A Pinch of Cinnamon

It's Okay to be Sad

Nick's POV.

My eyes instantly search her body for any sign of injury. She is huddled on the floor, curled in the fetal position, with her back against the bathtub. Her arms are wrapped around her body. It looks like she was getting ready for a shower. Her shirt and shorts were discarded on the floor leaving her in just her undergarments.

She doesn't look at me, just continues to cry softly. I glance over her body once more to ensure she is not hurt.

My eyes catch a long, jagged scar running along the outside of her hip and thigh.

What the hell?

"Oh, Baby girl." My heart is breaking for her. She tenses at my voice but doesn't look at me. She continues to shake and tremble as sobs wrack her body. She tries hard to keep them contained but they come out sounding more like she is choking. I don't know what is going on but now isn't the time for questions.

I lean down and gently scoop her into my arms. She tenses for a few seconds before relaxing. One arm tentatively wraps around my neck, grasping the collar of my shirt, while the other rests on my chest. I tighten my grip on her, feeling relief at having her in my arms. I walk out to her bed and place her into it. Her eyes widen in shock as I pull my t-shirt over my head, exposing my torso. I gently slip it on over her head, helping her put her arms through until it hangs loosely over her.

I wanted to make her as comfortable as possible. I help her lay down before covering her with the blanket. I walk to the other side of the bed, her eyes following me. I slip in and move to her side. She doesn't speak as I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her closer to me. I wrap one arm around her so that her head rests on it and the other one gently strokes her side. I kiss the top of her head, remaining quiet. She sighs and begins to nuzzle closer to me, finding solace in my comfort. Her hand begins to creep up to lay on my bare chest. Her soft cries turn to occasional whimpers.

I continue rubbing her waist and arm until she begins to drift off to sleep.

***********

Spencer's POV

I woke up unnaturally warm. I kept my eyes closed and just basked in the safe warmth that was around me. The odd feeling of peace after a break down.

My eyes snapped open at the feeling of my scar being lightly traced. It was an ugly reminder of everything that happened. I hated it with a passion and had tried everything short of surgery to make it fade. But, having Nick's calloused hands drifting along the line of it, it made me feel somewhat proud that I had survived. I was here and living my life that my parents would have wanted. The friction caused by his rough hands on my soft skin made me shiver. He knew I was awake because the next thing I felt was his lips on the junction of my shoulder, softly caressing me. I was laying on my right side, my head still on his arm that was underneath me. But he was now cuddled close, his chest against my back as his fingers traced me. I felt safe, warm, and loved.

I don't deserve him. Or this. I let my past push me into a deep depression and I let it consume me. I sighed and shifted around so that I was facing the man, who, in the past week, has showed me what it could be like to be loved. His eyes held no judgement, just concern. I didn't know what to say. Sorry for having to constantly make you deal with my issues? I sigh.

He tilts his head slightly in question but doesn't voice anything. He seems to know before I do exactly what I need. Instead of asking any questions when he first found me, he just showed me care and compassion. His finger comes up to catch a tear that slips from my eye. He gently brushes it away and tightens his hold on me.

"I'm sorry" I whisper. He doesn't need to be caught up in my mess. His eyes squint in confusion.

"Sorry for what?"