Can You Believe In Me?

He wiped the tears off of my face and kissed my forehead. “Baby, that’s so terrible.”
“I got over it, soon enough. It was hard for a couple years, but it’s done and over with.” I responded. “Don’t feel sorry for me, please. I had years of sympathy. I was a broken child. Maybe in a while I’ll get out the pictures.” He grimaced at something.
“Hopefully not the pictures of them…”
“Dead, no probably not. This is a touchy subject for me. Your turn, now.”
“Well, I was twenty-two when it happened. I was on stage and things started going faint. Apparently I looked zoned out. Noise started going away and I passed out. I woke up three days later. I couldn’t figure out anything for the longest time. I couldn’t talk at all. I couldn’t hear anything. Those days where slow and boring. On top of hard.” I looked up at him.
“That’s all, it just you know happened.”
“The doctor’s said it was probably from all the sound I preformed in without ear plugs in.” I rubbed my hand up his chest.
“That sucks so much.” I tried being thoughtful it didn’t work.
“At least we have each other. I mean my voice is back to normal, but my hearing will never be back. You, Jess, are broken mentally. You’ve had such a hard life and-“
“I thought I told you not to feel sorry for me.” I protested and kissed his chin. “Not cool, Mason. Not cool at all.” He stuck his tongue out. “I’ll bite it if you do that. I could get out of this bed too.”
“Yes, I know. You would leave me to walk the house nude?” He chuckled as I pouted. He kissed my pouty face.
“Maybe, I would. If you possibly came with me. The neighbor’s might not like it, but who gives a flying fuck. We should try that sometime. I realize we don’t have wings, oh I got it we could jump of a building!”
“That would be dangerous. Let’s not try that and say we did. It’d be a great story like that one time in the kitchen when we where you know and you almost stabbed me.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize what I was grabbing.” I proclaimed.
“Look next time.”
“I thought you said no more kitchen sex.”
“I meant it, kitchens are dangerous for you.”
“That just makes everything better!” I smiled wide and poked him.
“You’re not the one who gets hurt.” He poked me back. I sat up and straddled him.
“That’s a point. Hey, maybe you should hide the knives next time. Not leave them out.”
“Well, any way that is very unsanitary. We make food on those counters.”
“And? It’s not like anything that has been on them hasn’t been in my mouth one time or another.”
“Think about Trace…”
“Ew… That’s sick, but what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” I giggled. “Oh and I wouldn’t sit on the big sofa anymore.”