Yours Truly

Better

Leaning over the bathroom counter with only a bra and a half slip on, I wrestle with my hair, trying to set it right. Just like every other night, I went upstairs a little earlier than Seymour to put rollers in. Though it normally takes around fifteen minutes, I've been up here for a good half hour.

"Why won't you stay in?" I groan, growing increasingly more exasperated.

I continue my struggle, determined to get them in. A few minutes later, Seymour peeks his head in the door.

"You okay in here, Audrey?" He asks, glancing curiously around at the mess of rollers, bobby pins, and other hair clips.

"No," I sigh, "I can't get them to stay in,"

"Well, I'm not a hair expert, but maybe I could help you?"

"Sure!" I hand him my hairbrush and a roller and instruct him on how to get it in. Another ten minutes or so go by and my hair is finally set. It's a little sloppy, but all in all, Seymour did a good job.

"Better?" He asks, unsure.

"Much better!" I smile at him through the mirror.

Now finished, Seymour wraps his arms around my waist and rests his chin on my shoulder. His arms are soft and warm against my bare tummy. From his perch on my shoulder, he makes silly faces in the mirror. I giggle, and he laughs too.

He kisses my neck softly, and I lace my fingers with his.

"I love you," he whispers in my ear.

"I love you too," I close my eyes, resting in his arms.

He shifts, standing behind me now. He kisses the back of my neck, trailing down from behind my ear to the top of my shoulders. He moves his fingers in small circles on my bare belly, causing pleasant shivers to run down my spine. He pauses for a moment, then kisses me just below my shoulder blade. He pauses briefly again, then plants another kiss about halfway down my back. Again, he pauses — this time hesitantly — then kisses me multiple times just above my hip, in the small of my back.

His kisses puzzle me slightly. As far as I can tell, there's no pattern to them. They're random. Random, yet deliberate. I feel him kiss me again, this time just below my bra line.

Only now does it hit me. My scars. The jagged one below my shoulder from a thrown beer bottle. The one under my bra line from some man's sharp ring as he grabbed for me. The eerily straight one across my back from one particular doctor's scalpel. And the newest: triangular tooth-shaped ones that go all the way around my waist like some hideous belt. He continues to kiss various spots on my back, each with a different story to tell.

"Seymour," I ask tentatively, "what are you doing?"

"No one has ever kissed them better before," he says between kisses, "so I'm doing it now,"

My breath catches. No one's ever shown that much compassion, that much gentility. It's slightly overwhelming and I don't know how to react. I try to hold back the tears that well up in my eyes, not wanting to ruin the precious moment. He continues kissing me softly.

Tears start to fall uncontrollably down my cheeks. I try to choke back a sob, but it comes out anyway. I bury my head in my hands, trying to stop the flurry of emotions.

"Audrey?" Seymour pulls away, and I hear the slightest bit of hurt in his voice, "I'm sorry Audrey, I didn't mean —"

"No, no!" I cut him off, "It's not you! I . . . I've never . . . No one's ever . . . then you and . . . I just . . ."

"Shh," He stops me by wrapping his arms around me again and rocking me tenderly. "It's okay to be upset about what happened. You deserve a chance to be upset about it because it wasn't right,"

He pauses again, then starts again in a voice just above a whisper.

"You deserve to be upset with me, it was my fault." I can't see his face, it's hidden behind my shoulder, but I can hear the shame in his voice. He tightens his arms protectively around my waist and continues before I have a chance to say anything.

"After all you've been through, I was the one who nearly killed you! I knew that plant was up to no good, but I still kept feeding it," He takes a deep breath, then quietly, "I'll never forgive myself, and neither should you,"

"Oh no, Seymour! Don't you dare think that for a minute!" I turn around and take his face in my hands, "I'll always love you, and I've always forgiven you for what happened. You were being manipulated, and trust me, I know how hard it is to get out of that,"

And with that, I pull him close and press my lips to his. Immediately, we become tangled in an embrace of unconditional love, forgiveness, and vulnerability. Eventually, we break apart, each slightly breathless.

"I'll always love you, no matter what," I whisper, stroking his cheek.

"And I thank you for that," He gives a small smile, "I don't know what I did to deserve you,"

I laugh, jokingly hitting his arm. He kisses my cheek, and just like that, everything's better again. It's always been hard for the two of us to share our feelings. After all, we'd never been allowed to before. It feels good to know that things are different now and that we're both finding the courage to open up.