His Blue ✓

12| Crumble

When I tiptoe downstairs in Anson's oversized T-shirt, I feel like a trashy chick that slept over at his house.

I've never worn a guy's shirt before. It's something that I've only ever seen on tv after sex scenes happen; that's where the image comes from I guess.

When I enter his living room, I see his body stretched across the couch relaxedly.

"You awake?" I call to him from across the room.

His head pops up immediately revealing his dazzling teeth. I blush a little and walk over to him.

"You look good in my shirt, Blue." He smirks.

I blush more.

"Thanks." I try to sound enthusiastic, but even Anson's wonderful personality can't keep me from rethinking what happened last night.

There's nothing scarier than not remembering. My entire sanity hangs on what Anson reassures me didn't happen.

I guess he can see my flustered soul. He stands up gently and takes a step towards me.

"Hey, you're going to cheer up soon, right?" His voice is smooth and steady. I wonder how someone so personally unsteady can be strong and consistent for everyone else.

"I'll try." I look away from his deep eyes. They would surely drag my secrets from me if I looked.

He's like a modern day Medusa... minus the snakes. And he's a guy. And he's not evil....

Okay that was a stupid comparison.

"I know there is nothing worse than what you're probably thinking about." He speaks. I halfway wish he would stop talking . "But you can't bottle those thoughts up. You don't have to tell me if you aren't comfortable; but, you could tell Fern or even a counselor-"

I shake my head at the bombardment of thoughts in my brain. My eyes lock with his, and I lose my breath for a moment.

Anson saved me, isn't that enough for him? If he wants me to heal, he should let me process this alone- and stop talking about it.

His azure eyes glint with worry before clouding with empathy.

"Anson I barely know you." I remind him. "I know we share some common ground but you can't just make this your problem too. It's my problem. You've done your part- and for that I'm thankful."

His worrisome expression hardens at my words. "Why can't this be my problem too? It's partly my fault that this happened."

I take a step away from him- far enough that he can't reach out and touch me. You never know, with him.

"I'm the one that took the drink, I'm the one that agreed to go with you, I'm the one that took his hand. It's only logical that the blame is all on me."

"Blame?" Anson clenches his jaw. "You can't blame yourself for any of that!"

"Why not?"

I almost lost it in the shower earlier. I realized that everything happened because I was being a careless fool. Going to a party that I didn't belong at in the first place.

I don't want to let myself fall victim to these stupid notions again, and I won't let Anson or anyone else distract me from this.

"It's not fair- it's not good for you."  He says loudly.

"I'm the one who messed up Anson, not you!"

His face is austere as he argues with me. "Okay. And now that you've established that, what? Maybe I want to be here for you. Just because we aren't close doesn't mean you should push me away."