The Butterfly and The Moth

31

It took a moment before I pulled my hand away from Sterling.

He had been clasping my hand so tightly, his fingers gripped around mine in a way that reminded me of his eyes from last night. There had been urgency in his eyes. And there was urgency in his touch.

When he felt me begin to pull away, however, his hands instantly relaxed. He let go, and allowed my touch to leave his. I felt awkward as I brought my hand back to my body, tearing my eyes away from his face and looking down at my blanket again.

Sterling allowed the silence that I had let build, just for a few moments. He didn't speak, he didn't make a sound. He didn't move. In fact, if I hadn't known he was there, I could have believed I was all alone.

"What are your plans for today?" Sterling finally broke the silence. I looked back to him, and I had a few reasons why I did.

Sterling sounded exhausted; I could hear it in his voice. I had already noted that he looked messy; his hair wild on his head and his clothes wrinkled and rough. I examined his face this time, noticing the dark skin beneath his eyes and the way his features stood weary.

But I also looked at Sterling because I wanted to see the motive for his words. Of course, I already knew them. He felt bad for me. I was the newest charity case for him.

"Why?" I asked him, my tone sounding slightly sharp, like it had once been a razor blade but had dulled with years of rust.

"Why... what?" Sterling asked me, clearly taken back.

"Why do you want to know?" I asked him, but I figured my own motive would be just as clear as his.

Sterling didn't answer immediately. He took a breath as he stared back at me, his eyes travelling over every inch of my face. I felt self-conscious, wanting to hide my head beneath the blankets just as I did last night. I resisted that urge, however. I let him observe me.

"I told you I was here for you," Sterling said, and he didn't explain anything after that. He said the words like they were a complete answer, even though they weren't.

And I guess he knew what I was thinking, because when I didn't immediately answer, he continued. "I want to stay with you today."

"Since when?" I asked, because the last thing I remembered, we were only fake friends, not real friends.

Of course, I realized that much has changed between now and then. Now Sterling knew. He knew what I did. He knew what I've become. He knew now that I've been just pretending. He knew now that I had been lying. Not just to him, but to Daisy and everyone else too.

And what else did he know? Well, he knew what happened. The way he looked at me just screamed it at me. He knew what happened. Sterling knew what happened. He knew what I had ripped away from me. He knew what was taken from me.

My dignity.

"Dahlia," Sterling sighed my name like it was an explanation for all the things he was feeling.

"What?" I cut him off, though my voice was less sharp. It matched his own; a sigh that was a place keeper for all my feelings.

Sterling brought one of his hands to his face, brushing it against his chin. He took a few seconds to breathe, and while he did so, he continued staring at me. He kept observing me. He was looking for the truth beneath my words and my actions.

"You're struggling with this," he finally said, and his eyes didn't leave my face. "I can see it. I can see how anxious you are. I can see how scared you are. Let me help you."

"I don't need your pity," I reminded him. I didn't need anyone's pity. Pity was useless to me. In fact, pity only made me feel worse.

"It's not pity, dahlia," Sterling told me, but I could see in his face that he knew I didn't believe him. "it's not pity. Maybe you don't think we're friends."