Float On

Part 4

"Hello again," I say, suddenly bashful, as I grab one of the bags and sodas out of his hands and carry them to the coffee table with him close behind. I turn around and he almost runs right into me. Finding myself face to face with him, I'm already spellbound by his blue eyes.

"Hi to you too," he happily answers, quickly dropping his other bag and drink on the table before leaning in for a soft kiss. I ball my hands into fists to keep myself from shoving him onto the couch and pinning him down. There's something about him that makes it next to impossible for me to not act like a horny teenager. Maybe it's because of the shirts, I think as I eye his black shirt with little planets on it. Or those eyes. Or hair. Or pretty much anything and everything about him.

A bit lost in my daydream, I'm taken by surprise when he plops down on the couch, and I'm face to face with my own name, still floating above his head and mocking my inner turmoil. I try to slow down my breathing and stamp down the panic that is steadily rising in my throat.

"Are you ok?" Phil asks, tilting his head and looking at me as he starts taking boxes of food out of the bag. "You look like you just saw a ghost."

"I was just wondering," I say, grasping for words. "Do you think there's a chance we may have met before?" I finally blurt out as I join him on the couch.

Phil looks thoughtful for a few seconds. "No, I don't think so. Why? Where would we have met?"

"I don't know. I just thought that you feel really.....familiar."

He pauses before he looks up and smiles before leaning over and kissing my cheek, causing a little tremor to race through my body. "Familiar," he repeats. "That's a good way to describe it. I feel the same way about you."

Feeling myself getting emotional, I grab the remote and open up Netflix. "So, what kinds of things do you like to watch?" I ask, promptly changing the subject to something a little more benign.

"I'll pretty much watch anything," he answers absently as he searches around amongst all of the boxes. "Forks?" I put down the remote and go to fetch forks and two plates from the kitchen and when I get back, there's an episode of Buffy playing. I raise my eyebrows at him and he shrugs back at me apologetically as we start dishing out the food.

"I guess this is sort of a nosy question," Phil starts, "but you mentioned you were going through some stuff and didn't leave your apartment much. Is there anything you need help with?"

"That's actually really a sweet thing to ask," I reply with surprise. "My friends just kept telling me to 'get over it' or how to 'fix it.' After there was no quick fix, they just sort of all disappeared and stopped coming around. No one has ever asked if I needed any help with things before." We eat for a few more minutes in silence, watching Buffy. For the first time, I actually want to share what I'm going through with someone, but I'm terrified he's going to go running out the door if he knew all of the details, which would be tragic for a few reasons. First, I am completely head over heels for him. I wasn't kidding when I said he feels familiar, like he belongs in my life on a daily basis. Second, if he leaves, I'll never know why he has my name floating over him. I don't think I could live the rest of my life not knowing the answer to that.

"So, I started having really extreme issues with depression and anxiety," I start out cautiously, staring down at my plate. He grabs the remote and hits the mute button, turning to face me so he knows I have his full attention. "It got so bad I couldn't leave my apartment to go to work or just do everyday life things. I ended up quitting and downsizing a lot, as you can see by this tiny place. However, the longer I stayed isolated, the harder it was to actually leave and go out into the real world. I keep myself afloat from YouTube, Patreon, and doing custom artwork for people, which is actually a pretty cool way to make a living. " I glance up to see if Phil is still listening and find that he's looking at me intently, waiting for me to continue.

"I spend a lot of time out on the balcony," I continue, gesturing at the sliding door, "and I have a perfect view of the coffee shop, so my goal was to be able to go across the street and get myself a coffee. I haven't really gotten any further past that, but sometime soon I'm hoping to get a little further."

I watch Phil, nervously waiting for him to say something, but to my surprise, he pulls me into a tight hug, which I gratefully return, melting into his chest. Even though I didn't reveal everything, I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders.

"Would it help if we went to a new place together?" he asks.

"Maybe. Part of why I'm able to go to the coffee shop is because since I can see it from here, I know what to expect and how crowded it's going to be which helps the anxiety."

"There's an amazing burger place on this street about a block over. What if I took some pictures for you so you know what it looks like and then maybe we could work up to walking there and picking up a takeaway order?"

"We?" I say curiously.

"Well, yeah," he answers. "I mean if that's OK with you. Or we can do something different. Whatever you're comfortable with, but those burgers are pretty good."

I try to smile, but don't quite pull it off.

"Oh no!" Phil says, frowning. "Was it something I said? It usually is."

"No, not at all," I say, linking our fingers together. "I think you're amazing for helping me, but at the same time I feel sort of embarrassed that I need the help at all."

I barely get the words out before his lips are on mine. "Don't say that. You are perfect just how you are and have no reason to be embarrassed. You're a fantastic artist, funny, smart, and probably the hottest guy I've ever seen. Seriously, I can't believe you even talked to me when I came up to you in the coffee shop."

Not used to compliments, I try to hide my grin and the blush heating up my cheeks so I turn back to my food and start eating again. Smiling, he nudges me with his elbow and clicks Buffy back on as he finishes his dinner. Happy and full, the lack of sleep for the past two days start to catch up with me and I'm struggling to keep my eyes open.

"Sleepy?" he asks.

"Yeah, a little bit," I answer. "but I'm all right," I quickly add, not wanting him to leave.

"You can kick me out any time you want. I don't want to overstay my welcome."

"That would be impossible."

He looks at me for a minute, before he puts his hand on my upper arm and shoves me over so I'm lying on my side on the couch. Surprised, I laugh and struggle to sit back up, but he stops me.'

"Just stay there. Don't move," he says with a grin as he starts cleaning up all the takeaway containers and plates.

"Let me help."

"Nope. Lay down."

I'm not going to lie, it feels fantastic to be taken care of for once. It's been such a long time since I've had any sort of emotional or physical connection with anyone, I've forgotten what I've been missing. I can feel all of the anxiety draining out of my body, but suddenly, the living room light goes off, just leaving the light from the tv and hallway. The next thing I know, he's back and sitting on the far end of the couch.

"Scoot up a little bit," he directs.

After I move forward a bit, he grabs a throw pillow and wedges himself between my back and the back of the couch, tucking the pillow under his head. Being spooned by Phil is officially the best thing that's ever happened to me.

"Is this ok?" he asks nervously. "Are you comfortable?"

"It's perfect," I practically moan as he snuggles in with his chest pressed up against my back and arm wrapped around me. My eyes nearly roll back in my head when I feel his breath by my ear and I'm definitely not prepared when all of a sudden his lips are laying small kisses up my neck. When he reaches just below my jaw, I actually do moan loudly this time. Mortified, I put my hand over my mouth.

"I'm going to have to remember where that spot is," he murmurs in my ear before settling back down with his head on the pillow again. "I could really get used to this," he whispers, pulling me even closer.

"Me too," I answer softly as I start to drift off in his arms.