Page 60 of Built to Fall
“I mean it,” Lina whispers, swaying slightly. “You always show up when I’m trying not to feel anything. Yet, you’re usually saving me at the same time.”
And then, before I can respond, she leans in. Her forehead rests against my chest, and her fingers curl around my bicep like she’s afraid of falling through the floor.
I don’t move. I let her be.
She exhales slowly, like maybe being still is the hardest thing she’s done all night. “I’m so tired, Grant.”
She’s not just talking about right now. Her words ring through the air like they have a permanent meaning, and something deep in my stomach churns at the idea of her still being this exhausted all the time, even after the hospital incident.
I nod, and even though she can’t see it, my chin still knocks against the top of her head. “I know.”
I wrap an arm around her shoulders, steady and firm, guiding her toward the stairs before she can say anything else that’ll undo us both. Her steps are uneven, but she doesn’t fight me and instead lets me lead.
It’s at that moment I make a decision that could very easily have disastrous consequences. “I’m taking you to bed, alright?”
Lina looks up at me, her brows furrowing in surprise. “Woah, woah—” Her voice comes out drunkenly loud, which makes her eyes widen at the sound.
“Not like that, Lina. I mean, I’m taking you upstairs so you can go tosleep.”
She relaxes the tiniest bit back into my touch, and it suddenly becomes much easier for me to lead her up the stairs toward one of the guest bedrooms.
I’m not sure how this is going to go, given her current sleep strike, but I’m willing to give it a shot.
Plus, her being drunk is somehow making her easier to handle and more relaxed in my presence. If she has any chance of going to sleep, now seems like the perfect time.
By now, almost everyone is gone from the main floor, and the house has settled into a kind of eerie quiet, the only sounds being the creak of the stairs beneath our feet and the faint thump of bass still humming from a speaker someone forgot to turn off.
Lina’s weight leans further into me with each step, her exhaustion folding in on itself like a wave finally breaking. I guide her into the room, flipping the light on low. It’s dim, warm, and just enough to see by.
She hesitates in the doorway, blinking like she doesn’t quite recognize where she is. Her voice is soft and tentative. “This is a rental house, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I say, steering her gently toward the bed. “You can crash here. I’ll take the couch.”
She plops down on the edge, robe shifting slightly, and I look away fast, like it’ll make a difference. She notices, of course.
I don’t address it and instead head toward the door.
“Wait,” I hear her call, her words fumbling over themselves.
Confused, I turn back around to face her. She’s still sitting on the very edge of my bed, not making any move to make herself more comfortable. “Yeah?”
“Will you stay?” Her voice comes out wobbly, and if I hadn’t been watching her drink all night, it would be the first true indicator of how drunk she is.
Under any normal circumstance, Lina would have never said that. Only in times like these is she willing to let her guard down and let me stay.
When I don’t respond right away, her eyes fill with tears. “Please?”
I crumble under her plea.
Wordlessly, I step back into the room, closing the door behind me. The click sounds louder than it should. She watches me with glassy eyes and smudged mascara, her bottom lip wobbling like she’s trying to hold it all together and failing miserably.
“I’ll stay. Don’t worry.”
Then, I toe off my shoes and cross the room, sitting beside her on the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under our weight, but we don’t touch. She’s staring at her hands in her lap as if they hold answers she’s not ready to speak aloud.
Silence wraps around us, thick and strange. I can feel her unraveling beside me, even as she tries to hold it together.
“I didn’t used to be like this, you know,” Lina says suddenly, her voice striking the quiet like a match to gasoline.
