Melodies

"Can we fuck?"

"I don't know, can we?"

I looked away, my face turning all sorts of reds and pinks. I felt stupid asking in the first place, and him mocking me wasn't helping anything.

"Hey, don't look like that, I was just kidding."

I looked at him again, still embarrassed. He smiled at me crookedly, looking warm and safe, like a haven. Just for me. He was there for me through everything, to keep me protected and comfortable.

"Do you want to?" he asked, looking genuinely curious.

"...yeah."

"Then of course we can."

"Okay," I let out after a minute. My voice was strange, nervous and halting. I was suddenly aware that I felt awkward and out of place, which was not how I was used to feeling with Sydney.

I panicked for just a second. It was wrong. I felt like I was suffocating. I was lightheaded, and yet, being pressed down by invisible weight.

He leaned over and kissed my cheek, before leaning back in his chair and sort of smiling at me in a sad way.

"You don't really want to."

And I didn't. Not anymore. I just felt really emotional and needy. I felt thick, if that's possible. I felt pressure under and over my skin that acted as a shield, that rendered me incapable of feeling anything other than what I'd been trapped with since the day after Christmas: guilt, sadness, regret, and a deep desire for things I could not properly name.

"I do want to. Just not right now, maybe."

I voiced this aloud, staring at the tabletop. I was aware that my voice betrayed my inner dilemma. I was aware that my hands were shaky and fidgeting, and that I was bouncing my knees. I knew that everything about me gave me away.

"What's wrong?" He leaned over and took one of my trembling hands, calming me just slightly.

"I don't know."

"You do."

"I don't know."

"Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

"Can you say anything else?"

"I don't-" I caught myself and laughed, a pathetic exhale of a laugh. I covered my eyes, as if that would somehow help anything. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. You're perfect. You just need time. That's okay."

"I'm sorry."

He shushed me, separating our hands briefly so that he could shut my laptop. He took me upstairs.

He stood next to me while I pressed cold water to my face, trying to recover from whatever had happened to me that had caused me to freak out so suddenly.

He politely looked away when I changed out of the clothing I accidentally got water all over into a borrowed, oversized t-shirt.

He pulled me into bed with him after I got all flustered again trying to explain my weirdness to him, and wrapped an arm around me and spoke softly and comfortingly to me until I finally shut up.

He turned off the lightswitch nearest to him right after telling me that I looked absolutely exhausted and that my being extremely overtired probably had a lot to do with my emotional confusion.

He stayed awake with me when I couldn't sleep, even though he looked sleepy. He talked to me, and he listened when I talked to him. He didn't complain when I said stupid things. He let me cling to him as we spoke.

And after enough time, his soothing words and warm bed finally lulled me to sleep.