Glitch (The Write Awards 2013 Winner)

Glitch - Chapter 8

Mat’s arm felt heavy against her skin. It rested directly over her hip precisely where the skin stretched thin over the jut of bone. The rustle of his breath through her hair had woken Freya with its tickling insistence; frequent rushes of air needling at the flyaway wisps around her ears. The proximity between them had created an uncomfortable warmth that encased the pair of them. It sat heavy on her chest and restricted her breathing.

      

Their bodies were an unmatched fit; two pieces of a jigsaw pressed together by frustration rather than fate. Their foundations were bent out of shape in compression against each other. Freya was compelled to contort herself around him. She despised the touch of his feet against hers. It was perhaps the most uncomfortable night’s sleep she had ever encountered.

But all this was immediately forgiven with the comfort of his presence. And that was the only presence she noticed. No regret or guilt; merely drowsy satisfaction. For a brief and fleeting moment of time, dwindling away from her possession as if attempting to capture smoke in cupped hands, Freya was of worth and use. Perhaps some would label it as being used. But the key foundation of manipulation was attention. And this was her choosing. She was in complete control of this situation which made a welcome change. Fighting passed the folds of twisting sheets, she knitted her fingers amongst his.

A break in Mat’s constant rhythm of breath with a long sigh heralded his return to the realm of the awake. It seemed odd to abruptly kick into action at his stirring. Freya remained as she was, but brushed a thumb across the back of his hand to make clear her mutual consciousness. She felt his breath somewhere between her neck and shoulder as he placed a swift kiss; the soft of his lips melting into her skin.

 “Listen…” The sound of his voice provoked her into motion. It was an unexpected jolt out of the dreamy relaxation; she had expected more time to rouse herself from sleep. Freya stirred in order to make eye contact. He had perched himself slightly above her by propping himself up on an elbow; allowing Freya the view to best admire the trace of his jaw line. For a moment he twisted an escaped strand of her hair within his fingers. But he let it fall before speaking again.

“I don’t want to sound like the complete prat in this situation, and I understand that you’ve had one heck of a hard time recently, and I really should’ve resolved this earlier, but… It's only fair to establish what the situation is here. Can I be blunt?” Mat’s voice exhibited the fog of his recently woken state. The natural murmur of his tone possessed an accompanying rasp when unbroken by recent speech. The new hush behind his tone captured the attentions of Freya unhindered by distraction.

“Do your worst.” Freya’s words fluttered from her smirk with a playful resonance. His lips twisted upwards as if considering a smile but gave up in the final stages. The frown knitting softly across his eyebrows remained ever present.

“I’ve done this before. I’m not looking to be saved, or healed, or changed. And neither am I your saviour. This is just what it is…”

“Mat…” Her words became entangled in a yawn as she stretched her limbs out in greeting to the morning.

“No, this bit is important…” He pressed on regardless. To make clear his intention to speak was known he sat up even further. Freya would have been content to listen to him talk all morning with his peculiar husk. However she felt it only polite to correct his mistake. She exhaled a sigh while propping herself up to a greater height against the pillows.

“Mat, I don’t expect or even want a relationship from you.” Her declaration was blunt. Eyes fixed onto his without once removing her gaze, expression untarnished by emotion and a voice steady in the absence of uncertainty.