THE DEVIL'S AFFECTION

6. HE SEES FEAR

          I'M AFRAID. I'll admit it. I'm used to being a punching bag — I'm an object to men like Hanes. Sure, he's tried to prove himself by attempting to show that he doesn't want to dehumanize me a few times, but his actions still lack in that area.

It's not even as if he sees me as an object. Sometimes it seems as if he doesn't see me at all. I think I prefer it.

I get dressed in my new sweater and sweatpants before he comes out of the shower with a towel around his waist. His long hair is still wet and drips onto the carpet. His body is rather toned, he has scars on his left upper arm and a few on his back but the abstract tattoos splayed across his body distract from them.

It's clear that he's a little less heated than before but still angry. He looks over to me as I stand uncomfortably by the bed waiting for his next move.

"Where did you get those clothes? Is that what you picked out today?" He grimaces in my direction.

"Yeah... they were cheap and I wanted something comfortable." I grab my arm, feeling a need to comfort myself.

He doesn't say anything but instead continues to walk across the room and towards his luggage where he sifts through it for some clothes.

I stand still, awaiting further instruction.

He grabs his clothes and turns around, facing me.

"What are you waiting for?"

"Hm?"

"You're standing there and looking at me as if I'm the devil."

The way you spoke to me moments before made me question if you were one of them.

"I'm just... I'm waiting to see what you want me to do."

"I've told you this before, Viv. You don't have to be so tense." He seems irritated by my discomfort.

You frightened me.

"I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing and just... be." He directs, frustrated as he turns away and begins to undress.

I stare for a moment, looking away after realizing that it's not my job to watch him undress. He wants me to continue on as I would if he weren't here. Truth is, I would like to go to sleep. I doubt he wants me to sleep but that's what I want right now.

I head for the bed, pulling up the covers that are taut and folded into the bed frame. I crawl into bed, facing away from him, trying to keep to myself while he does whatever he needs to do.

To my surprise, moments later, I feel the bedsheets pull on the other side of the bed as he undoes his side and joins me.

He doesn't say another word but when I hesitantly turn my head around, I see that he's facing away from me as well.

I take a quiet deep breath and turn my head back over in an attempt to fall asleep. I'm not relaxed at all. I rarely sleep in stranger's beds but when I do I get terrible sleep. Last night, I barely slept but I was running off of adrenaline and curiosity today. Now, I can't sleep at all.

I want to imagine a scenario where I'm in a bed alone. I have my own hotel room and I work for myself. The doors locked and no one can get in without my keycard. I'm completely and utterly alone.

The thought comforts me but the intrusive reality that none of that is true shocks me right back up.

After fifteen minutes of laying in the dark, struggling to sleep, I listen to Hanes' breathing. His breaths become shallow and consistent, leading me to believe that he's asleep. Some part of this brings me comfort as I feel a little more alone and a little safer.

I close my eyes again and attempt to fall asleep once more. Just as I begin to drift off, I feel a shifting in the bed and an arm reaches over me.

I go stiff and I wait to see what he does next.

"It's not if..." he mumbles.

I have no clue what he said. I don't even know if that was English.

"You're come here..."

He's sleep talking.

Although I find myself uncomfortable with his arm over me, I know that moving it could mean waking him up so I lay still.

He adjusts again, getting closer to me and laying his head against mine.

He mumbles something that I can't hear.

"Hm?"

"I like you here..." he mumbles softly. "Please, don't go."

I know he's sleep talking and not making any sense, but I catch myself smiling softly anyway.

There's nothing more pure and vulnerable than someone asleep. He's not intimidating as he sleeps. He's peaceful and sweet. He holds me as if he's afraid of me getting away.

I'm sure a man like him craves affection. Everyone craves affection. I just know he probably doesn't get the right kind very often.

His hand lays on the bed in front of me as his arm lays over my waist. I see his fist falls loosely against the sheets and the veins in his hand appear as he clenches it softly before releasing it to fall loose again.

Maybe it's the fact that I haven't been held like this in a long time by someone who I didn't hate, but a part of me feels comfort in this. I'm used to having sex and leaving immediately. We didn't do anything but sleep and now he's holding me. I like being held. I just wish I could be held by someone who really loves me. I know he doesn't, I know he won't. But maybe for tonight, I can pretend.