Love You to Death

Love You to Death Chapter 8

The air was electrified. I could've swore that if someone else were in the room, you could see the electric attraction between us. I could feel the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. My skin felt like it was burning. I felt so alive in that moment. I closed my eyes, anticipating his lips on mine and I could feel his face in front of me, his breath lingering on my lips due to the absence of distance between us. An unusual amount of time passed and I felt his hand that was once tangled in my hair move to trace my jawline. I fluttered my eyes open and I saw him gazing down at me gently. I relished his touch. I noticed a shift, an atmospheric disturbance, between us. I snaked my hand from my side to grab a hold of his wrist. A part of me was hurt. I looked up at him with pain in my eyes, the tears starting to well up.

"Is there something wrong?" I quietly asked him, my voice starting to crack.

He looked away from me, realizing what he had done. I knew in that moment that something was wrong. There was a pause and he gazed down at me again.

"I don't know what to think right now."

"What does that mean?" I asked gently, searching his eyes for some answer, some sign.

He took a deep breath.

"Look, I just need some time to think about this." His hand dropped from my face to my waist. I dropped my own hand to his side, grasping on to a loop in his pants. I felt his grip tighten on me.

"Oh." I said almost inaudibly. I looked down at my feet.

"A part of you is right. I don't know if I can fully commit to you with the situation I am in."

Everything drained out of me in that moment. Those words stung my soul. I had no strength to argue with him, or at least defend why he should. The inner psychological expert in me whispered to me that this is just free will. Every human being has it, and that's okay. I'm not going to force my construct onto him, forcing him to accept said construct.

"I do care for you, but I don't want to commit to you half-assed. It's not fair to you. Please, don't wait around for me."

I chuckled to myself, wiping away stray tears from my eyes.

"I'll always be here waiting for you, always. It's a part of my job, remember?" I smiled lightly, forcedly.

Something about him had changed in that moment. I almost didn't recognize the man in front of me. A switch had been flipped in his mind. His expression was stern and he turned away from me. Did I do something wrong? Was it something I said? The atmosphere around us became so tense. The air filled with tension to such an extent that one could have cut the air with a knife.

He started making his way to the door and I followed him. I just wanted him to know that I was there even when he didn't want me to; to establish that I still cared.

Peter opened the door to the mud room area and he started to head for the front door. He turned to me, almost as if he was going to say something, but he didn't.

"I'll be here for you, always, Peter." I said to him quietly.

His expression, let alone microexpressions, could not be read after I said that. He was like a stone. He walked out the door, keeping his back to me and walking briskly against the chill of the air. I closed the door and walked back into the living room, cleaning up our dinner. After I cleaned everything up, I just sat in the living room on the couch in his spot, in the dark. I tried to gulp back tears, but they came on regardless of my efforts to stop them. They were silent tears. I knew that a commitment into a relationship was a lot to think about. I wouldn't hesitate committing to him if it meant I could save the poor man from his fate.