Blue Velvet

Tom watched the heart monitor dance as it beeped in monotone. Her body was cold to the touch, a faint pulse was the only sign of life. Tom couldn’t help but notice how innocent Emma looked laying in the bed. Her hair was wrapped into a messy bird’s nest on the top of her head with a few stray pieces framing her face. In all his years, Tom would have never expected the girl to look so innocent. Even when they met nine years ago, there was hardly an ounce of innocence in her- that he was aware of at least. Tom wasn’t much for reading people, but he always got the sense that Emma was hiding something from him.

It was a strong facade she put on for all the world to see. Deep down, beneath the camouflage jackets, military boots, and worn out band t-shirts, Emma was just a scared little girl thrust in the adult world without meaning or direction. When she met Tom, he introduced her to so many new things. He brought down to the depths of his own personal hell. Tom watched her chest rise and fall only feeling a sick feeling in his stomach that he was the reason she was laying there in the first place.

Despite all the evils Tom had introduced the doe eyed eighteen year old, she couldn’t help but feel like it was all supposed to happen- she and Tom were supposed to happen. He made her feel loved and protected- something she hadn’t felt in a very long time.

It was roughly two in the morning when Tom and Emma came stumbling back into his Hammersmith flat. The pair were inebriated and giggling like crazies as they linked arms and fell onto Tom’s bed. It had been six weeks since the two started hanging out. A week in, Tom convinced her to stop paying rent on her apartment and just stay with him. His reasoning?

“I was an only child; when I like someone, I latch on. They’re stuck with me.” Tom let out an infectious giggle and rolled onto his stomach. He brought a thick digit up and flicked away a few pieces of hair that tickled the brunette’s cheek.

As the giggle went viral, Emma turned her head and stared into Tom’s eyes, “What if I want to be stuck with you?”

“Then you’re in for a real good time.”

Consciousness finally made its way to the brunette strapped to the bed. She looked over, shocked to see Tom sitting in that same uncomfortable chair as he was the day before. Tom laughed and cracked a small smile, “What, you think I’d leave you here alone?”

She shrugged the best she could with her constrained arms, “Don’t you have a lady to tend to back at home or something?”

“We broke up.” His voice was hard.

Emma watched the emotions on his face shift around before settling on content. There was something more to the story, something he was hiding, “Is that so?”

Tom shifted anxiously for a moment before speaking again. He knew how easily he could be read. Tom felt her eyes eating into his mind, “We’re having a baby.”

The brunette shut her eyes and took a deep breath. There was a sharp pain in her heart which was masked over with a blank stare. The disappointment and hurt was there, but just like Emma did best, she buried those emotions deep. It was anger that she turned to- always anger. She smirked and rested her head back against the stiff pillow, staring at the ceiling. “Well gee golly; How fucking nobel of you. Saint Edward Thomas is what they should be calling you, not Tom. Three letters is such a peasant name. What a fucking hero you are, sticking around for your kid.”

The tone in her voice caused Tom to sit up, a confused look on his face. She, of all people, was the one Tom thought would be the most supportive. Then he saw it. A slight tremble ran down her spine as Emma tilted her head up and stared out the window. There was the emotionless face, but Tom knew where to look for his answers. It was the eyes, always the eyes.

“You know, you were always shit at hiding your emotions in your voice.” Tom didn’t need to say anything else. Emma didn’t need him to. The pair were physically together for only three short months but emotionally for a lifetime.

A thick blanket of silence covered the room. Emma had set her eyes on the foliage outside, watching the leaves dance to muted music. Tom leaned back in his chair and kicked up his feet again; his eyes squinted as he fell into a deep train of thought, steam rolling through a million things at once. No communication was the best find of communication.

A soft knock on the door pulled Tom’s train to a halt. A nurse clad in a white scrubs with a clipboard in his hands entered the room and nearly suffocated on the tension. “I just need to check vitals before we head down to the conference room for therapy, Miss.”

Tom took that as his cue to head out. Emma pulled her eyes away from the window just in time to see Tom getting out of the chair. Her words withered in her throat as he moved toward the door. The nurse began unbuckling the restraints around her ankles by the time the brunette’s words finally found the strength to be vocalized.

“Hey Tom?” Her voice dropped back to that innocent childlike whisper.

He stopped in his tracks and pivoted, “What’s up?”

She cleared her throat, words ready to dive back into the pit of her stomach, “Thank you.”

And just like that, everything was okay.