INAMORATA || 18+

21| honesty

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After I got back to Hudson's yesterday, I basically locked myself in my room for the rest of the day. The thought of talking to anyone after all of that was mortifying and left me confined to the bed. I didn't sleep at all. I stayed awake all night, listening to all the sounds of the house. Hudson would knock every once in a while, asking if I was okay. I didn't have the heart to answer him. I couldn't scream, cry, or make a single sound. I just laid there all night, staring at the ceiling. I felt catatonic.

But today, I showered and I left the room. Now, here I am, eating cereal on the patio. It's peaceful out here. Although inside it wasn't loud or chaotic or anything, nothing beats the tranquility of a beautiful Myrtle Beach day. For all the faults of the city, the one consistently good thing about it is that it's an absolutely gorgeous city.

I turn my head in response to the patio door sliding open. "Hey."

Adonis smiles and sits in the beach chair next to me. "How'd you sleep?"

"I've had better," I try to return the smile, but I guess the environment can't fix everything.

She nods. "Well, I just wanted to say we're all glad you're back here and safe...when you called Hudson yesterday, I'd never seen him look so scared for another person. Not since we were in middle school."

"You've known him that long?"

"Yeah, I met him through Damon," she bites her lip and glances away. "Hudson obviously wasn't there at the same time as us, but Damon was always going on about how cool his brother was for teaching him guitar and writing his own songs."

So he's always been this way.  Not that it's a bad thing. It's just that every little thing I learn about him excites me for some reason. I wish I could explain it, but I can't. Something's just drawing him to me and I want to learn as much as I can about him. I'm shocked by my own honesty about all of this, but there's really no point in lying to myself. Especially after everything last night. The last thing I want is to be secretive and lie to him, or myself. I owe the both of us too much to do that. I think I should finally go talk to him.

"I think I'm going to head inside, but I'll talk to you later," I tell her.

Adonis gives me another of her trademark smiles. It makes me wonder if she ever did beauty pageants, cause she definitely gives off that vibe, in a good way of course. Something I learned over the past few days is that the most likely place to find Hudson is in his room, writing songs or concocting different melodies. While I was here the first time, I would sometimes just spend hours down there, listening to him create music. He would ask my opinion a lot of times, then others he would just ask me to sit and listen. And I'd do it every single time, without question. Why? I just enjoyed being in his presence. At this point, I realize that we could literally be watching paint dry, but I'd still enjoy it because I was doing it with him.

Just like I predicted, he's sitting on his bed, guitar in his lap, pen and pad in hand. It's so intriguing watching his mind move a thousand miles a minute, coming up with unique ideas and concepts that I could only hope to create within my lifetime. It's amazing.

"What're you writing about?" I ask when I reach the foot of his bed.

He looks up from the pad and smiles at me like I'm his favorite person in the world. I wish I was. Damn. This whole being honest with myself thing keeps surprising me at every turn...I don't get it. "Nothing really, at least not yet. Just ideas right now."

"Oh...fun." I know that my purpose for coming down here was complete and total honesty, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. There are so many implications behind what I want to tell him, so many nuances, and underneath it all is undeniable fear that he won't look at me the same. At this point, it's probably irrational.

No, it's definitely irrational. But I still remember all the judgment and forced sympathy I got when it first happened, and I'm not ready to go back to that. On the other hand, this could be how I finally begin to heal. I've been bottling up all these emotions for so long and they're begging to be let out.

"Can we..." I pause. "Can we talk?"

Hudson puts his guitar down, concern flooding his eyes. "Yeah, of course. Is something wrong?"

"A while ago, you asked about my scars, and how I got them. And I told you Mick did it. But I didn't tell you why or how. I really need to talk about this, but it's okay if you don't want to, I get it's a lot to dump on a per—"

"You can tell me anything you want, I'm here to listen." The smile he gives me helps to ease the tension in my muscles. I can finally breathe without feeling like I might just stop at any moment, my heart isn't thundering in my chest. At least not nearly as much as it was.

Okay then. I guess I'm about to spill my guts. This could go so many ways, but what I want most is for the crushing weight on my chest to evaporate. Maybe telling someone will help it. Maybe telling him will alleviate the stress. I don't know, at least not yet. All I do know is that I'm about to show just how vulnerable I really am.

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