What If Instead Of...

17 Aiden

Silence envelops the room.

There is an aching emptiness in my head, and indeed in my whole body.
I can hardly collect my thoughts, which is why I decide to just lie down and bask in Vivian's warmth hoping to fall asleep. Tomorrow I will lie to myself with make-believe confidence that everything happened today was a terrible dream.

Something tells me that if Vivian wasn't with me, I would have already got drunk, and then I would have started relieving stress by punching the face of another poor guy.
Although considering how empty I feel right now, most likely, the poor guy with the face punched and ass kicked would be me.

But, thank God, I have Vivian, and she miraculously always manages to fill my void.
Not fast, bit by bit, but still.

Maybe that's why I was so inexorably drawn to her?
It's as if she is a tender and sensitive part of me, which can show emotions, because all the other remnants of me are capable of is to wordlessly endure.

My soul can shed tears as much as it wants, however, I do not allow others to see tears in my eyes.

So it was until tonight.

Remembering how just recently my cheeks burned like molten metal, and how shamefully and uncontrollably I succumbed to feelings for the first time in many years, like a small offended child, I feel embarrassed in front of Vivian, who witnessed my breakdown.
I really want to believe she doesn't now consider me a wuss, unable to protect and support her; that I have not become a laughingstock in her eyes.

These thoughts break me out of my stupor and make me feel again.
Just not what I want.

Gritting my teeth and closing my eyes, I sigh heavily and slowly slide down a little lower along the bed to grab the girl lying on her side facing me by the waist. She immediately runs her fingers through my hair, and I nuzzle her stomach.

It's so comfortable to be silent with her.
Even without speaking, Vivian has a magical, calming effect on me.

You can communicate, laugh, hang out, sleep with many, but not everyone possesses the great power of healing silence.

In gratitude and from the tenderness overflowing me, I lift up the girl's T-shirt a little and kiss the naked part of her stomach, which takes her by surprise and freezes her for a split second, making her gasp almost inaudibly.

Quickly recovering from an unexpected gesture on my part, she begins to stroke my hair again.

No matter how good I feel in silence, I can't help but ask a question that is suffocating me from the inside, "Viv, do I look like my parents?"

I probably sound pathetic now and kill with my own hands the remnants of respect that the girl can still have for me, but it's really important for me to know.

Instead of answering, she takes her hand away from my head and slides along the bed so that she is facing me, then gently cups my face with her palm, searching my eyes, which makes my body involuntarily get goosebumps.

Despite the fact that we were already, as it seemed to me, as close as possible, this moment is the most intimate in my life.
I have finally comprehended that sacred level of intimacy, accessible to few people, when you feel understood and accepted for who you are.

"I don't know your parents, but I know you, and that's enough for me, because I don't want to compare. Even despite some resemblance, you are you, not them," Vivian suddenly breaks the silence and begins to brush my cheek soothingly with her thumb.

Does she realize that with her touches and words she is helping me now to be reborn from the ashes, like a burnt phoenix?
Hades probably feels such a powerful turn of life every time Persephone returns to him in the Underworld after long months of separation.