Stars Don't Judge

II

Right before I can be sucked away by the wind, an arm reaches out and grabs mine, sucking me away from my well deserved fate. I'm pulled into a tight grip by muscular arms. My own arms crossed over my chest as he holds them there in place.

I start to struggle in them. Thrashing and kicking and screaming,

"No! Please! I have to! Please let me jump! Please! You don't understand!"

His grip tightens around me.

"Love, I need you to calm down, okay? You don't want to do this. Just take a deep breath, okay?" He speaks to me. His voice a mix of pleading and comfort.

It's only then that I realize how heavily I'm breathing. I force myself to seize my thrashing, and become still in his arms, before I start sobbing. His grip only becomes tighter. Not in a suffocating way, but a way that grounds me to the earth. He pulls me over the railing and back onto the walkway.

What have I done?
What was I thinking?
Am I insane?

The thoughts race around my head as I sobbed. His hold never once seizing. I don't know how long we stood there for. It was long enough for my sobs to turn into quiet sniffles.

It was then that he decided to speak, "If I let go, can you promise me you won't jump?"

His grip never lessened as he spoke. As if he was afraid of my answer. I nodded my head. I don't think I could do it now. The adrenaline long gone, replaced with a wave of exhaustion.

"I need words, love."

"I won't jump."

Hesitantly, he starts to unwrap his arms from around me. He grabs my shoulders and turns me around to face him. Hands on my shoulders he says,

"You're going to be okay."

I don't know what it was about him. Maybe the sincerity in his eyes. Maybe it was the way he held onto me like I had meaning in this world, or maybe it was the way he stared down at me, his green eyes holding the epitome of truth, but I believed him.

And for once, the voice was quiet.

———

When I had calmed down enough he spoke again,

"I'm gonna walk you to my car okay?"

I nodded my head numbly, not being able to create words. My brain not in the right place to convince me he was a stranger. He held a light grip on my upper arm as he started to walk me back to wherever his car was.

Even though I had never met this man in my life, I felt a strange comfort with him. I finally decided to take a look at him. He looked nervous. Relieved. You could see the emotions and thoughts racing through his head. The wind blowing his hair around his face. He had a nice facial structure. A sharp jawline, clean face. He was handsome, I'll admit.

Hand still on my arm, he glanced at me and I looked away, putting my head down. I was all of a sudden ashamed by my actions. The guilt filling me up for reasons I'll never know.

When I looked back up, I could see a rather nice black car pulled over to the side of the road, the yield lights flashing their rhythm. I glanced back at him as we finally reached the car, his hand still on my arm. He opened the passenger door and I numbly got in. While he made his way around the car, I sat awkwardly, watching my hands fiddling with themselves in my lap. I looked up when he opened the driver door. I watched as he sat down and shut the door.

He sat there staring at his lap for what felt like hours, but what was probably only a minute, before I decided I should say something,

"I-," I paused. What do I even say? Do I tell him about the voice? No. He'd think I was weird and throw me back to the bridge. I looked back down to my lap suddenly overwhelmed with what happened. So many thoughts racing through my head.
"I- I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I don't even know what I was doing. I was just so panicked and the- the voice, he said, he said that I—," I began to blurt out until his voice interrupted me.

"Hey, it's okay. Calm down. Take a deep breath, it's okay."

I didn't even realize how heavily I began to breathe until he placed his hand on my arm. I forced myself to take a breath and decided not to speak again. I looked back down at my lap and began to play with my hands again. A nervous habit of mine.

After some more awkward silence he finally says, "Is there somewhere I can take you? Like your home?"
He starts up the car and starts driving to get out of the way of traffic

I keep my head down watching my hands, "I um, I don't have a home."

I said it so quietly, I didn't think he heard me.

As we slow down at a red light he looks over to me, confusion written on his face as his eyebrows scrunch together.

"Then where do you live?"

"Nowhere I guess," I say as I shrug my shoulders.

The light turns green as he turns his attention back to the road.

"Would it be okay if I brought you back to my place? I know that might sound weird because you don't really know me, but I want to make sure you're gonna be okay."

As he was talking he kept his gaze on the road, only sparing me a glance every couple of seconds. I thought over his words. I really don't know him. He could be a serial killer for all I know. I don't even know his name. At that thought, I looked over at him,

"What's your name?"

He looked over at me before answering, "Killian. And yours?"

Great. Even his name has the word kill in it.

"Claira."

"Lovely to meet you Claira."

I gave him the best smile I could muster.

"So would it be okay?"

I gave him a questioning look.

"To come to mine, I mean."

His hands gripped the steering wheel, anxiously awaiting my answer.

"Sure."

What's the worst that could happen?

———