Page 86 of He Who Sleeps

"Sure," Carter said, showing her how to launch the ball while Easton tried to figure out if that was girl code for her wanting to snuggle on the couch but having to make out it was his idea for some reason. Women were complicated. The whole concept of snuggling was alien to him. It wasn't just that he felt weird about having someone in his personal space. No one had ever shown him that kind of affection.

He didn't know what to do. On one hand, this weekend had been about breaking boundaries for him. He'd pushed through his fear and anxiety and allowed himself to touch and be touched. But he felt on edge...one baby step away from a meltdown. How much was too much? Would this platonic contact trigger his violent feelings?

He didn't want to hurt Petra, not outside of a scene anyway, but he sensed that she was trying to get closer to him, wanting to be let in, and keeping her at arm’s length would hurt her, even though it wasn't his intention. He stood there uncertainly, watching as she and Carter launched the ball and played with Brutus, laughing and joking.

He envied Carter the ease he seemed to communicate with everyone around him. He wished he could be like that. One day he would. When all of this was over, he was going to find a good therapist. He had to if he was going to be the kind of man that Petra deserved. He had a lot to work out.

“Brutus is the best,” she said softly as she approached him and took a sip of her cocoa. “Though I’m excited to meet your lovely parrot.”

An image flashed through his mind of her with Niobe sitting on her shoulder, their heads bent together as though they were sharing secrets. He'd have to sketch it later. The image was adorable. "I'm sure she'll love you," he said awkwardly. "Look, Petra, I'm not good at this like the others. I'm not...well...socialized, I guess. When you say you brought a blanket in case I want to snuggle, but you know I don't like physical contact, is that your way of saying you want to snuggle?"

“I know you are feral, Easton, and that’s okay,” she offered. “You know how I feel about you, but I don’t want to push you, or make you feel upset so...” she shrugged. “I feel like I should leave the ball in your court, so to speak. Let you know I’m interested, and want these things with you, but not pressure you into it. I don’t want to be a burden on you or your mental wellbeing.” She gave him a small smile. “But yes, I very much want to snuggle under the blanket with you. If you don’t want to, it’s okay, too. No offense taken.”

"Then let me know you're interested. Don't let me try and figure out if there's some sort of secondary message." He quirked a lopsided smile. "I'm not the sharpest tool in the box, and the only experience I have with women, aside from you, is killing them. If you want to snuggle, say you want to snuggle, and then I'll decide whether or not I'm in." Piece said, he sat down on the seat and tried to make himself comfortable. "We can try it, but I'm not making any promises, okay?"

Her smile was huge, bright and perfect, and she nodded, settling in next to him, but not too close. “At your speed, Easton,” she said as she pulled her knees up and under the blanket she was settling. “And I’m sorry, I’ll try to be more direct with you going forward. I just didn’t want to make you feel like I thought you weren’t...I don’t know.” She shrugged, clearly trying to find the words.

"I know you're into me," he said. "You don't need to try too hard. I promise you I'll get there. I was just..." He swallowed, unused to being so open and vulnerable by choice. "I was just thinking that when this is over and we're back home, I want to find a therapist. I've never been to one before. I think I should. I want to be a better man...the kind of guy you deserve. And I know that takes work."

She leaned in. “Can I tell you something? I loved therapy. I love therapy now.” She smiled. “I don’t actually see someone anymore, not since I met you guys, but I do work from the tele-app. But without it I wouldn’t really be where I am right now. Therapy is cleansing and I’m proud of you for wanting to. It’s the first step.” She smiled and patted his shoulder, clearly wanting to do more. “You okay? I mean I know today has been a veritable shit show, and life altering in some massive fucking ways...” She blew out a breath. “For all of us.”

"I'm not okay," he admitted. "I found out this morning that my whole fucking life is a lie. That the people I thought were supposed to be my leaders, the guys I look up to and respect, dropped me off in an orphanage to be abused for my entire childhood."

She nodded softly. “And they will die for their bullshit. As is proper. You deserve every piece of revenge, to be coated in their blood, because each of them deserves to die horrible vicious deaths. I can’t...I can’t even begin to know what you went through, and I know it won’t make it better...” She turned her head to him. “But my heart hurts for you, Easton. All I want is to hug you, and help make you feel better one day.”

"I'm making progress," he said, actively forcing himself to relax into the seat next to her and feel her warmth. "I've been practicing. Small touches. I thought you'd noticed when you were dessert last night."

She giggled. “Holding your hand... It was...it made it that much better...but I’ll admit it makes me greedy for more time with you. You know what I want? Quiet time with you. Intimacy in the carnal sense is good, great and I’m down, but...I want the small hours, the ones where we don’t have to touch, just be together. Spend time in the same room, in our own heads, not having to talk, just be,” she offered.

"We can do that," he agreed, "and maybe...well...if you want to, you could maybe come to therapy with me. It might be easier for you to know parts of my history if I have someone to help me tell you."

She blinked at him "I...really? I would be honored to go and be your support." Her little finger touched his own under the blanket. "Thank you. I mean, really."

"I know I'm not like the others," he said. "I'm not warm or affectionate. I can't just fuck you anywhere and everywhere like the others can. But that doesn't mean I don't want you. It doesn't mean that my feelings run any less deep than the others'. I know you've doubted me, but I hope you know I'm trying."

"Easton, we never have to have sex if that's what you need to feel safe with me. We all have different needs. I want us to be right, you know?"

"I want to do that with you, though!" He hoped he didn't sound as agonized as he felt. "I want us to fuck like bunnies! I just can't seem to get out of my own way. It's like the moment someone touches my bare skin and I'm not in control of it, I get these violent flashbacks and I can't break out of them on my own. I know it's PTSD, but Carter helped me do some research, and there are some great treatments out there for it now. I just need you to wait for me and know that I'm trying."

She nodded with a smile. “I will, and I know you are, Easton. It would be sweeter knowing we waited.” She giggled. “And when it does happen, it will be so worth it. One step at a time, yeah?” Her little finger ran along his softly, a tease to let him know she was there, and wanted to be.

"I'm working with Carter." He blurted the words out before he could overthink it and tried to ignore the way his cheeks heated with shame and embarrassment. "He's always felt safe to me. He's so calm. And I thought maybe we could work out together what the worst triggers are. Maybe you could...I don't know. Maybe you could help. Would you feel comfortable with that? Talking to him or watching us be together, I mean."

She grinned. “Hell yes, seriously hell yes.” She leaned in farther. “He brings out the same in me...makes me feel safe. Even before I knew him, our play never scared me, I felt safe with him so I understand why he feels that way to you. He’s calm...he’s centered. It’s something I love about him.”

"It wouldn't scare you to see me freaking out?" He had to know. She obviously cared about him and it was hard to see people you care about suffering.

She was silent a few moments, seemingly mulling the question over. “I honestly don’t know, but I’m willing to try, and to endure to help you, Easton. You are so fucking special to me...so important to me.”

That warmed him in ways he didn't know how to put into words. "I feel the same about you," he told her. "I'm sorry I threatened to kill you when you took my mask off. I freaked out."

She chuckled softly. “It’s okay. I expected something like that, taking that risk and all. But thank you for apologizing for it. And I’m sorry I did it. I mean I’m not sorry I did because we are here but...if I had any idea...”

"How did Carter react the first time you saw him?" he asked curiously. He'd often wondered since they'd been unmasked, but hadn't found the time to ask his brother. "I've never really paid much attention to his scars, but I've seen the way people react to him in public. He doesn't go out much." He tamped down a swell of rage on behalf of his friend. People were shallow and cruel.

She gave a wistful smile. “He actually unmasked himself. And when I saw him...and I knew him...it was like...” she blushed hard. “Carter is my hero. What he does, how he takes up for the animals and makes sure they are safe... Someone that loves animals that much... He had my heart before I knew it was him. But seeing him, knowing he was my Plague...” Biting her lip, she thought a bit. “He was surprised I was so okay with it. And I don’t even notice them. What happened to him isn’t what he is, isn’t who he is. I know who he is and I love him for who he is, not what he looks like, though he’s sexy as fuck.” She giggled. “And it’s the same for you. What happened to you isn’t what and who you are, Easton. I see you, just like I see him.”

"I think it's easy to say that from the outside," he said thoughtfully. "From the inside, it's shaped everything that we are. Everything I suffered made me a killer. It brought me home to my family. I am filled with so. Much. Rage. And yet that pain and fury is what makes me a great artist. And Carter...his burns taught him patience and compassion. But the medical malpractice suit on his behalf made him extremely wealthy. It shaped his entire life. And his kinks. He knows more than anyone what it is to burn. He wouldn't be able to do what he does, or be your hero, if he hadn't been scarred so horribly as a child. We are both the sum of our suffering and always will be, even if the people around us don't fully understand the way it's shaped us or our lives."

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