Delicate

Chapter 14

Damon's P.O.V

I place my fingers just above the tiny knob of the draw, watching them shake around the metal as they balance between touch and hovering just above it.

I lock my jaws together, trying to cage away my cowardice, shoving it deep inside of myself so it couldn't stop me. But it fought back, driving itself deeper, clawing for a spot in my chest where it gripped my heart in an unrelenting hold.

It wasn't going away, not when I was possibly making a decision that could leave me further buried inside the darkness I already inhabited.

I don't think this is a good idea Damon - Theo whispers nervously as my grip on the knob becomes firm.

I miss them - I argue, my emotions building at the admission. I just want to talk to them.

It's too soon - Theo presses, dropping his suggestions to facts. You haven't even begun to pull the hurt apart, it's too soon to dive back in.

The hairs on my arms stood at his words but my overwhelming want bouldered them down. 

I missed my fucking family. Missed them more than I knew possible to miss another living thing. Missed their wildness, missed the obnoxious amount of noise they made when we were all together and the turmoil that could arise because of it. I missed their love, missed the abundant love that ran between us all - I missed that more than anything.

I'd woken up missing that, the love, more than ever before. My mind filled itself with memories of when we were all kids, when everything was easier and there was no disappointment to be forged. When there was nothing to be found but happiness and hugs when the smiles seemed eternal in those moments. Warmth and comfort invading from all angles to smother us all in joy.

I'd open my eyes wanting nothing more than to experience it all again, even if it was only once more. Not allowing myself to admit that they were memories of a distant past, the happiness long gone and replaced by the cruel distrust that'd bloomed in recent years, accompanied by poignant disappointment.
I didn't let myself think about what they'd done, how'd they'd lied and hurt me because it didn't matter when the pain was so strong. Didn't matter when I missed them this much.

I tug at the draw's knob, watching it slide open the reveal the black, forgotten system at its base. I'd kept the space empty excluding the one object, not brave enough to face it on any other occasion. Now staring at it, unease built inside but so did joy. I pick it up, the usual feather-light tool now feeling like the full weight of a pup, specially designed to drag me down.

I stuff the phone with its charger, waiting for life to return to the phone and hold my breath when it does.

Time ticks slowly, slugging along with every passing moment. The slow moments giving my mind the time it needed to remind me of the pain and the betrayal, it took the time hungrily.

The hurt resurfaces as I remember the look on my parents face when they saw the blood, the disappointment that dripped from their unspoken words as they mouths hung low in raw horror. I recalled the look in their eyes, nothing like the ones they held in the moments of happiness I'd awoken longing for.

The agony builds to a tipping point against the need to see them, the softness that's formed hardening to shields. I needed a moment to reconsider but then the entire screen shone with light and the weight increased. The tool demanding for a choice to be made, for the cowardice to be relinquished by a certain power I didn't possess. 

Fear boils to a scorching heat and I tug at the charger before my data could reconnect itself. I drop the phone as if it was soaked in wolfsbane, slamming the small draw shut with a disgruntled groan. My feet scramble to get away from the device, taking me up and away from the wobbling nightstand.