The Way The World Ends ✓

Chapter 14. Indigo

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This is the dead land

This is cactus land

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         My heart beat a little faster when I felt just the tips of his fingers on my knuckles. I didn't flinch away this time. When he figured out that I wasn't going to slap him away, he slid his fingers down to my wrists, softly stroking my skin in calming motions. I was still okay. He ever so slightly tugged on my wrists— not enough to displace them, but enough to ask if he could. I didn't pull back, so he slowly lifted my arms off my knees to reveal my face to him. I must have looked horrible. I didn't cry, thank God, but I'm sure my eyes were wild and my face the color of a tomato. Despite that, he smiled faintly at me. He pushed the hair covering my eyes away and behind my ear so that I could meet his eyes. I did, more embarrassed than I've been in a long time. To my surprise, his eyes weren't filled with pity like I thought they would be but rather shame. He looked like he felt guilty.

"Hey," he whispered, concern still etched into his face, "it's okay. If I knew you were claustrophobic I never would have let her put us in here. I'm really sorry. I thought it would be fun to get a few minutes alone with you where we could talk. After this, I'll take you home. I'm sorry this probably isn't working out how you expected it to be." He shrugged and cast his eyes down.

Then I surprised him and myself. I started laughing. I felt some the panic launch out of me with that laugh and, albeit a nervous laugh, it helped me feel less anxious. "It's not your fault, trust me on this one," I sighed. "I, ah, have a lot of stuff I still have to work through," I took a deep breath in and out, "and sometimes being trapped overwhelms me. I'm a little messed up."

"Aren't we all?" He asked, sliding his hands back up to meet mine. His thumbs absentmindedly brushed against my bone-white chapped knuckles. He turned one of my hands over to examine my palm and whistled. "Wow. You've got some powerful grip." He dipped his head to kiss my palm where there were little white crescents left by my nails. Cool lips against hot skin. I did my best to suppress the shiver trying to break loose in my spine. He was succeeding in distracting me from my anxiety, whether he knew it or not.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, looking down at my lap. "You have no idea... It's really hard for me to do a lot of stuff, no matter how much I want to, and trust me, I really, really wanted this to be a nice night together--."

"Hey," he said, a little more of his smile showing, "Don't worry about it, okay? I just wanted to spend some time with you." I fought the urge to smile until my face split, and he continued, "how about we get out of here? I've kind of had enough for one night."

I readily nodded in agreement. I knew this was for my benefit, and I was grateful. Even though I thought that he probably wanted to stay longer -this was his life after all- I wasn't strong enough to fight him on it. My body couldn't take any more and I just needed to get away from this place. I didn't care where we went, his house or my house or the freaking moon, as long as it wasn't in the vicinity of this closet. The exertion was evident when I tried to respond to him.

My voice shook a little when I asked, "how much longer until we can leave?" I didn't want to have another panic attack and I knew that if we didn't leave soon, it was only a matter of time until it happened again.

"Don't worry about that. It won't help to count down. Soon, I promise," he answered, shifting so he could sit next to me on the ground with his back against the wall and laced his fingers through mine. "Close your eyes." I did. "Breathe in." He squeezed my hand. I did. "Breathe out." I did. "Did I tell you about when Bo got an electric collar?" I shook my head. "It was pretty funny. So, my dad thought we should get an electric fence, so Bo wouldn't run away..."