(dream/reader) Panic in her eyes

Chapter Eight

There's panic in her eyes...and I'm the one who's causing it.

I need to fix this. How do I fix this?

"You need to tell me what I can do." I beg, wishing we were anywhere except the side of the freeway. "What do you want me to do?" It's louder than I want it to be. I sound frustrated–and, well, I am frustrated.

I sigh. Though I can barely see through the rain, I know she has that look again. I made her scared. But I can't help it—she's scaring me.

"I-" She begins. "I don't know!"

What am I supposed to do?

I look away, toward the car. The amount of vehicles going by is starting to scare me. Not for myself, but for her. We're so close to the road. "I will do...anything," I say, the grip of my hand on hers loose, just tight enough to show I'm here. Just enough for her to know I'm not going anywhere. Maybe just enough to at least get her back into my car. "Anything to make you comfortable. For you to trust me. Because I want you to trust me."

She looks skeptical. I hate that I've made her feel this way. I thought I was doing this right. It hurts just a bit to know that despite how hard I was trying—it didn't seem to have the desired effect. Even after months. "I want to be able to show you what no one's shown you before. Like love. Like...patience. And comfort. And I've been trying so hard to do that-"

"Why even bother if it's so hard then?" She asks. Her voice breaks. I don't think she's angry—no, she's sad. "What's the fucking point?"

That's not what I mean. Shit.

I sigh. "Because-"

She interrupts again. "Because it sounds like you have some motive. You have to have some sort of motive. Why else would you be putting up with me?" She tries to pull her hand away from mine, but I hold it tighter, refusing to let go. My fingers, on both hands, fold around hers, palm to palm, but she's not holding me back. She's pushing me away.

I say her name quietly. It's a whisper amid the harsh wind and heavy rain. "I don't have a motive," I promise.

She tears her hands out of mine. "Everyone does." Her eyes well up, water against water.

My eyes drop to my hands that were just grasping hers. I clench my eyes closed. I might start crying, too. I wish she knew how much I cared for her. I wish she would just hear me.

"I can't just like you? I can't just want to treat you right?"

She shakes her head.

"No."

I pause. We stare at each other.

No.

Her pain etches itself into my brain.

She's hurting so bad. How do I explain how much I really care for her? In a way she'll actually listen to?

"You deserve it. You deserve love."

I promise. I love you.

But I don't say it. Why don't I say it?

She won't believe me if I do. It can't be now.

I watch a tear fall. It's hers. It splashes against asphalt, next to every other drop from the sky.

"I don't."

"You do."

"Clay, I'm broken-"

"You're not unfixable." I say, and have to repeat after a car revs its engine passing us.