"Chris? Chris wake up," I hear in my ear, and I immediately open my eyes.
"Mom? You're waking me up?" I ask eagerly, actually excited at the prospect.
My mom never does anything like that. This means she's taking an interest in me, caring about me being on time, this means I matter to her.
But she isn't there. Confused, I sit up slowly, looking around like an animal that isn't quite sure if it's surroundings.
Oh. I'm not in my room- I'm in Jason's. The white walls stare back at me for a moment before I turn my head and gasp.
"You scared me," I mutter, locking eyes with Jason and unable to look away. He smiles, but it's sad.
"I seem to do that a lot. I'm sorry," he says softly.
"It's not your fault," I say, swallowing hard. He thinks it's his fault when he's been the only one who cared. "Definitely not your fault."
His smile fades and he looks at me with pity. I look away for a moment, angrily. People always look at me like that, once they know. But their pity doesn't change anything. It doesn't help me now and it can't change the past- it's useless.
"Don't look at me like that," I snap. It comes out harsher than I meant it to and I can almost feel Jason's surprise at my outburst.
"Like what?" He asks, and I look back at him. The pity is gone, replaced with a look of surprise.
"Like you pity me. I don't need it," I say.
What I wasn't expecting is the way he smiles at me gently and then leans in to whisper in my ear.
"Move over."
I stare at him in shock for a moment and then start blinking rapidly. Does he want to get in the bed? Why? Should I move?
'Its his bed, stupid, move over,' says the Voice, and I sigh and then slide across the sheets, all the way to the other side of the bed, feeling my pulse in my throat.
"Chris? It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you darling," Jason's voice says, and I wince. Shit. He seems so...close.
"Jason don't... don't touch me, okay? I can't..." I trail off, horrified as my brain starts to overthink everything. I'm in his bed. Away from home. Nobody else is here, nobody can hear me if I yell. He's lying down close to me, and though I'm turned the other way, I know that he'll be facing me.
I'm scared again.
"You're shaking," Jason points out, and I flinch as his breath touches the back of my neck.
"I'm... Jason, I'm scared- I can't, I can't handle it, I'm not strong enough, please, Jason, I'm so scared," my voice comes out in pants, choppy and desperate. I don't know why I'm telling him this, like he can somehow do something about it.
Like I trust him to make it better.
"I know, baby, I know. It's okay- I'm here," he murmurs, and I turn to face him. His face is only inches away, and my breath hitches. I've never been in this position before- he never kissed me; kissing was personal, affectionate. Neither of those things were ever involved.
Our entire bodies are separated by about a foot, down to our feet resting near each other. I stare at him for just a moment, his eyes meeting mine. And then the hunger is back.
It gnaws angrily at me, latched onto each and every bone in my body, making me squeeze my eyes shut and try to control it. But it won't let go- it's too firmly wrapped around me. My head, my heart, my soul. I can't control it, can't make it stop.
"Jason," I whisper, tilting my head back. I can't see what his reaction is to my whispered plea, my strange reactions to being so close to him. The hunger burns in me, it hurts it's so strong. It hurts so much, so beautifully.
"What do you want me to do, Chris?" He asks, and I can hear the confusion in his voice. He doesn't understand why my face is contorted in pain, why I'm whispering his name, begging in that one word.
"Please, Jason," I whisper, unable to make out any more than that.
"I...okay, okay Chris I'm moving," I feel him start to shift to climb out of the bed, and shocking myself, shocking Jason, I reach out and grab his hand hard, gripping it tightly in my fingers.
"No. Stay," I beg, unable to look up at his face, instead staring at the spot where our hands are connected, feeling his skin under mine.
Finally I tear my gaze from our hands and glance at his eyes. They're so light, soft on mine as I hold us together by our hands.
"Okay," he breathes out, and his hand twists in mine, making me gasp as he grabs onto my hand as well. So we're gripping each other, holding onto each other, both of us staring at the other, his gentle eyes meeting my wide ones.
He lies down next to me slowly, and this time I don't panic. Our hands lie on the mattress between us, the only part touching. My eyes flicker down to glance at them again and it's like I'm looking at them through a tv screen. That can't really be my hand, white-knuckled as it clings so tightly to Jason's tanned one. But it is.
"Hey," Jason murmurs, and I look back up at him, snapping out of my trance. He looks like he's a bit nervous to ask me whatever he's thinking,"Are you scared of me?"
I think about his question. Am I scared of Jason? I'm scared of everybody. The way I feel around him, the hunger that assaults me when he's close to me, it terrifies me. Electrifies me. I love it, love his presence and the way his hand feels under mine. I love the way he makes me feel good, the way I can lie down in a bed with him and know that he isn't going to do anything I don't want him to. I love that he cares about me and the way his eyes feel like safety in a world that I'm petrified of, a world that I know now I couldn't face without him.
Am I scared of Jason? My first reaction is to say yes. Of course I am. I'm scared of him because he's bigger than me and stronger than me, and I know that if he wanted to, I could be in the same exact position as I was last year.
Am I scared of Jason? Of course not. He's my safety, my protection. He tells me that he'll never hurt me and I know he isn't lying.
I don't know, I guess. All I know is that even if I am scared, even if my heart races and I immediately want to shy away and go back inside my shell, I also want to hold his hand and feel his skin on mine. I crave him, can't get enough of him.
"I don't know," I whisper honestly. He starts to say something and I cut him off. "And I don't think that you can possibly imagine how much it takes for me to say that. I can't be around anybody, especially not men. They'll hurt me, touch me, they terrify me. People who are bigger than me, who could overpower me and force me to... to do things I don't want to do, I can't handle them. I can't handle that idea. You, physically, frighten me to no end. Looking at you and knowing I wouldn't even have a chance.. my heart races, my palms start sweating, I panic and I can't stop being scared.
But then, under all the physical stuff, there's you. And that's what keeps me here, makes me relax and grab your hand and let you t-touch me. Your eyes that are my hideout from the world, that make me feel safe and protected and warm in the ice that usually surrounds me. The way you don't push me, listen to me and stop when I ask you to. That you don't leave me alone when I start crying, and I know that's a lot. Nobody has ever been like that with me before. My own mother can't stand to look at me. But you stay with me, let me try to get past it. You help me. And I can't be scared of that- I can just cling to it and hope that it never leaves. I can just cling to you, and you let me."
My hand tightens over his and I close my eyes tightly, feeling my tears slide down to my lips, tasting the salt on them. He doesn't say anything, but he reaches out and wraps a hand around my back, and I freeze.
The fear that pounds through me sends me into a shaking fit immediately, but he doesn't react, only pulls me closer to him, until my chest touches his and his hand disconnects from mine to rest on my neck where it was yesterday.
"Shh," he whispers in my ear, and although I don't stop shaking, can't stop the tears, I don't pull away. Stunning myself, I push my face into Jason's warm neck, the feeling of utter and total safety washing over me until the shaking stops and my breathing evens out.
"That's it baby," he breathes, and I close my eyes softly, letting my lashes brush against his skin. I can feel it every time he takes a breath, every inhale and exhale. His chest pushes against mine and I can feel his heartbeat rocketing under my touch too. Inhaling his scent in deeply, I feel his fingers start to stroke my neck like they did yesterday and I realize idly that I spent the night.
I smile against him and he's so warm, my sunshine in the night I'm trapped in.