He knocked on the door, pulling me out of my train of thoughts. I wasn't ready for the conversation we were about to have, as I knew it may dictate how I feel and cope within the next few months - though looking at my track history, we're probably looking at the next few years. Reluctantly I unlock the door, seeing a raven mess, tired brown eyes and dry lips. He licked them, stepping forward causing me to move out of the way, and allow him in.
Unable to look at his face, I turn and follow him to the couch, sitting on a chair opposite. I focused on his baggy grey shirt, and black jogging bottoms paired with expensive looking Nikes. It looked as if he had either been lounging, or thrown it on in a hurry. Suddenly I became cotton mouthed, tongue dry and breath warm. I reached for the glass of water on the coffee table, at first taking small sips until feeling a little more comfortable and chugging it. It was awkward. After the phone call, I wasn't sure what to say; I'd confessed my feelings. He didn't want to be with me - it was simple. Why had I invited him over?
"How are you feeling?" He asked. His voice was muted, as if his throat was dry, and he felt a little scared.
"Not amazing." I replied in the same manner. At least we were sharing one emotion at the moment.
I was yet to meet his gaze, instead my eyes trailed around the apartment, trying to find something to look at, to at least take my mind off of the wild thoughts running rogue in my head. Yet, nothing could distract me. After years of pain, and what had felt like punishment - even though I was yet to know what for, I was served with another difficult situation. There were various ways I could change; perhaps see the boy in ballet and avoid contact with an ex-abuser. Yet, somehow I knew deep down he'd changed, and I knew that what we have is right.
I understood, finally, it hadn't been my fault before. Perhaps we'd crossed paths too early, and now we would be compatible. I just wasn't sure how I'd convince him. I hadn't even convinced myself yet.
"What if we just trial it?" I broke the silence. Internally I could hear myself say something along the lines of 'don't be ridiculous'. Though, it was worth a try. If I didn't succeed, I would find a way to let this go. I had to.
"Trail a relationship?" George shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Don't be ridiculous Belle. I explained how I felt - we can't support one another."
"We can." I'd been quick to reply to his statement.
"Really, do you truly think after everything that a good idea is to do this all over again? Imagine having to relive the abuse, fucking assault, rape and fuck knows what else I did." He had shouted the last sentence, it was clear he was becoming enraged, yet his eyes told another story. He teared up, looking at the floor before letting anything fall. "It's not an option. I'm not going to put you through the emotional trauma."
I hadn't replied for a while after the outburst. It felt a little like the two of us were lost in time, unable to reach out and grasp anything; whether it was one another, or some sort of lifeline. "You could take me out on a date?" I asked hopefully. "Just a date - it doesn't mean anything more than that." After staring at the ceiling for what had felt to be the last half hour, I'd spoken up, attempted to persuade him somehow. I'd doubted he would try, but I was going to.
"Okay." He spoke up. I'd drifted my stare from the coffee table to him, in shock. "I'll take you out, but please, if this doesn't work out, don't blame yourself. It was always me-"
"George, stop." I stood from my chair, walking slowly to the couch, sitting beside him. I rested a hand on his shoulder to offer some sort of empathy, not that I'd been much help.
"It's my fault you're the way you are, Belle." He looked tormented - clearly because he wasn't willing to forgive himself.
"What happened was tragic." I spoke. "But you can't blame yourself - if you do, you'll tear yourself up."
"If I don't take responsibility, I'll do it again. I need to know my boundaries and my true potential, otherwise everyone's at risk."
"But, you're not who you used to be- neither am I. We have both changed, for the better."
He seemed content with that reply. We shared a few minutes together in the quietness before he left. As it was late, it was appropriate for him to leave.
Joji walked toward the door, but before opening it, turned to face me.
"Get to mine for seven tomorrow." He said, and I smiled in return. He didn't reciprocate the expression, only looking dull and going to turn the door handle.
"Wait-" I touched his arm, and he stopped.
I blushed, swallowing before asking; "Can I get a kiss good-bye?" Embarrassing as it was, I'd simply wanted to feel him on me once more.
He leaned forward, yet not close enough. He had paused to think, but after a few seconds followed through and planted a kiss on my cheek. It was soft, gentle and made my heart feel as if it were going to beat right out of my chest. He drew back ever so slightly, inhaling, before leaning in once more, placing his lips on mine. I smiled, feeling whole. Although it had started with only one, we were in sync until his hands were at my waist. It wasn't an intense set of affairs, despite how I'd felt internally, we kept at a comfortable, rather polite pace. It had only been a few moments of joy before he pulled back once more, lingering close to my face. We looked one another in the eye, causing him to straighten himself out. Although there was a small smile playing on his cheeks, I could see the concern in his eye.
"Was that good enough for you?" He asked. He'd reverted back to the child-like, vulnerable tone he'd entered my apartment with. I didn't have to respond for him to know my thoughts, and I could see the excitement creep over his face of the turn our relationship had taken.
1095 words,,unedited
sorry it's so short - i'm struggling to maintain a believable, enjoyable story but adamant to finish it
