Finding Solace

XXXVIII

The heated rock blistered my palms, having been laying by the fire all night, though it did not compare. My shoulder had kissed the flames, searing off my skin until it was nothing but black, crisper charcoal, damaging the nerves until it was numb, though it did not compare.

My chest burned, damaged internally from the various stab wounds, the knife sliding into my body, over and over again. Though it was killing me, bleeding out, my body shutting down, it still did not compare.

The rock slid from my hand, slamming on the ground until it rolled to a stop. My hands were wet and sticky. Crimson blood slid off my fingers, dripping onto the ground. I could feel the heat of the blood on my fingers yet it did not compare.

Nothing could surpass the feeling in my heart, the scorching, cruel pain that pierced her heart. The image branded into her mind, forever weighing on her heart, squeezing it until it stopped beating, slowly killing her from the inside out. Nothing compared the glassiness of his eyes, the vague, lifeless look they held as the stared back at her.

I felt as his body went limp below me, his hands releasing her from their tight grasps, falling to the ground. My stomach rolled and I turned, puking off to the side as I slid of his body, the bile adding another burn to the mix. I couldn't bear to look back at him. At his now misshapen head, and blank stare, at the damage I had caused.

As my body regained consciousness, I leaned over the bed where I dry heaved, retching as nothing came out. My stomach clenched in pain, rolling over every time those haunting eyes appeared behind my eye lids.

When I stopped heaving, I just stayed there, mind numb as I watched my tears hit the floor. My mouth and throat felt dry and I coughed, my pitiful, quiet sobs being broken up every so often.

I felt the bed shift from behind me and a hand touched my scarred shoulder, making me flinch, causing the hand to retreat. I hung my head lower, ashamed. I wasn't alone, most likely have fallen asleep in Maverick's room.

When the hand landed on my lower back, near my waist, I sobbed harder. His was a gentle touch, one of concern yet full of uncertainty. It was hesitant, unlike the rough grasps that pulled at me in my nightmares, bringing forth a hope of comfort.

Slowly, the hand moved around me, an arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me backwards. I hunched over, curling into myself as I sobbed while being pulled towards the center of the bed. I felt vulnerable and weak, insignificant even. Just someone damaged that held no worth, just held the potential to be of value again.

Legs appeared on either side of mine and a chest strong pressed against my back as he leaned over, contorting to me. He pulled me flush to him by my waist, he free hand wrapping around my front and clasping the front of my unscathed shoulder. He held me close, rocking us back and forth as he whispered soothing words.

I broke down in his gentle hold and his comforting action. It was an ugly cry, one that turned your face red and had snot running down your nose. I didn't deserve such care, yet it was given to me when I needed it most.

"I-I'm-" I tried to speak but I found it hard to, my mine still wrapped around the haunting memory. I was almost in a daze, my body in between reality and a darker place that was my mind, on the verge of a panic attack.

"Shhh. No, don't speak. Just relax."

Trying to tune out her memories, the viscous inner voice of hers, I focused on his voice. As he spoke, his low, hushed voice send gentle vibrations through my back. His whispers swayed my hair, tickling the skin on my neck with his warm breaths. Though the tears didn't stop, the sobs were suppressed, turning into small hiccups.

My hands were still trembling as I unclenched the sheets in front of my folded legs. Bringing them up, I attempted to wipe the tears from my face, my skin ice cold which felt soothing on my hot, tear stained face. I pathetically sniffled, the snot ticking my nose and I already knew it was on my face. I was mess.

"Here." Maverick unraveled his arm that held my shoulder and reached over, grabbing the tissue box that was sitting on his nightstand. He placed it in front of me, allowing me to still hide my face as I tried to clear my face of snot and tears, even though they still leaked from my eyes.

"I-I'm sorry." My voice cracked and my lip quivered.

"No, no." He shushed me, holding my trembling hands that still clutched a used tissue, his hands warming mine. "It's okay. Its okay."

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I repeated, whispering into the air, not know if it was meant for him or if was apologizing for my past, in which I will never be able to forgive myself. The tears being to flow heavily down my face again and I tried to hide a sob behind my hand, cupping it over my mouth to muffle the sound.

"Come here." The arm that was still around my waist gently guided me to turn and face him. He tilted my head up by my chin, wiping away some of my tears with his thumbs. "It's okay. I'm not mad." He shook his head offering me a small, sad smile. His was was still blotchy and his voice was still nasally. He was still unwell and now I was causing him grief.

"I-I didn't mean to. I-"

"Shh." He softly cut me off, pulling me into his chest. His arm wrapped around my waist while the other help my head to his neck. "I know. I know." He reassured me.

I adjusted myself in his hold, placing my legs on either side of his hips, wrapping my arms around his neck as I pulled myself closer. I was tired. Tried of being alone. Tried of the nightmares and the memories. Tired of behind haunted by the past. Tired of behind tired.

Yet, here in his arms, I felt safe. His bare chest was pressed directly to me, his warmth transferring to me, making me sink into his hold, relaxed. His thumb rubbed my back with his fingers ran through my hair. We sat in silence, listening to each other's breathing the the occasional sniffle I made. It was here, in his arms, that I didn't want to leave.