Falling

Chapter Nineteen

Cat P.O.V.

January 4

Dawson has been distant, not in a completely bad way, but in a way that makes me concerned. He doesn't let me touch his forearms which I didn't notice until I grabbed onto them after almost falling down the stairs at Lala's party on New Year's Eve. He tensed, barely noticeable, but still noticeable. He apologizes like fifty times if he doesn't reply to my text or answer my call "Fast enough" I've told him over and over that "it's okay" and that "I understand". People get busy sometimes, I get that. I'm not sure what's going on with my boyfriend but I am determined to find out.

I thought about asking Dallas one day when I was at their house but decided against it. I shouldn't bring him into it. I just need to talk to Dawson about it, hence why I've shown up at his house on a Monday night, uninvited. I make my way up to the door and knock. I hear shuffling then the door opens to reveal Angelica, Dallas and Dawson's mom. "Well, hello sweetie! I didn't know you were coming over tonight," Angelica says, ushering me in the house before closing the door, "Dawson, Cat's here," she says loudly then turns to face me again. "How are you? Do you need anything to eat? Drink?" I politely decline and Dawson comes downstairs looking slightly disheveled, his hair is all messed up, his grey hoodie wrinkled and his black sleep pants. "What do you mean Cat's here," he asks. "I mean she's standing right next to me," Angelica says and Dawson looks up with a shocked/confused expression, "Hey," I say shyly. "Hey, what's up. Are you okay," he asks, running a hand through his hair to attempt to fix it, but it doesn't work though he still looks adorable. "Yeah, I'm fine, I was just hoping we could talk," I say, rocking back and forth on my heels. Dawson freezes, Angelica quietly excuses herself, his face falls and he begins to wring his hands. "Yeah, of course, want to go up to my room," he asks and I nod.

Dawson leads me up to his bedroom, which again is a slight mess, clothes hang over the back of his desk chair, his bed is messy, like he was asleep, his computer sits on the bed opened to a random YouTube video. "Did I wake you up," I ask and he shrugs, "It's alright. What um did you want to talk about?" He says as he turns back to face me, his eyes still full of panic and fear. "Don't look scared," I say, stepping up to him and grabbing his hand. He tenses and I look down at our hands, "Why do you do that," I ask. "Do what?" "You tensed. You did the same thing when I grabbed your arm after almost falling at the New Years Eve party," Dawson snatches his hand back and I look up at him in shock, "I don't tense up." "Yes, you do," I say then there's knocks at Dawson's door before it swings open. It's dallas, caring bandages and gauze? "Hey it's time to change your bandages again, don't worry mo-" he stops mid-sentence once he looks up to see me. "Would you look at that I actually have to go-" "What bandages do you have to change," I ask and Dallas and Dawson share a look, in which it looks like Dawson will murder his brother if he says anything. "Nothing," Dallas says and begins to walk out the door, "Not my story to tell," he says then closes the door. "What bandages," I ask Dawson curtly and he shakes his head. "It's nothing," "What bandages, Dawson," I ask again and then watch as he scratches at his forearm. His hoodie sleeves ride up a small bit, and I see what looks like medical tape, my breath catches in my throat. "Pleasee, tell me you did not hurt yourself," I say, my voice shaking as I reach out for Dawson's arm. He lets me take it. I slowly and gently push the sleeve half way to his elbow. "No," I breathe as I look at his forearm that has a white bandage over it. "No, please tell me you didn't," I plead and look up at him. Dawson quickly averts my eyes and I feel my own well up with tears. "It isn't very recent," he admits quietly. "Was it before we met," I ask, but he shakes his head. "How long after," "The night we met," he says and I look up at him, "The night we met," I repeat, my heart feeling as if it's breaking into a thousand pieces. "Why did you do it," I ask softly and try to keep my breathing steady.

Dawson takes a breath and moves to sit on the edge of his bed. "Dallas has the looks you know? He always got the girls. All my life I've been the 'other twin' I was never buff enough. I was never good enough. I just wanted to be good enough damn it," I didn't think my heart could break but hearing Dawson, this six foot man, sound so small, so defeated. It hurt my heart. I slowly walk towards Dawson and sit on his knee and wrap my arms around his neck, his left arm curves around my hip to hold me in place. I gently place two fingers underneath his chin and tilt his face towards me. "I've known you all of what? Two weeks? And I can say with absolute confidence you are good enough," Tears fall down his cheek and I carefully wipe them away before kissing the side of his head. "If anyone ever told you that you are not enough they were lying. I promise that." Dawson takes a shaky breath before speaking again. "Freshman year, I met this girl named Madison, I sorta knew her from middle school but we only really grew close in highschool. After months of flirting we got together, it was great at first, though mom never liked her. In hindsight that should've been my first red flag my mom likes everyone," he says with a small chuckle and I feel a small smile tug at my lips that quickly disappears when Dawson continues his story. "She slowly became more controlling, getting mad when I didn't answer her texts or call immediately," so that's why he always apologies, "She always wanted some new piece of jewelry or for me to constantly buy her flowers and if I didn't compliment her 'enough' she'd go find another guy to do it," my blood boils at the thought of this "Madison" girl making Dawson, my Dawson, feel this way. "I finally ended it during Winter break that year, but I still have to see her everyday I walk down the hall of the school, always with some new guy," "Well, she sounds like an absolutely lovely person," I say with immense sarcasm then soften my voice, "Please, never feel like you have to answer me immediately or buy me anything," Dawson tightens his grip on me and I run hand through his hair, "As far as I am concerned you are Perfect, Dawson Grey, in every way imaginable," "I'll never be Dallas or Asher," he says quietly. "I have good news for you then. I don't want you to be them," he head snaps up to look me in the eyes. "What?" "I want you to be just as you are," I say and lean in to kiss his lips softly, his lips tasting slightly salty due to the tears. "Would you uhm, would you like to stay the night," Dawson asks nervously. "I would be delighted."

"How did you even get here," we're laying in Dawson's bed, me in one of his big shirts, him still in the hoodie and sleep pants. "My mum dropped me off," I shrug and Dawson looks at me, "And just left you," "I kinda told her I was staying the night," I respond sheepishly as I feel the blush spread across my cheeks. "Oh, so you just assumed I would let you stay the night." "Yes, I was kinda banking on my boyfriend not throwing me out," I say with a laugh and shove at him. "And no bag." "She was tired, I don't think she noticed." "You are something special, Cat." "Yeah I know," I sigh and lay my head down on Dawson's chest.

"But, you're my something special," Dawson whispers later that night when he thinks I'm asleep and my heart swells, yeah I feel pretty damn special