomorrow?”
Laughter bubbled up inside of her as she took it. Delusional indeed. “Give it a day why don’t you.”
She was so happy that for a second there, she almost threw her arms around him in a hug. Stopping herself at the final second, she settled for sending him an embarrassed simper.
He returned the smile. “Don’t get too comfortable with me, sweetheart. We might still have to kill each other later.”
A truth wrapped in a silver package. She did forget it, at times.
He dropped her hand, stepping back with a promising wink before vanishing into the hallway.