Lost Girl

Chapter 14

A/N Ok I know this took a while but I got a job and stuff and whew.
This is a TRIGGER WARNING. SERIOUSLY. DO NOT READ THE ITALICS IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE IT.
Love you guys!

Diana

In the back of my mind, this little voice was screaming that he was too close too close too close, and that I needed to get away from him, but the words were drowned out by the rushing of blood in my ears and the sound of my heart skipping beats. I put my hands on his shoulders--to pull him closer or push him away, I'm not sure--but it was over before I could do either of those things. His arm was still around me, and he didn't move away, but the look on his face told me more than the kiss had itself. 

He hadn't meant to do that, hadn't thought it through, and obviously he felt horrible. It was written so clearly, so well defined, that I just wanted to lift my hand and use it like an eraser to wipe away the worry. 
"I--I...I'm so...I can't believe." He stuttered, eyes roving over my face. 
I wanted to reassure him, tell him that it was ok, that I was fine, but when I opened my mouth nothing came out. I don't know if it was shock or if it was the fear--not of him but the fear that was instinctual, the fear of getting too close to a man with the power to hurt destroy hit--that kept the words in my mind, but either way it was the worst possible timing. 

His arm dropped from my waist and he stumbled backward, still with this expression that, had I been a different person, I would've called disgust. I knew better, knew that he was regretting his actions, but I don't think it had occurred to him that he was more panicked than I was. 
"Dude, nice job." Michael laughed, clearly oblivious to Calum's plight. 

"Ah...I'm gonna..." Calum mumbled, turning and walking back down the hallway to the dressing room. I watched him leave, a bit disappointed but feeling--in the same way that someone feels eyes watching them or  a ghost in the room, with shivers up the spine--that the panic I had managed to stave off before was making its way back to me. 
I swallowed hard, avoiding the stares of the other boys as I made my way into the room Ashton and I had hidden in. 

When I flipped on the light, I saw that it was actually a supply closet, for the janitors. I shut the door behind me with a click, hoping that they'd get the hint and they wouldn't follow me or anything. 
I cleared a spot in the small space and sat down, curling my knees up to my chest and resting my chin on them. Was I upset that he'd kissed me? Not for the reasons I should be; I didn't mind that I hadn't given him permission, and I didn't mind that he'd done it in front of his friends. 

What bothered me was the feelings it brought forward when I had thought I was finally doing better. I thought maybe I'd be able to get close to Calum, that I'd be able to get past the stupid things that have held me back and made it hard for me to get close to anyone--not just men, although it seems like it's harder to be around them than it is being around women.

Things were going so well--we'd been on the couch the whole night and I hadn't panicked when I woke up to him wrapped around me. I'd been fine. I sat next to him, I was close to everyone in the booth, I held hands with him. Why now? 

Of course, that was the moment that I lost the ability to think past the images shoving themselves into my mind. 
"Daddy, I got an A on my report card!" I call, skipping into the house. 

Oh please, not this one, I try to beg my conscious, please not this. 

There's a happy smile on my small face, my Mary Janes squeaking on the kitchen tile as I run to find my father. My wild hair is somewhat tamed into a tight pony tail, and my dress has a spot where I spilled some cranberry juice earlier that day. When I see him at the table, I plop my Hello Kitty backpack down and rifle through it to find the paper. As a child, the tension in the air didn't register with me--I didn't know something was wrong. He didn't make a move to take what I held, so in the way of children who want to be noticed, I waved it in his face and finally slid it in front of him. 
"Look daddy!" I grin, and it's when I'm leaning over to point at the grade that it happens. 

His hand is a blur I can't follow, the sound ringing in my ears. I hit the ground hard, my weight not enough to even register to him. I let out a startled cry, putting a hand up to my face where the sting was starting to blossom. I put the other one on the ground to push off of the ground with, to get up. 
"Daddy?" I whisper, the tears welling up in my eyes and blocking him from my view. 
"Shut up!" He yells, and his form, though blurry, is leaning over me. 
Like the hand, I don't notice the booted foot until it slams into my side. 

"Stop! Please stop!" I scream, clutching my head and trying to block out the memory playing like a movie in my mind. 

"This is your fault!" My father's voice yells at my prone body, another kick landing close to the other one. I try to make a noise, something that will make him stop, but I can't get enough air in my painful lungs to do anything more than breathe. I try to curl up into a more protected ball, trying to save my tender stomach and face. 
"You did this to us!"  He growls, and I can feel the glass before it even hits my body, slicing my dress and my bare legs as the bottle breaks on me. The shards are lodged deeper with every hit, every kick, every movement. 

"It wasn't me! I didn't do anything!" I sobbed, rocking back and forth. 
"Diana!" It was distant, a far away voice that I barely heard. "Diana, it's ok! You didn't do anything." 
"D-" I try to gasp, but I don't get much more out before I cough blood. That seems to snap him out of it, and he curses as he roughly grabs my body and carries me to the car. 

"I didn't do it." I cry, and hands are grabbing mine and yanking them from my face. 
"Diana!" It's sharp, like it's a knife cutting through butter, and I see hazel staring back at me. 
"A-Ashton?" The name trembles on my lips.
"Yeah. I know I'm probably not who you want to see, but Calum isn't close right now."
The shaking starts inside me, deep down, before it spreads like a wild fire to the rest of my body. Soon enough, I was shaking so hard my teeth were chattering. 
"Diana, you didn't do anything. Whatever he blames you for, he's wrong." Ashton grips one of my hands, holding on like he doesn't want me to slip away again. 

"It--it's not..."
"I know you're not thinking about Calum. I know it's your father. It's ok." 
I look at him, sitting across from me in this tiny cramped space, and I wonder what happened to him that he knows what I'm going through so well. 
"My sister...our father..." He struggles to get the words out, to explain it to me. 
"I'm not his daughter." I interrupt him, hoping he understands that he doesn't need to force himself to tell me anything. 
"He was angry with me because I was the face of my mother's betrayal. She'd had an affair. He'd suspected, but it wasn't until he got the blood test back that he knew for sure. And then...he couldn't stand to look at me anymore." 

The tears were still falling, still running down my face. I looked around for a tissue, something to stop the snot I could feel about to drip from my nose, and he handed me a paper towel. I blew my nose into it, hating the gross sound, before I continued. 
"He...He'd been drinking when I got home. The one I just...the flashback I just had was the first time he'd ever hit me. After that, it was the whole family taking out their anger on me. It happened so regularly that I just got used to it. And...and it was the men who hit harder than my mom does." I whispered, wiping my face with the back of my hand. 

"Your father is an class A dickhead, and I'd gladly kick his ass if he were standing here." He cursed, looking away from me. I patted his hand and smiled a little, thankful that I had him to lean on. That I had someone who seemed to understand what I was going through. He'd started to explain, but I'm smart enough to recognize that the timing wasn't right for him to tell anything of that nature to me. 

"Yeah, if I could I would. I'm sorry...you had to see that." I told him, averting my eyes. 
Being grateful that he was there didn't mean that I was ok with him seeing me like this. I'm glad he pulled me out of the tornado of my memory, but I'd rather deal with the physical aftermath by myself. 

"It's ok, I get it. I know how hard it is to deal with, trust me." He said, patting my knee. 
I stared at his giant hand, a little confused. Where did half of my leg go, and why wasn't I upset that he was touching me? 
"What happened? Is she ok? God, I'm such an idiot." I heard, and then Calum was shoving Ashton out of the way to crouch in front of me. 

When he saw my face, he swore and reached out a hand like he was going to brush it down my cheek, but he pulled back. His hand curled into a fist and moved to his lap, but he pretended like it hadn't happened. 
"I'm so sorry, it won't happen again. I'm such a dumbass. Are you ok? How do you feel?" He sounded so worried that I couldn't help myself, even though I knew it was probably a stupid idea; I touched his mouth with my fingertips, so lightly I could barely feel his skin, and then I drew back. 

"It's ok, Calum. I'm alright. It was just a momentary lapse, that's all. And honestly, I didn't mind the kiss; it was unexpected, I didn't have time to prepare, which is probably why I had a panic attack. I liked it, Calum, in the moment I liked it." I confessed, staring at the ground. 
"You...liked it?" The surprise in his voice amused me. 

"Yeah, I'm just sad it didn't last longer." I joked, though I know both of us realized I probably would've passed out if it had lasted any longer. 
"Would I...do you think I'd be able to do it again sometime?" I glanced up at him when he said that, a slow grin spreading on my face. 
I wasn't over it--not by a long shot--and it would probably come back when I got back to the hotel and no one was watching, but right now I feel like I can push it back until I have the time to deal with it uninterrupted. 

"I wouldn't mind." I whispered.