Birdie lays beneath me, her dark curls fanned out across our white sheets and I watch the steady rise and fall of her breasts. Her lips are parted with lust, eyes closed, the curves of her body on display. Just moments before my lips were on hers, her hands on my back as we forced out any space between us. Desire ran rampant through my body, filling me up, silencing any thoughts until all there was was Birdie and the way her skin felt against mine.
But even though my mind is focused, my body isn't. One crucial part of me not coming to the table and frustration breaks through the haze of arousal.
"I'm sorry." I breathe , my heart pumping and my words breathless.
Hazel eyes meet mine, "it's okay".
"I can't..." I mutter, shaking my head.
"It's okay." She repeats.
Letting out a sigh, I roll off her, my back landing on the bed beside her as I stare at the dark ceiling with shadows that dance across it. She shifts beside me, her fingertips grazing my skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.
"Tell me again about Navy." She says quietly beside me.
When I got home with my mom and Vida, I was elated. I felt relieved. I told Birdie all about Navy and showed her a picture I took before we left. It's not a done deal, they want me to check back in as they try to send her back through her behavioral tests but I'm hopeful and I already made an appointment to go back and see her.
But I know that Birdie bringing her up is to distract me from this. I know it's a side effect from my medication and tomorrow I'm going to be talking to Dr. Trent about it but my thoughts still like to circle me back to Austin.
If Austin hadn't been in my life, I'd I hadn't been raped, I wouldn't have anxiety. I wouldn't be facing his release and having to do a victims statement and I wouldn't be on anti anxiety medication. And if I wasn't on the medication, I'd be able to get hard and have sex with my girlfriend whenever we wanted too.
But that's not what happened.
————————
He haunts my dreams.
"Holt!" My name is screamed frantically and desperately, hurtling me from the basement with so much force I launch upright.
My heart slams against my chest wall, sweat rolling down my face as I try to put distance between me and the monster.
"You're safe. You're okay."
It's dark, a silhouette sitting on the bed I've ejected myself from. I reach for Blue, fingers stretching out, searching for the comfort of his fur.
It always takes me a minute to remember he's gone. My chest hurts, my lungs gulping for air and I shove my hands into my hair. Deep breaths, slow breaths.
"I'm going to turn the light on." That's Birdie.
I cling to her voice, working my way from the basement. If Birdie's here, I'm not there. I can feel the soft rug below my feet, the one that my mom insisted I needed. It'd tie the whole space together, she had said.
The light flicks on, my vision blurry as my eyes try to adjust to the sudden brightness. This isn't the basement. This is my room in my townhouse in Chicago.
"You're okay." Birdie tells me.
I nod my head, I know I'm not in the basement. I know he's not here. He's still in jail, at least for a little while longer. It's been years. I'm not that same kid anymore.
Listening to Birdie's movements I tell myself not to jump, that she's going to come to my side and place her hand on my shoulder or my leg and that it won't hurt. That I'm safe.
I jump anyway. "Sorry." I croak out.
Birdie never acknowledges my apologies, instead she slides her body beside me, shoulder pressing into mine. Her fingers skim along the length of my bare arm until she reaches my hands clutched in my hair and slowly she unravels my fingers. Lacing mine with hers she unfolds me from the ball I've found myself in, patient and understanding like she's always been.
Dark curls spill down my shoulder, covering the T-shirt I wore to bed that's now clinging to my skin. Honey and lemon wafting through the air settling my thundering heart. Her skin is soft and warm, her touch tender and loving and I release a breath, my body relaxing slightly.
"I'm okay." I tell her, my voice thick.
She holds me tighter, weathering my panic attack with me. I feel bad, knowing I wake her up.
I fell asleep reliving the nightmares of my youth, what did I expect? A deep dreamless slumber?
"What time is it?" I ask Birdie.
"Almost 5."
My medication is wearing off. It doesn't help that so much is going on. Austin, no Blue. And this time of year is always traumatic for me. And Birdie.
Memories resurface so strong it feels like it's happening all over again. That every year I lose Drew again. It doesn't seem to matter what I do in therapy, whether I increase my sessions, or avoid the things that remind me of him, or embrace the things that remind me of him. I fall apart every year. It hurts just as bad as it did the first time only I miss him more. I've missed him longer now.
Birdie's breath reaches my neck, warm, sending goosebumps across my damp skin. Her lips press against my cheek, eyelashes grazing as she blinks.
"I'm okay." I repeat.
I am. At least for me.
"Take your time." She whispers.
I won't be going back to sleep, I never can after a nightmare. And I don't want to keep her up, I've already disrupted her sleep enough.
"I'm going to go get some water." I say even though there's a full glass beside my bed but the anxiety pills are in the kitchen. "You don't have to wait for me."
"Holt.." she says my name with sadness, she knows I won't be coming back to bed.
"It's okay Birdie." I squeeze my fingers around her hand, kissing her curls on top of her head. "Get some sleep."
We sit there, on the floor beside the bed for a few minutes before she relents. I wait until she climbs back under the covers before I click the lamp off and take the full glass of water from the nightstand.
I pad out of the room quietly, focusing on the now. Not the past.
