“I’m sorry,” I whisper hopelessly, clinging onto him and snuggle closer, wanting so badly to just climb inside his skin and feel more secure. Suddenly full of remorse. I don’t even know at what, and wanting nothing else than this here right now, him and me, like we used to be. That cool poised version of him has drifted away and the anxiety inside of me lessens a little.
“What am I going to do with you, Mimmo?” Arrick has lost that edge to his tone too, lost his anger when faced with me in real heartfelt tears, sobbing my broken heart out and clinging desperately to him. “Sophie, you can’t keep going on like this. You’re hurting yourself and everyone who loves you. This is hurting me.” He moves his arms down to encircle my waist, so he can angle his face down to mine as best he can, trapping my arms under his so I can’t maneuver away. Holding me so I can’t walk off when I console myself, or storm away if I don’t like what he wants to say. He knows me too well.
“I know.” I sniff back the waterworks and try to tilt my chin lower, so he can’t get eye to eye with me. I don’t want him to see the mess I get in when I cry. I hate being vulnerable and weak and looking this terrible up close and personal.
“Then talk to me, tell me what’s going on in here.” He lets go with one hand and gently taps my forehead, moving a stray hair away from my face and tucks its highlighted blondness behind my ear softly, close enough to me that I can breathe his air. His proximity is soothing, even if it makes it impossible to dodge that intense look.
“I can’t … I don’t even know anymore.” I cry hopelessly some more, his strong arms find their way back around me snugly, comforting me and making me feel safe. That aching loneliness dispersing like it always does when I am with him. The only time that deep throb of nothing gives me a break in life.
“Are you still seeing your therapist?” He nudges me with his forehead to make me look up at him and I do so obediently, automatically, without thought. On some level, he still has the ability to make me obey him anyway, even if it is only subtle things like this.
I feel like it has done all it can for me and we’re just rehashing the same old shit. I want to move on from the past and leave it in my wake, not talk it over and keep it fresh in my broken head.
with random men, day in and day out, is doing nothing but harm to you, Sophs. I can’t stand seeing you this way, and I might not be there the next time some asshole takes a pop at you.” His
make me flinch, gut aching with the familiar pang of guilt he always makes me feel when faced with my behavior. Except
to the surface make their way
doesn’t take much coaxing for that verbal pain to spew out when he
pull back from the verge of hysterical tears that rear their ugly head from deep down. Arrick smooths more hair from my face, calming the internal stormy waves as he regards me solemnly. Absorbing my words, his own face showing signs of wavering emotion as his eyes glaze a little too. Hurt because I’m hurting. “I’m ashamed of who I’ve become.”
as gentle as the Arrick I have always known and loved. This is the boy who held me tight through tears after every day of court against my father, giving me the strength to face him head-on. Who held my hand and drove me to counseling for years on end and stayed ever present when I couldn’t face it alone. This is the boy who took me under his wing and became the steady shield and solid foundation I so desperately needed in my life. This has been the missing force of late and his reappearance
as though a tap has been left open, but Arrick holds me tight, anchoring me, being my steady ground and solid rock once
Arrick tilts back his shoulders and head to see me better, lifts my chin to him once more. So much seriousness in that gentle
his jacket and curling myself into that strong hard chest. Taking my cues from him, knowing this is
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