Soar With Me (✔️)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲

Evelyn

I fell asleep due to exhaustion, but not because I wanted to.

My eyes open expecting morning, but it doesn't look like morning at all.

The blinds are pulled in front of my windows and the room is drenched in semi-light. I always sleep with them open so if Miles and the alarm both fail, I still have mother nature to wake me up.

Turning over my bed I find Miles sleeping with his paw laid over me like a protective arm. My eyes watch the pattern of his breathing and odd calm fills my lungs like a breath of fresh air.

Miles hasn't left me. Even when he was away he was close to me. His eyes were attentive to every move my body was making.

I know he wouldn't understand if I'd describe the event to him, but I know he'd be able to understand my emotions. And somehow that's all I want from him.

My body is tired down to my soul. My bones are aching as if they've been crushed under a roller. And my heart is weakly beating in my heart as if half of it has been destroyed.

Do the victims feel like this?

The question brings back memories instead of answers, and I feel the weight of yesterday falling over my today.

Like a movie, each dialogue and action replays in front of my eyes, and my chest packs with so much air that it becomes difficult to breathe.

I find it hard to breathe sometimes. It's such a simple thing but at times I can't do it.

Practicing some tricks I regulate my breathing and look outside my room. The living room is flooded with sunlight and I can hear footsteps thudding over my carpeted floor.

Warren is here.

The accident plays like a loop in my head, but the events that took place afterward are also lingering in there.

The way Warren held me, talked to me, showered me, helped me wear clothes, fed me, and calmed me. Those are the gold specks floating in the sea of darkness that was my yesterday evening.

I see Warren peeking inside the room and freezing in place when he finds me awake. A soft smile tugs his lips apart as he leans against the door frame.

He mouths hello to me and a warm feeling evokes in the dark pit of my stomach.

A tiny smirk plays on his lips as he walks over to me.

Warren sits beside me on the bed and I turn sideways so I'm facing him.

Proceeding with his hand he swipes my bangs away from my eyes and then runs his knuckles over my cheek.

"Comment va ma fille préférée."

"I'm okay." I have no idea what he asked.

A raspy chuckle leaves his mouth and he continues touching me. "You don't even know what I asked?"

"Whatever you asked, that's my answer." Speaking feels like such a difficult task because my throat is rough like gravel.

"My French is rubbing off on you." I don't know about French but Warren rubbing my cheek is giving me feels that are too complicated to be explained.

My eyes close on their own as I feel safety and comfort surrounding me. His presence appears to be like a scented candle you lit before going to bed.

"Wake up. I made breakfast for you." Warren pokes my cheek with his finger and I find that so cute.