Page 64 of Cut Me Down

Ashia

I can still feel his warmth from last night surrounding me. His touch was soft, and tender. Comforting. Every one of his movements was an attempt to absorb my sadness, my trauma. By the time I was able to calm down, I was so embarrassed with myself I thought I would die right there. But the way he wrapped his arms around me was so inviting and uplifting, I wanted more of it. It felt so good to close my arms around him at that moment. It was like how I felt in the hospital after the terrible night from my nightmares and Richard ran into my hospital room. I felt safe and encased in care, like nothing was ever going to hurt me again.

Damien’s been so gentle with me this morning. He even woke up before my alarm, turned it off, and gently woke me up. Caressing my face and whispering sweet nothings in my ear until my eyes fluttered open. Surprisingly, I woke up still wrapped in my favorite blanket, but I was even more astonished when his arms were still wrapped around me. My fear of abandonment trudged through my mind like a race horse after he carried me from the bathroom to the bed. Wondering if this was the final straw that would push him away completely. Instead, when I woke up, there he was. Combing my scalp with his fingers and making me feel like I was the most precious thing in the world. From how alert and steady he was, it made me wonder if he slept at all. I wasn’t sure what time I woke up in that panic, but I slept really good afterwards.

He even let me shower alone this morning. Which was both comforting and strange. We’ve showered together since he came into my life, but he knew I needed space and time this morning. The shower felt colder than usual, and I actually missed his added heat, but the extra time I allowed myself to sit under the warm rain was necessary.

As the warm water cascaded around my body, I tried to wash away the memories from those nights. The ache between my legs did little to dissolve them. I kept trying to remind myself that it wasn’t the same, and those years of my life were over and long gone, but the dreams always feel so real, and they’ve never blended together like they did last night. Normally, I only get the burden of one night or the other. Last night’s double feature was new for me.

My thoughts were brought back to Richard. How when DCFS insisted that I return to my parents after that horrific birthday six months prior, I thought they were going to arrest him. It broke my heart to get in my case workers car. I watched as the police detained Richard, and Marla held Ser back so they wouldn’t do the same to her. They knew going back was a terrible idea, and that whatever bullshit my parents fed them was a lie, but it didn’t matter to the agents.

I hate that I reacted like that in front of Damien. The moment he woke up, I could see the worry on his face. I knew that he wouldn’t hurt me, but my mind was racing, and it was like I could still feel and smell them at that moment, and I just needed to get away to try to compose myself and calm down. But the moment I slammed the door, and I saw the pain in his face, I felt terrible on top of everything else. His pleas from the other side of the door were desperate, and I knew he just wanted to help me, but my fucked-up self didn’t know how to let him. I panicked, and the moment I couldn’t breathe I truly thought I was fucked.

A part of me wants to be angry with him. Blame him for triggering those feelings, but there’s no sense in that. It’s not his fault I'm so messed up. He isn’t one of my rapists, and as weird as this relationship has been, I will never think of him as one. As much as I don’t want to admit it to myself sometimes, I want to have sex with Damien. I did the moment his hands touched me at the bar. I’ve even started looking forward to it. His methods of initiation may be a little different than others, but I truly feel that if I said no, and meant it, he would stop. I'm not scared of him like I should be. I never was. It’s like there’s a part of me that’s familiar to him. Like there’s a part of him that’s been missing from me, and I’ve found it again.

He's been giving me space this morning, and while I appreciate it, it’s also much different than I’ve grown used to the past several days. I wish we could go back to bed and start over. Pretend like last night never happened, but then I’d lose the sweet comfort I felt from him, and I don’t want that either. I wish I wasn’t such a mess. I want to talk to him. Help him understand why I’m like this, but then the fear of him leaving settles back in. Why would he want to stick around someone who is so traumatized? He deals with that every day, he doesn’t want to come home and deal with it there too.

I realize I'm stuck in my thoughts when I look down at my coffee to see the swirling vortex I’ve created, taking my spoon with it. Spinning it in circles even as I let go of it. After I set my spoon down in the base of the sink, I grab my coffee and turn to see the large wall of muscle standing directly behind me. A shrieked gasp flies out of my mouth as the short burst of fear ricochets through my chest.

“God, how do you do that? Are you a ninja or something?” I say through bated breath, as he laughs, and the hefty sound quickly soothes the fearful sting. Everything about this man is comforting. From the sound of his voice, to the feeling of his skin, and everything in between.

“I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He says with a smile.

“Apology accepted.” I smirk as I take a sip. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“You don’t have to thank me every morning, Ashia.” His face softens.

“Well, you don’t have to make it every morning.” I say back in a snarky tone as I grin at him.

“I know I don’t have to.” He smirks and I lift my cup to him, offering him some. He takes it with sly movements and sips. His eyes widen before he forces himself to swallow. “Did you want coffee with your creamer?” He laughs and I take my cup back, almost sloshing the liquid inside over the edge.

“Well not everyone likes to drink it black like you, psycho.” He laughs again. “Do you even have taste buds left?” I sip on it again.

“Yeah, nice adult ones. You and your kiddie taste buds are missing out.” He smirks before taking my cup and taking another sip.

“See? My childish taste buds aren’t so terrible.” I stick my tongue out at him, and his eyes briefly flash with a hint of hunger, but then he pushes it away and the look is gone. While I know he’s doing it because of last night, it still stings a little. I don’t want him to treat me any differently than he has been.

“Oh no, I just needed to make sure that it still tasted like melted ice cream.” He laughs and hands it back.

“Ass.” He kisses my forehead and walks over to the cabinet to grab the to-go mug he’s claimed for himself. “You have a busy day today?” I inquire in my poor excuse to change the subject.

“Not too bad. So far it’s just paperwork and profiling, but we’ll see what pops up. Here lately, something always does.” He sighs, almost painfully. “You okay this morning?” He looks into my eyes sweetly.

“Yeah, I feel much better. Thank you, for last night.” He looks me over with a determined stare.

“Ashia, you never have to thank me for taking care of you. I like doing it, and I like you. I want to take care of you. You're not a burden. I just want you to be okay, and I'll always do whatever it takes to make sure you are.” His look is sincere, and soft.

“Well, I appreciate it all the same.” He grins at me before walking up and kissing my cheek.

“I got to head out. I'll see you tonight.” He lightly caresses my jaw before walking out of the front door, and I lean on my counter to watch the now empty entry way. Secretly hoping he’ll walk back in because he forgot something.

Kiddie taste buds.

I look down at my coffee in confusion, and it is rather sweet and very pale. Especially compared to how he drinks his. I’ve never really tried coffee another way. Ser gets some iced latte something when she buys coffee in the morning, but I don’t have a clue on how to make that, and I certainly don’t have money to buy coffee every morning like she does.

There is that coffee shop next door…

Fuck it. I pour out my cup, grab my keys, and head downstairs. Treading lightly and stepping on the right side of the stairs so the wood doesn’t creak and groan.

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