Cadaverous Love

Chapter Fourty-Four

I shiver at the touch of his cold hands against my bare arms. I lean my head on his chest, barely able to keep my eyes open, let alone keep my head up.

"Why'd you do it?" Dallas asks, shifting his back against the wooden cupboard that holds the sink up.

"It feels like it never ends," I say, on the verge of tears again.

"Like what never ends?"

"The pain," I say. He nods, understanding. "I'm sorry, Dally," I continue, "I'm sorry."

Dallas shakes his head, "I get it, alright? Stop being sorry. I get it." He takes my hand and folds my thumb into my palm. Then he presses my other fingers down so that my hand is in a fist. "You weren't thinking," he says, "just like your mom, Emily - you weren't thinking." I stare down at my fist in his hands, tears in my eyes and his words in my head. He lifts up my fingers, "that logic part of your brain went away or whatever and you stopped thinkin' straight. Just like you told me, remember?" He pauses, "fuck, where the hell would I be without you?" Dallas says abruptly, "you know how many times just the thought of you kept me out of trouble? Or how many times you kept me-" he stops mid-sentence, "you've got the whole damn world in front of you, the whole damn world." He shakes his head, grasping tightly onto my hand, "you can do anything you want, Emily, anything. What do you want?"

The silence returns to the room as I think about his question. I finally answer, "I want to go somewhere, anywhere. I want to travel. I want to go on bike rides and pick flowers and lay in the grass and just do nothing."

"You have the world and that's all you want?"

"I want to be pretty."

"You already are."

A pitiful laugh pushes past my lips, "you're funny."

He sighs, "why do you hate yourself?"

I throw the question back at him, unable to answer for myself, "why do you hate yourself?"

Dallas shakes his head and squeezes my hand so tight I feel as if it's going to break. "Dammit, Emily," he mutters.

I bring myself closer to him and rest my head against his chest again as I move his arms around me. Dallas squeezes me tightly for a moment before sighing and letting his muscles relax.

"There's better things than this," he says, "there's gotta be."

We bask in the silence together after his voice fades into the walls of the room. The only sounds are the deep inhales and short exhales we both take and the quiet thump thump of his heart against my ear. I close my eyes, a numbing feeling writhing throughout my body. Slowly, I begin to drift to sleep.

--

"Hey, Emily," Dallas's voice wakes me, "wake up."

I nod, my eyes still closed, "come on, princess," he shakes me softly, "open your eyes."

I yawn and blink open my eyes, rubbing away the blurriness with the tips of my fingers. I look around to find myself still pressed up against Dallas on the bathroom floor. Everything is still in its place, the medicine cabinet open, pill bottles scattered. The only thing that has changed is that Darry now looms over Dallas and I.

"What-" Darry's voice catches in his throat, "what happened?" I swallow hard and stay silent. "Answer me," he says, "please, or are my assumptions right?"

"What do you think happened, Darrel?" Dallas asks, still covering me with his arms.

"She tried to-" Darry starts off, unable to finish his sentence.