Book of Me and You

Her eyes met mine, they looked tired and swollen, like she had been crying. They also seemed like they held so many secrets. I could tell she wanted to tell me everything. I couldn't help but feel like deep down in her, maybe subconsciously, she remembered us; and wanted to go back to the way things had been... especially after last night on the deck before fucking Kennedy ruined everything again.

"Let's start by getting you a drink." I smiled and patted her leg as I stood and walked towards the kitchen. I heard her stand and sniffle behind me. I pretended not to notice. She had always hated when I pointed out that she had been crying.

"I mean, yeah, I could go for a whiskey right now." She huffed out a forced chuckle.

"I was thinking a tea, but if that's what you need right now, I'll make it for you." I picked two glasses out of the cupboard and set them on the counter in front of me. She came around and poured the drinks. Almost immediately she picked hers up and downed it, then set it back down to pour another.

"Whoa whoa whoa, take it easy." I placed my hand over the rim of her cup, she looked up and met my eyes.

"Sorry, I'm just kind of done with today." She sighed heavily. "I just know if I'm actually gonna open up, I'm gonna need some persuasion..." her tone was serious, it was the second time she'd taken on that tone since she came back.

This guy she had been with had really done a number on her...

I felt my blood start to boil thinking of what he may have done to make her so closed off and broken.

"Good Ol' JD always helps me with these kinda things." She half smiled again, reverting back to her old ways and joking away the pain. She picked up the Jack Daniels bottle and eyed me for approval. I shrugged and pushed my glass next to her, she poured both drinks and we drank.

She grabbed the bottle, walked back over to the couch and sat. I followed suit and sat beside her. She looked so spent. Her hazel eyes were puffy and held a damaged maroon color beneath them, half from the redness of crying, half from her hangover and a night of less than par sleep. Her silver hair was beginning to fall from her perfect tight bun and curl around her face. Her clothes were unkempt and wrinkled, she was wearing yet another one of my shirts, the 'bourbon, scotch, beer' shirt I had lost years ago, and some plaid pajama shorts. She looked up and met my gaze.

"What do you want to know?" She had a defeated tone about her as if she had been trying so hard to keep up this facade that she was fine and had zero baggage, but now the curtains were pulled back and her true form was revealed. She was emotionally naked and vulnerable for the first time.

"Everything you'll tell me." I smiled and reached up, brushing the stray hair from her face, encouraging her I was here to understand and not judge. She took another big swig, straight from the bottle this time, grimaced and closed her eyes.

"I honestly have been having a hard time discerning what has been a memory and what is just fiction." She pressed her lips together. "I have snippets that are starting to come back to me about what I can only guess is our time together." She looked up at me for assurance. I gently took the bottle from her and took a swig myself, feeling uncomfortable getting into the topic of our fucked relationship. "I also have memories that come and go from James. I remember most of it, but a lot of it my brain has just buried away because it was so fucked up." I inched closer to her on the sofa, not knowing what to say or how to comfort her.

"You don't need to tell me if it makes you uncomfortable or upset. I don't want to reopen old wounds."

"No, I think it might help to talk about it." She paused again. "He was fucked up. I mean I was sixteen years old, I could barely drive properly and here comes this fuckin guy that works with my dad... to woo me." I could hear the anger and hatred in her voice now. "He was a sociopath or something, he came in and just said whatever my rebellious teenage heart needed to hear to fall for him. He was fucking twenty-eight, John." She looked up from her fidgeting hands at me. "I don't even know what I was thinking. I guess I thought I was cool dating someone so mature." She rolled her eyes. "He was really great for a while. Looking back I know there were a lot of red flags that I ignored, but I thought it was my first 'adult' relationship, I was excited."

She fidgeted some more before taking back the bottle and drinking again, gasping slightly as the whiskey burned down her throat. I placed a hand on her leg, urging her that it was okay. "He really changed after my parents died. He became this gross father figure/husband. He ordered me around constantly, and if I didn't obey he would become unreasonably angry." She looked down at her hands.

"He got violent when he started using." Her voice was almost a whisper, I had to lean in to hear her.

"He did drugs?"

"Yeah, he would drink constantly and then shoot up..." A pause. "Heroin." She clarified. "He would make me prepare it for him... I had tried several times to escape after I realized he was fucking abusive, but he would always somehow be several steps ahead of me. He would catch me in the act and drug me up so I couldn't leave." She looked down and rubbed the crook of her arm.

I felt my heart drop. I was flooded with so many emotions. He did this to her... MY Clara. I wanted to fucking kill him. I could feel my blood boil as I thought of what he did to her, how he hurt her, the other things he could have done while she was inebriated. I looked down at her and felt it all rush off me. Her shoulders quivered with the silents sobs that escaped her now. She had her head down towards her legs, tears overflowed from her eyes and dripped onto the sofa below her. My anger was now replaced by the overwhelming need to hold her, to make sure she knows I will never let anything happen to her ever again, even if it killed me, I would protect her.

I scooped her up into my arms and squeezed her. I was lucky enough to know her, and know exactly what she needed in these situations. She buried her face into my shirt and sobbed. It wasn't an ugly sob that made you pity her, it was the quiet, dignified sob that broke your heart entirely. Once she moved away I released my grip. She stood, laying a gentle hand on my shoulder as her knees wobbled beneath her, and stumbled her way to the bathroom to clean up. I grabbed the bottle once again and finished it. I needed to just do it... tell her how I felt. Tell her I adored her and would go to the ends of the Earth for her and to make her happy and safe. I never wanted her to settle for anything less than what she deserved again.

The whiskey burned as it went down. We were both fairly buzzed by now, so it wasn't difficult to finish off the bottle on my own. Liquid courage as they call it.

She entered the room again, face newly reddened by scrubbing off her tears. She sat by me once again.

"I'm sorry, I really haven't told many people about this." I couldn't believe she felt the need to apologize to me for anything. I wiped away a stray tear rolling down her cheek.

"Thank you for telling me all that, I know it was hard for you." I glanced down at the floor and back up at her, she shrugged her shoulders in response. "Clara, I wanna be here for you. I probably did a shit job at that before, I can't help but feel guilty. I feel like if I had been there for you more, instead of worrying about dumb shit I had going on at the time, things would be different." I paused and took a breath. "You- You're the ember to my flame when it gets dark... and I love the way it feels when I'm with you, Clara..." I squeezed my eyes shut, partly because I was anxious about her reaction but mostly because I was beginning to see double. I didn't care. She needed to know. "I want you to feel like you can talk to me and confide in me. I know to you it feels like we've just met and you're opening up to a complete stranger, and I don't know how to fix it for you. I want to fix everything for you." I looked up at her. She was looking up at me with an expression I couldn't place. Her eyes were dilated and darting across my face, I wondered if she would even remember any of this tomorrow.

Fuck it.

"Darlin', when I'm with you I feel at home, and I want you to feel the same."