2.11 | Count On Him

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Posted on May 25th, 2017 | Edited on October 27th, 2018

| . . . C H A P T E R - 2.11 : C O U N T - O N - H I M. . . |

Middle of the night, I find myself by the pool side with my feet submerged in the water. It was cold - not just the water but the weather as well. If you're going to be out for five seconds, then the cool wind was welcoming. But for more than that? Your body was sure to start getting goosebumps with shivers.

However, I continued to welcome it. It numbed my body.

Probably having seen me through the door from his room, Arnav slid the glass door open and stepped out. "Hey, what are you doing here? It's kind of cold out, don't you think?"

I didn't respond, keeping my eyes glued to the blue of the water, for if I did, there was no guarantee my voice wouldn't crack.

He continued to walk till he was seated to my left. His gaze on me was piercing, trying to make out my features through the moonlight. Eventually, he asked. "Are you crying?"

I turned away slightly hiding my face with my hair to wipe them off. In my peripheral, he raised his hand. Assuming his action, I inched back and whispered, "Don't," asking him to not touch me.

Even if my skin was numb and I would most probably not feel his touch, I did not want to risk that.

He respected the distance and sat beside me, silently. Five minutes must have passed before he caved. "Nightmares?"

So much for not wanting him to know. I let my head bob up and down to give him an answer.

I figured the conversation would end there but I was even more surprised with the words I heard next. "I used to wake up from bad dreams all the time when my parents died. That incident... it was etched in my brain, you know? So many nights, I woke up screaming; in a sweat."

When he was quiet for some seconds, I reeled from the information and found myself genuinely asking, not just because I was curious but also because it felt that sharing pain seemed to bring him closer to me. "How long ago?"

He turned to look at me for a second and I thought he might not tell me. I thought that telling me the earlier sentences was all he was willing to say. But then, he blinked away to the water, his feet moving and sending ripples through the pool. "I was 11."

Quietly, I inhaled deeply. That was a very young age. I couldn't imagine how devastated I would be if it had happened to me. Just almost losing my dad two years ago, I couldn't handle. If it had actually happened...?

I leaned forward, dipping my left hand in the water before placing it between us. When I knew I had his attention, I asked, "You get the gist?"

A soft smile spread his face as he blinked up to me and nodded. "Yeah, I get the gist."

This, apparently, became our thing now. Once when I needed it the most, without any words at first, he had made me feel his support. Even with being unable to hold me, he had made sure to pass the message along. Now, it was the other way around and even though he shared this bit of his past to let me know I wasn't alone in this, I felt the need to let him know I understood and he had my support and I was here to listen if he ever wanted it.

I couldn't touch him, hold his hand, but it was the next best to make him feel as if I was.

"I used to be so scared... afraid to sleep thinking I'd wake up screaming again and it would worry di. But then I realized, seeing me like that - not sleeping, not eating - that was hurting her more and I made a promise to myself. No matter what, I would never let her be hurt because of me. Pretty ballsy for an 11-year-old kid but..."

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