Juliet
Falling, that scary word and all of its seven letters. It took me three months to realize I was falling in love with Garret. I had known him my whole life, but we didn't start dating until high school. Something changed that summer and we found ourselves drawn together, spending more and more time apart from our big group of friends and together just the two of us. It felt like a carefully plotted journey. He had held my hand three solid weeks after first telling me that he liked me, and then he kissed me an entire month later. Everything about our relationship was carefully planned out. With him, I fell slowly and with full clarity of what was happening.
Falling for Liam was sneaking up on me. I'd put up all my walls to protect my heart, and constantly reminded myself that he was not a boy that could make me happy. Only each time I gave myself a reason not to get lost in him, he came through and easily stomped the wall I'd created. He didn't even know he was doing it. And it was all happening so fast. I didn't know him—hadn't spent weeks slowly dipping my toes in the water like I had for Garret. With Liam, the lust and comfort I felt when he was near me seemed to keep my head in the clouds until he took a step back or away and I'd realize I was already knee deep in the water.
His hand was holding mine as my head rested where his arm met his chest. I loved the way it slowly rocked me on each inhale and exhale. His free hand moved up and smoothed my hair down, his fingers slowly tracing my ear. I let my eyes close, even though I knew my dreams could hurt me. It was so much easier to stay in the moment with Liam than to let my grieving heart and brain pull me back to times when my brother was still here. I was growing too tired to fight it.
I opened my eyes and watched his feet, crossed just at his ankles on the far end of the bed. He seemed like an island in the sea of my grief. If I clung to him hard enough, I wouldn't fall in. From his shores I could watch my loss rise and fall like waves before they quickly raced in and lapped at the sand beneath my feet. If you've ever been to the beach and stepped into the wet sand you know the feeling of the cold, salty water rushing over feet. You also know the powerful feeling of it being drawn back out to sea, pulling at your limbs with a force that is both surprising and ominous. It wants to sweep you out into its waves and for maybe just a second, you know that it could.
My knee bent and lifted until it draped over his firm thigh. I turned into him just slightly, opening my palm and anchoring it to his hard chest. As if he could read the thoughts in my head and the fear growing in my heart, he pulled me closer, shifting my weight onto him so that he held more of me than the bed beneath my tired body. His cheek moved to rest against the top of my head, one hand firmly holding me to him at my waist and the other releasing my own and sliding down to the bend in my knee. I could feel his muscles tighten where my weight pressed against him and he released a breath much like a girl would a sigh. We were a perfect fit.
After a few minutes, his hand on my waist began to move, slowly sliding up my side, across my ribs, and barely ghosting a path to my arm. He was close to the curve of my breast, but he never crossed the line. His hand would bring warmth and excitement as it moved over my thin top, but just as it drifted up, it softly retreated each time. His fingers on my knee moved up too, lightly brushing along my skin to my upper leg, his thumb tracing a line that made my thoughts scramble. My breath would catch as his warmth spread up the inside of my thigh and would release as it drifted back down.
I moved my face just slightly so it tucked into the warm, soft skin of his neck. His pulse moved at a rhythmic pace as I closed my eyes and pulled in a big breath of his scent. I felt myself slipping into sleep, feeling safer than I'd ever felt and comforted in the arms of my brother's friend. Maybe it was wrong, but at the time it felt nothing but right. "Goodnight, Liam," I whispered as I slid my hand up to the soft curve of his neck. I tipped my chin and pressed a chaste kiss to the spot below his jaw.
"Goodnight, sweetheart," he answered with a kiss to the top of my head. It only took another minute for me to drift off to sleep in his embrace.
I awoke with a jolt when he flinched in my arms. He called out my brother's name and a flurry of curses as his arms around me pulled so tight it forced the air from my lungs. His heart beat so furiously beneath his chest I could heart it pound against his ribs. His breathing was heavy and when I finally was able to pull myself free from his grip, I looked into his wide eyes. They were wild with disbelief and the confusion of interrupted sleep.
He practically panted as we stared at each other, the room silent except for our rushed breathing. Finally I saw the muscles around his eyes relax and the recognition of me in his stare. "Fuck. Did I hurt you?" he asked roughly. His hands moved to cup my face as he waited to hear my answer. I watched him struggle with demons just beyond this reality—the ones that plagued him in his sleep. This time they almost crossed into his consciousness. I knew he'd be devastated if they'd cause him to hurt me somehow.
I shook my head between his strong palms and he watched until he was satisfied I was telling the truth. "I'm ok," I whispered. "You just scared me." His left hand slipped down a little, stopping on my neck where his thumb pressed against my quickly beating pulse.
"I'm sorry." His eyes moved slowly, taking in every nuance of my facial expression before returning back to my stare. There was nothing more to say about it. I knew very well that no one left that desert the way they had arrived there. Liam's cross to bare was not a physical one. His price of service was paid with his peaceful dreams. In return he got nightmares that would tuck themselves away for nights when he was too tired to fight them. When he dropped his hands from my face as if defeated, I lifted mine to his cheeks.
"Don't ever be sorry for showing your wounds. To me, you're a hero for being brave every time you close your eyes." I moved slowly and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.
"Maybe it's best if I sleep in the chair." He shifted, pulling away from me slightly.
"We'll be uncomfortable there," I answered, even though I knew he wasn't talking about both of us. His lips twitched a little and he nodded his head. His eyes looked up to mine as if waiting for my next move. "You won't hurt me, Liam." I gave him a little shove so he'd lie back down and then turned away from him so I could be the little spoon to his big spoon. He seemed hesitant at first, but when I backed up so that my entire back pressed against his front, he wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me back against his hard chest. "Goodnight again, Liam."
His arm squeezed me a bit tighter, "Goodnight again, sweetheart."