What's Said in Silence

Sera-XXXXXXVI

You know you can't stay mad at me forever.

We used to be so good together, we can have that again.

Part of you still loves me.

My eyes jerk open once again. The sheets stick to my skin in a sickening way that makes me feel claustrophobic. Vessels arm tightens around my waist and it brings me back to reality.

"Are you okay, love?" He asks, his voice raspy from sleep. I wasn't sure how to answer his question. On one hand, I was with him, safe and secure in the early hours of the morning. On the other hand, I felt like I hadn't slept much since being home.

"Could you open the window?" I whispered, opting for deflection. He gave my waist one more gentle squeeze before he slipped away. I stayed turned around as he walked over to the window and cracked it open. Cold wind crept into the room and I could've sighed at how good it felt on my heated skin. I kicked off the sheets, allowing the cold air to consume me.

He slid back into the bed, forgoing the covers as well, and pressed his body against mine. Despite the cold, his skin felt warm against my own. His hair tickled my neck as he nuzzled in. This felt so mundane by comparison to our reality. A girl that had been kidnapped lying next to a man who never shows his face. Even now, as he rubbed his bare face into my shoulder, I don't have the urge to look due to a silent promise I had made before.

I had never given anyone a true reason to trust me before, but that was something I wanted to change. I wanted him to trust me as he did now. Though, I feel like there might be some distance between him and full trust in me. He might trust that I won't go against my promise not to look, but we both understood that I had kept much bigger things from him. My secrecy had been my biggest downfall, and I was lucky that he cared enough to come for me.

"You never told me how you found me." I broke the silence with a strained whisper. The few times I had spoken had not been enough to fully relax my voice so it still sounded raspy, and occasionally my throat felt like it had been stuffed with a hot brand. Silence overtook the room and for a brief moment and I thought for a brief moment that he'd gone back to sleep.

"You sang for me, little fox." He said, the sleepiness in his voice did little to hide the pride laced in his words.

"How do you know I was singing for you?" I asked, almost regretting my smartass response to the question I asked. His grip tightened around me and his lips brushed against my ear. Goosebumps peppered my skin, though not entirely due to the chill wind.

"You sang my song. That I wrote. For you." Warning flared through the air at each of his words. "Even if you are under the impression that you sang solely for the fact of giving up, accepting the fate that lay in front of you, then at your absolute lowest you pulled a piece of me from within you. You sang for me because our souls are tethered to each other." Absolute truth rang from him as he spoke.

Truth. Something I'd withheld for far too long. I'd promised myself that if I got even a fraction of a chance to see him again then I'd give him every truth of mine until it bled me dry. Yet, the past few days I'd been home I haven't given him that. I'd wanted to, really, but when I would muster up the courage to speak, the words had died on my tongue.

I had thought it was simply due to there being so much to explain that I hadn't known where to start. However, there was a simple answer to that. The beginning. Though, the problem lies in which beginning: my beginning with Preston, or the driving force that led me to him?

That was the thing about mistakes, they never progressed linear. Rather, they branched out like strands of a spider web, meticulously interconnected. Every action garnered an equal and opposite reaction, threading another strand on the ever-growing web of lies and deceit.

"You never asked." I didn't have to specify, he knew well enough what I meant by that. I had expected to be bombarded with every question on the planet the moment I spoke. That hadn't been the case, as it turns out, Vessel was far from done surprising me. He'd exercised a patience no one else in the world would have had by not asking me anything about what happened. Only how many times I'd been hit.

"If you want me to know, you'll tell me on your own terms." He whispered. Heat flared in my cheeks and my throat constricted at one particular memory. If he felt that way now, then why did he go behind my back to get information the first time? Was he simply operating under the guise that I would never speak before, and now there's hope for it? Will he hide that piece of that night from me forever? Possibly, unless I confronted it. 

The thought alone made my stomach churn. The last thing I wanted was another confrontation at the moment. Quite frankly, I didn't have the capacity for it, not when there was a fast approaching subject that needed to be discussed. 

"You shouldn't cancel the tour." I whispered into the darkened room. Pale blue of dawn was beginning to saturate the walls and I was content to keep my eyes focused there. He stiffened behind me, the muscles in his arm going taut. 

"You shouldn't worry about those things." His tone was gentle but did nothing to hide the worry that filled the room. Jessie and I had overheard pieces of his phone call and when I gave him a confused look, he caved and explained what was happening. Vessel had been canceling shows left and right due to the mess I'd made and was now threatening to cancel an entire damn tour because of me.

"Well, I do. It's not like you to cancel an entire tour, especially at such short notice." I couldn't stop the bile that threatened to rise in my throat. I couldn't let him ruin his career because he felt that he needed to babysit me. I steeled my voice with as much determination as I could muster, "So, call Terry and tell him that we're going on this tour." 

"Sera," He sighed. "You just went through something massively life altering. Touring is out of the question for you for a while." His tone was matter-of-fact and implied that the decision was made. I knew it came from a place of concern, but it felt like he was trying to keep me away from the harsh world for fear I might crumple. My nightmares hadn't helped with that.

Still, I argued anyways, "You told me you'd let me handle this as I saw fit. I went through hell. I'm aware of that. I'm also aware that you want to keep me in bubble wrap but the reality is, you can't. Facing reality head on comes with the territory of living life and if I am to live mine as I'd like to, then I need you to let me face it. Preferably standing beside me rather than against me."

My words hung thick in the air, settling into both of us. I had thrown his promise right back at him. While I felt some remorse for using his own words as leverage, I needed him to fulfill it more. Minutes of silence passed. I couldn't tell if it was because he was calculating what he'd say next to get me to drop it, or if he was considering making the phone call. A heavy sigh filled the air.

"You know eavesdropping is considered a rude practice among most people." A hint of a chuckle coated his words and I knew then I had won. He placed a gentle kiss on my shoulder before he muttered, "Tenacious woman." 

My hand found his and threaded our fingers together. I tried to enjoy the triumph- I should have felt a small amount of smugness from it- to enjoy the morning rays that began seeping through the window and the feeling of being intertwined with him. One thought pushed its way to the forefront of my mind and was ringing out through my bones like a gong. 

I was going back to America.