– Friday, June 1st, 2018 –
I think Finnley and I both slept from the moment we came home until Friday morning. Mom did wake me up once to ask if we wanted to eat something, but I only remember shaking my head, turning around and cuddling close to Finnley again. In the morning, he was rummaging through the closet to find clothes to wear, still in the shirt and boxer short he slept in.
I roll over to my side, watching him while he grabs clothes and turns around to send a look towards me, straightening out as soon as he notices I'm awake.
"Oh, hey." He hugs the clothes he picked to his stomach, suddenly looking a bit awkward.
"What's wrong?"
"Uh... nothing..."
"Finn..." I allow my head to sink into the pillow with a groan. "You promised to be honest. You're acting awkward."
"Right... I just..." As I look up again, he's blushing a bit. "Didn't... I don't feel comfortable changing... in front of you." He whispers the last words, causing my eyebrows to fly up. I stare at him, realising he indeed hasn't undressed in front of me even once. I've only ever seen him while wearing clothes, or in the shirt he sleeps in. But never did he change in front of me, while I did it in front of him anyway.
"Why not?"
"..." he swallows hard, and I see one of his hands slide to his ride side subconsciously.
"The scar?"
He swallows hard, but nods nonetheless, casting his eyes down towards the floor. "It's ugly and I.. could you just... turn around?"
"What?" I snort, roll out of bed and walk up towards him to pull him in my arms. "I don't care, Finn. You're hot anyway. One scar isn't going to ruin it."
"It really is..." He mumbles, trembling in my hold. "Can you just, please, not look?"
"I wanna see it." I whisper with a chuckle. "And let's think about it, if I see it once, you won't have to feel awkward any longer."
"No, Cris..." He pushes me away while giving off a vibe that he's not going to give in right now.
"Than how are we going to do it when we have sex?" I frown, crossing my arms. "You know I'll see it one day."
"I... I..." he shakes his head, looking anywhere but towards me. "Just, I'm not comfortable..."
I bite my lip shortly, before I sigh in defeat, my shoulders slumping a bit. "Okay, if you don't want me to see, I won't look." I shrug, grab the sweatpants that was hanging on my desk chair and leave the bedroom as soon as I pulled it on.
I feel a bit annoyed because he's pushing me away – yet again. But I have to remind myself about the state I found him in yesterday. I have to keep remembering Finnley is a wreck himself and while he's respecting things for me, I should do the same for him.
No matter how annoying it is to me that my own boyfriend won't even let me see his body when he's redressing.
I head downstairs and to the kitchen, grabbing milk, cereals, a bowl and a spoon, taking it all to the living room to eat breakfast in front of the TV, sulking a bit because Finnley pushed me away.
Once he comes down, he's acting even worse than he did in the bedroom, keeping his head hung low in sort of shame. He fiddles with the hem of his hoodie while he sits down on the edge of the couch, still keeping his head down, a sad frown on his face.
"Finn?" I hesitantly ask. "What's wrong?"
"I'm sorry..."
"What for?"
"They said I shouldn't do anything that I don't feel comfortable with... but if you want to see it, you can see it."
I frown, my spoon still halfway in the air, mid-bite, staring at him. "I'm not going to push you when you're uncomfortable."
"But you're angry... I'm sorry. I don't want to make you angry..."
I'm a bit taken aback by him, while he's acting... submissive? I drop the spoon in the bowl, putting it on the coffee table before scooting closer to Finn, pulling him in my arms. "Finny, I'm not angry. I'm just a bit upset because everything is one big mess and I just want to prove to you that I don't care. That I love you anyway. But I don't know how."
"I believe you do..." He whispers, now fiddling with the string of my hood instead of his own hoodie, at least leaning into my hold.
"Then you should know I'm not angry." I chuckle a bit, pushing his chin up to peck a kiss on his frowning lips.
"But I didn't do what you wanted, so why're you not angry?" He frowns and genuinely seems lost, confusing me too.
"Because I respect your decision, Finn. Because I respect you."
"Oh." His eyebrows slightly raise, while he seems to overthink my answer.
"Finn? Do you feel like I don't respect you?"
"I... well..." he seems unsure on how to answer it, and I cup his cheek to prevent him from turning his head away again.
"Do you think you don't deserve to be respected?"
"Do I?" He hesitantly asks in a whisper, not even sad, just confused.
"Did Sydney and the sick bastard he sold you to, make you believe you're not worth respect?"
He bites his lip until it turns white and I'm worried it might start to bleed soon. "There's not that much to respect, is there?" He eventually states, not upset, not sad, not confused. He actually believes it.
"Finn, there's so much about you that I respect. The way you're helping me while you're dealing with so much yourself. How smart you are, and how you stand for the things you believe. How you're adamant about raising a kid you didn't want in the first place. How you're able to still love your parents while they obviously did things that should make you hate them." I sum up a bunch of things. "I respect how strong of a person you are, and no matter what anyone told you before, you deserve to be respected, okay?"
He bites his lip, nods, but doesn't really convince me with the fact he believes me. And I think that's when I realise how damaged Finnley exactly is.
I might not know what happened for two years, all I know is that Finnley isn't nearly the same person as I remember him to be.
"I'll help you, okay?" I whisper, pulling him closer again. "I'll help you to believe you are worth the world, deserve respect, love, support."
"But you have your own troubles, Cris."
"Let me help you, while you help me." I smile, leaning in for a kiss. As he doesn't answer it, I pull back again, pushing down the feeling of being rejected, but also realising at least he's not kissing me because I want to; he's not kissing me because he doesn't want to right now. And that's something after the conversation we just had. "Sit down, I'll grab you cereals, and you can decide what you want to do today."
"I'd like that, thanks, Cris."
* * * * *
"I've been thinking." Finnley came down the stairs after another nap, and I heard him calling with someone before he fell asleep, over the phone. Since I wanted to respect his privacy, I went back downstairs to not eavesdrop in on the conversation, but I did hear him call the other guy 'Arav' and I wonder who he is.
He seems to feel a lot better after his nap, smiling a bit, though it's still insecure.
Which might be because of the thing he wants to discus.
"What've you been thinking about?"
"The memory of what happened in November."
"What about it?"
"You have nightmares about it."
"I nearly drowned, of that I am aware, yes. And yes again, I have nightmares." Believe me, Finnley knows I have them, since he has to wake me up at least once nearly every night. "Why?"
"What if it comes back when I take you to the place where it happened?"
"Where I nearly drowned?"
"Yes."
"Do you think anyone would agree to that?" I laugh out a little at the thought. "My parents didn't even want me to meet Emma and she didn't do anything to harm me. Or did she?"
Finnley shakes his head. "Not you, just me."
"Not justyou." I groan, letting myself fall sideways until my head is in his lap. "You, so, indirectly me too, because she took the love of my life away."
That makes him smile a warm smile, staring down to me while one hand is playing with my hair.
"What did I do to deserve such a sweet boyfriend?" He whispers, leaning forwards, wanting to peck my lips, not nearly reaching them as he pulls a face of discomfort. So, I lean up to meet him in the middle, before I turn my head and peck a kiss on his stomach – through his hoodie.
"Better turn that question around. What have I done to deserve such a smart, caring and sweet boyfriend?"
"I'm not..." He stops his words, and then smiles. "Okay, maybe I am smart and caring."
"And sweet."
"Only for you."
"Good enough."
He chuckles and sighs in content. "Anyway, your parents don't have to know about us trying to get your memory back."
"I don't want to lie to them about where I am."
"We won't." He intertwines his fingers with mine, squeezing a bit. "It happened at my aunt Cady's house and she's been repeatedly asking me to come over for dinner when I'm ready to go back there."
"So, you want to tell my parents we're having dinner with your aunt."
"Exactly."
"And then?"
"We'll sleep there too, so we will have time. I'd rather explain the rest once we're there."
"Why not now?" I ask, right before I hear the front door opens and he sends me a look.
"Hi boys!" Mom smiles warmly towards us, caring her laptop bag on one shoulder, and holding a pile of papers in the other. "Good to see you both awake. I wanted to talk to you guys."
"About?" I frown, still laying with my head in Finnley's lap, who is still playing with my hair and I savour the gentle gesture.
"The baby." Mom sends me a knowing look. "Finn told me you know about it."
"I do, yes." I look up to find Finnley nervously biting his lip, not looking at me and giving me the idea he's purposefully avoiding eye contact right now.
"And how do you feel about it? Is it true you're willing to help Finn?" She sits down on the other couch, placing the papers on the coffee table, shortly looking towards the empty bowls of cereal we left there after breakfast.
"Eh, yes." I look up to Finnley again with a small smile. "But I don't think we can do it by ourselves."
"Which is what your dad and I think too, but we'll help." She smiles. "Finn explained us everything about wanting to raise the baby and we stand by his decision."
"Why?"
"Because we see the two of you together and we have faith that this will work, and last." She smiles again, and when we make eye-contact, I feel like she knows something I don't even know. I'm just not sure what it could be. "Anyway, your dad and I have been talking and we're remodelling the guest room into a room for the baby. Ifyou two decide to live here for a while."
"I don't think I'm ready to move out soon." I admit with a shrug, looking back up to Finn. "I don't know about Finn."
"I don't really know where else I would go to. I'm to scared to live on my own... but I don't want to be a big burden."
"You aren't. You're Cris' boyfriend, you're welcome to live here for a while. We will remodel the room, and you two can decide what it will look like, but since it's our house, we still want to have a say in it."
"Obviously." I grin. "But you really are willing to help that much?"
"Hey, you're my son." She chuckles a bit. "And I'm long proud you're stepping up for Finn, and I'm really proud of Finn for taking his responsibilities, even though everyone would've understand if he would've decided otherwise."
"So, did Emma agree on signing away the rights?" Finnley asks, as I notice he started to tremble nervously again. I push myself up, only to pull him back in my arms; causing him to instantly relax a little.
"She agreed it is for the best, but she asked if it's possible for her to get updates every now and then."
"Which would mean I have to meet her with the baby?" Finnley shakes his head. "That would be a no."
"It would mean you let her know by writing letters, sending pictures, e-mail. That's it. I could do that for you, if you agree. But since she will sign away her rights, it's your choice."
"If she signs them off, I will agree to that." Finnley shrugs for a bit. "What about Cris?"
"I had a look into these sort of situations with a colleague, and we both think it's best, for the time being, if you'll be her father, and Cris isn't officially. If and when the two if you ever decide to get married, he can officially adopt her as his own."
"Why not right now?" I wonder aloud, nuzzling closer to Finnley as he did the same as soon as mom mentioned marriage.
"Because that would mean a lot of hassle since you have no partnership that is officially accepted." Mom's smile fades a bit. "Besides, if we would go through tons of by-roads and get that fixed, and you two would break up..."
"Not happening." I protest. "I won't allow it."
Finnley laughs, mom chuckles and I smirk in response to their reaction. "Anyway, what if we would be engaged? Would that make things easier?"
Finnley tenses underneath me, sending me a wide-eyed look, while mom's mouth is slightly agape, taken aback by my casual question.
"Cris..." Finnley whispers.
"I'm not joking. Would it be easier?"
"I guess it would give you some more rights..." Mom frowns. "But it doesn't change the fact Finnley acknowledging her as his daughter is enough to get full custody once Emma signs the papers. So don't rush into anything, okay?"
"I agree with your mom." Finnley sighs. "Let's not rush things. Raising a baby will be hard and it might break us ap-,"
"It won't. I won't allow it."
Finnley chuckles again, turning his head to kiss me sweetly. "Fool."
"Idiot."
"Kiddo."
"Pretty boy."
"..." Finnley's eyes widen, and he sits up straight in a flash, staring at me in shock.
"What...?"
"You called me pretty boy."
"Is that a bad thing?" I hesitantly ask. I'm not even sure why he called me kiddo, but I instantly felt the need to call him pretty boy. It came out more as an automatic answer.
"Liam, Jason and Alex called me that. You shouldn't remember that..."
"I don't. I just felt the answer was right..." I frown, cocking my head a bit. "Does that mean I do start to remember?"
"It's a beginning!" Finnley smiles wider than I've seen him smile for as long as I can remember. It's warming me to see a smile, solely because calling him pretty boy is a sign I'm progressing, and my progress to him, is important enough to break the sad air around him, turning his frown into the widest smile I've seen for so long.
It's the most beautiful one I've ever seen on him.