A/N: This chapter is rated M for MATURE for light references to previous rape/sexual abuse. It's not too graphic but if you have triggers towards rape/sexual abuse, please be warned. The chapters following this will lighten up, don't worry. I know I said that this story would be rated T for the most part, but as I'm thinking of the plot, I may have to change the rating to M. I'm still on the fence, but I'd appreciate your guys' input! Let me know if it's too graphic for its current rating and I will change it. Hope you're all enjoying it so far, though. Leave me a review if you can of what you think! I love hearing what you guys have to say! Enjoy :)
The Nishimura Vacation Home - Osaka, Japan
You glance over at Lara, finally asleep beside you. Your head is resting on her chest and your arms are laced around her midsection with a protective grip. You want to close your eyes and to will yourself to catch some much needed sleep as well, but you can't. Your body trembles as you reluctantly let go of Lara's body so you can turn over and look at the clock. You see the small numbers on the monitor and sigh in disappointment.
5:57am, it reads, mocking you as your body shivers.
You know you're not going to be getting asleep anytime soon, so you turn back to Lara. You spend a few minutes just studying her features. She still has several bruises and cuts on her chest, a few of them from when you had pounded your fists in them in an effort to wake her from the dead. Your eyes flicker to see that her right shoulder and arm are still bandaged lightly, but luckily aren't bleeding. You glance back down at her middle, covered by the duvet, and take a deep breath. Your heart beats faster as you remember how she had lashed out at you, sending you sprawling to the floor. You remember your conversation with her before she had fallen asleep. As much as you want to hide away from Lara's statement, you know there is some truth in what she says.
She could kill you.
But if she leaves you, she will kill you. You face death either way, it's just that the probability is lower for the former. You sit upright in the bed, resting your back against the cool frame behind you. Your fingers gently stroke Lara's hair as you run the calculations in your minds; you think about the odds of Lara killing you versus the odds of dying from being without her. You decide to set your chances with living with your sleep deprived girlfriend haunted by her memories, figuring it's better than dying alone from a broken heart and shattered mind. You suddenly realize how suicide bombers must feel; your life is tied to a ticking time bomb. The only exception is you don't know when Lara will explode and break the both of you. The thought is terrifying, but your statement holds some truth. As much as you want to fight it, your reality now seems so damned bleak. You look down at Lara, her eyes closed loosely and her mouth parted to allow tiny snores to pass to and fro. You're jealous for a moment, that she's able to sleep and you're not.
But then you ask yourself, isn't it better when I'm awake?
You're not exactly sure what keeps you up at night. It could be the fact that you don't want to go to sleep and wake up without her. You know that Lara sleepwalks sometimes. You once found her standing at the front door, just staring at it with a rigid, tense posture. You had thought someone had broken in and you damn near smashed her skull in with a baseball bat. Lara doesn't remember. Of course she wouldn't, she was asleep. She had been unresponsive to your calls as you shouted at her to wake up; she acted as though she was hypnotized. You had to nearly shove her body into the bed and then she startled awake, gripping your shoulders tightly and screaming at you to let her go.
It affects you, and you know that. As much as you somehow manage to carefully hide your suffering from Lara, you know that you cannot hide it from yourself. You want to lay some of your burdens on her, but each time you go to speak about it, you see Lara's face, her eyes sketched out with trauma, and you know that you cannot add to her pain. Besides, what could she do about your terrors and memories anyways? It's not like she can make your nightmares go away. If you can't do that for her, how could she come close to alleviating you of your own bleak despair?
Lara's stubbornness and inability to let you in is what frustrates you the most about her. You love her, and you know that nothing will ever stop you from that, but you just want to reach inside of her and scream at her to trust you. She doesn't want you to see the darkness brewing in her mind, but you know that you're a hypocrite because you feel just as lost and tormented. You don't show her your vulnerability because you know that she needs a steadying source right now. She needs a beacon, something to guide her through her adversity. You're like a candle in a forest, but you're something, at least. You hang your head as you try to close your eyes even just for a second.
You regret it immediately.
You see Lara's dead body on the boat and in the hospital. You feel her skin, icy and deceased touching yours and you gasp. You hear yourself screaming at her to wake up before kissing her so fiercely that she comes back to fucking life. You see Himiko and Mathias. You feel his hands caressing your body, easing you into that retched dress while she stabs at your heart and lungs with her spirit. You jerk your eyes open, letting out a quiet huff. Your chest heaves as you fight off the memories that came with being captured by that maniacal cult leader. You pull your hand away from Lara's head and wrap your arms around your shoulders instead. You draw your knees up to your chest and you bow your head, trying to make yourself as small as possible. You remember how rough his hands had been as they had touched you. You choke back a sob as you feel his fingers, and the fingers of so many others, touching you in places you can't bring yourself to touch anymore. You let a few tears drip from your eyes at the memory as you shiver with fear.
You and Lara haven't been intimate yet, what with her injuries and, completely unbeknownst to her, your fear of reliving past trauma. But as you look down at her, a symbolic reminder of everything that happened on Yamatai, you don't know if you can become intimate with her, at least for right now. You grit your teeth, ashamed that you can't even provide Lara with one of the many joys of having a partner. You always thought of yourself as a strong-headed person. You had basic self-defence training back in college (from Lara, admittedly) because you were so open about your sexuality. You always let the world see you in your bare bones, and you didn't care what others thought. But now, now you can't even look at yourself naked in a mirror without breaking down. You see evidence of the events you endured under captivity but you can't bare to look at them for more than a moment. You want to cut off your hair and change your body so drastically that you can't see the work of Mathias and his handymen.
Lara doesn't know.
You don't ever know if you'll tell her. Your core aches, but not in an arousing way. It aches as if it is mourning for the loss of its innocence and security. You know you're not a fool. You've had plenty of sex with plenty of people, but all those times it was consensual. It was a choice you made and you never had regrets. This time, it feels like a gorilla is sitting on your back. The word runs through your mind several times, spinning around your anxiety with the grace of a headless ballerina. You can't voice it though, because as soon as you say it out loud, it will become real.
And when it becomes real, you will break.
"Shit," you curse as you throw your head back against the headboard, out of your knees. It thuds lightly, but you feel no pain bare for the ache in your chest. You want to scream, to cry, to disappear into nothingness but you know that you have to be there for Lara. You have your moments where you want to be selfish, though. There are days when you watch Lara sit and stare at the window blankly, in which you want to tell her everything, to confess your darkest secrets. Maybe, it would be different if you were just friends. You can tell your best friend everything, but your girlfriend is a different story. Sometimes, for a fleeting moment, you wish you were best friends again, just so you could tell her.
But… you're still best friends, right?
You don't even know anymore. You aren't doubting your relationship with her, you're just doubting… her. You scoff, I really am the best girlfriend, because who doesn't find trust issues attractive? You glance back down at Lara, who has now shifted slightly on her left side to face you. You slowly reach down and wrap your hand around hers, squeezing lightly. Lara grasps your hand back reflexively before mumbling something incoherent. You suck in a breath, bracing for another nightmare. You don't let go of her hand and instead you shift down the bed, closer to her.
"Sam," she mumbles between quiet breaths, "Sam."
God, you think painfully, she sounds so hurt.
"I'm right here, sweetheart," you murmur into her ear, unsure if she can hear it or not. Lara mutters something incoherent again as she shifts, her grip on your hand growing tighter.
The tight clasp transports you back to the monastery. You see Nikolai's wicked grin as he had bound your hands to the pipes behind the prison wall. You remember him and his comrades laughing and speaking in Russian as they had approached you. You feel the scratch of his stubble against your jaw and you gasp. You cry out involuntarily, shaking your head as if that will ail you of the experience. You squeeze your legs together as you had done in that prison cell.
"Sam," you hear Lara's voice bring you back to the presence and you shudder. You somehow snap out of your flashback and turn to see her body curling further into your side. You wipe away your tears with the back of your free hand as you compose yourself for your girlfriend's sake. Stay strong, Sam, you tell yourself with a deep breath, Lara needs you more. You tentatively remove your hand from hers, to which she lets out a feeble whimper of protest. You hum again in her ear as you instead hook your arm carefully around her back, rolling her slightly onto you.
The weight of a body atop yours is an all too familiar feeling, and for a moment you consider pushing her off and just walking to the kitchen and pouring yourself a cup of tea to forget it all. You grit your teeth and push the memories down, knowing all to well from your assessments that they're going to come back with an unrelenting force. Stop beating yourself with your own game, idiot, you scold. You quieten your internal banter and focus your attention back on Lara, who has now curled her body around yours like a snake, pulling you closer towards her. She's somewhat taller (given you have to go on your toes to simply kiss her) and stockier built than you are, but as she lays in your arms you can't help but feel that she is so small. Your fingertips trace over some of her healed scars, your mind creating stories as to how she got them. Your touch causes Lara to shiver, gripping you tighter as she lets out another faint whimper.
"I'm here, Lara," you whisper absently, stroking her hair with your free hand.
Are you, though?
You stare back down at Lara's sleeping face and grimace. Each time you gaze at her scars, you wonder how she managed to stay strong during that month on that retched island. Your eyes shift over to her lips, quivering slightly as dreams send her reeling in her mind. You pull her body closer, trying to keep her as close to you as you can. You're the only family she has left, and you're not letting Lara lose that too, no matter how broken you are currently. You will fight for her, just as she had fought for you. It doesn't matter if it takes months or years, you won't ever stop fighting for her.
You let your eyes close again, but sleep doesn't come.
/
Lara doesn't ask you about last night.
This is her typical routine. She gets up before you do (or so she thinks, you already know you're always awake before she is), she sits at the chair in the corner of the room and stares out the bedroom window for awhile, and then she goes to the kitchen for tea. Her morning is quiet and often doesn't involve talking because she's trying to avoid the vulnerability she'd shown the previous night. You don't ever question it, however, because you know that Lara's always dealt with serious situations differently than you do. She's the quiet, processing type that builds up tension and stress overtime until she combusts. You're the aggressive, in-your-face girl that isn't afraid to cuss someone out if need be.
You do the same thing every morning, too. You just watch her get up, you use the bathroom (all the while avoiding your reflecting staring back at you with emptied eyes), then do the bed before you meet her in the kitchen. Mornings aren't even considered awkward in your opinion. You don't know what to call them. The both of you sit at the wooden table in your tank tops and briefs, actively ignoring the heavy silence that often befalls the room.
You begin to wonder if you'll ever wake up one morning and not regret it.
Your fingers are tracing the cracks in the mahogany with slender strokes, your mind preoccupied with thoughts of last night. You can't seem to get Lara's petrified face out of your mind. The way she had looked at you, or how she had screamed, or the things she told you, they all haunt you so terribly. You just wish you could suck them out like poison. Your other hand holds a steaming cup of tea. You lift it to your lips and take a tentative sip, enjoying how the scalding liquid burns your tongue, before you just let it rest in your hand. You stare at the table and Lara stares at the wall or the window - it alternates. This morning is different though, because this morning Lara decides to break that silence.
"Your hand is shaking," her voice says, shattering the quiet atmosphere with those four words. You blink, almost unsure of whether she said anything to you. Lara's staring at you with an unreadable expression, though. You swallow thickly and look to your hand holding the tea to see that it is, in fact, shaking.
"I'm cold," you lie through your teeth, praying that she buys it. Lara looks torn for a moment before she reaches for her tea. You let out an inaudible sigh of relief, but you also feel a pang of hurt claw at your heart. Lara sets her cup down lightly but the sound is so loud in the silence.
"When were you going to tell me?" Lara asks you gently, getting your attention again. You lick your lips before hesitantly flashing her a feigned smile.
"Tell you what, sweetheart?" You ask her, hoping that she wants to know about something other than what clouds your mind twenty-four seven. Part of you wants her to know, but another part wants you to hide away from it until you forget about it altogether. You almost chuckle at that idea. As if you're ever going to forget it, Sam, you scold condescendingly. Lara's still staring at you with her unreadable gaze, unfazed by your aversion.
"Sam," she says again in a slightly sterner voice. She doesn't waver her serious stare and instead she leans in. You pause for a moment, just gazing at her concerned eyes before you sigh with fatigue. You set your own cup down and swallow nervously, wringing your hands together like you always do when you're anxious. You remember what Lara had once said about your tell-tale sign of worry when you had been playing strip poker (you're still astonished that she agreed to it) at Nine Bells after hours with a few friends.
Sam, she'd said with a smirk as she sat, fully clothed. You're incredible at math, but terrible at bluffing.
Not that she was any better, you think. She was just sweeter, more innocent. Guys pitied her as she flaunted her beautiful accent and distracted them with her beauty. You always played poker as a team. You calculated your odds of winning with your cards and she'd do the bluffing. You always wondered how'd that manage to work out for so long. Lara can't lie for shit, but for money, that was a different story. She did pay for her university all by herself, after all. Maybe that's why she was so good, you wonder, losing yourself in the fond memory. It brings half of a broken smile to your cracked lips as you reminisce nostalgically. What you'd give to go back to those days.
Everything, you think, I'd give everything to be normal again.
"Sam," Lara says again, snapping you out of your mind. You shake your head a little before sitting up straight as if she were your scrutinizing English professor when you handed in a late assignment. You look at her and clear your throat.
"Sorry, what did you say?"
Lara sighs in exasperation, hanging her head slightly as she realizes that you weren't paying attention to what she had said. You feel guilty instantaneously as you bite your lip with an apologetic glance. Lara says nothing, her eyes growing cloudier with concern. She goes to say something, but suddenly a cough wracks through her frame. She recovers quickly and growls, wincing as her hand covers her side. You tense, prepared to leap to her aid, but she straightens her back quickly, trying to hide the pain from her eyes. Fuck you Mathias, you think bitterly, fuck you.
"I asked you," she says hoarsely as she clenches one of her fists to divert the direction of her pain, "I asked you, when were you going to tell me that you aren't sleeping?"
You almost let out a breath of relief.
You don't answer her question for a moment. You simply look at her and observe the way she stares at you. She's worried about you, but that's Lara. She's always looked out for you, whether it be from boys breaking your heart or nearly failing a class. She's always there for you. Your mind drifts to when she brought you Chinese food at two in the morning and helped you with a paper due the next day. She didn't scold you for putting it off, she simply offered her help without judgement. You remember how you'd fallen asleep just as she'd gone out to grab coffee, and how she had put a blanket around your shoulders and edited your paper for you when she returned. If it weren't for her, you probably never would have graduated from university.
"Sam," Lara says again, this time more worried than before. You snap your eyes up. God, you're so out of it you can't even concentrate on your concerned girlfriend, you hiss at yourself.
"I'm fine," you say, but Lara gives you this look that tells you that you better change your answer quickly or she will find other ways of getting it out. You sigh and hang your head.
"Since we were rescued," you say in a timid voice, "I've just… it's just scary to fall asleep because I go back there. You know what I mean." Lara doesn't reply right away as she processes your explanation. You tip your head up slightly, trying to gauge her reaction. She looks… hurt?
"Oh Sam," she breathes out, her eyes casting a warm, supportive gaze upon your own citrine orbs. You lose yourself in those hazel pools, unable to form a coherent sentence. Lara gets up stiffly, stifling a groan as she walks over to you with a poorly masked limp. You realize that she hasn't taken her painkillers yet. You don't say anything as she sits down next to you, placing her hands on the table. Her eyes stare deeply into your soul as you feel her fingers brush over yours.
"Is there anything I can do to help, love?" Lara asks so tenderly it breaks your heart. You look at her and see a flash of her innocence returned. It gives you relief but it also deepens the void in your healing process. Lara takes your hand in hers as she gives it a supportive squeeze.
"Sam," she says again, "you know I love you. I… I just don't want to see you hurt again." She avoids your gaze as she hangs her head. You stay silent for a few more moments before she nods her head back up slowly. You squeeze her hand back as she peers at you with saddened curiosity. She's only a year younger than you are, but she seems like a child right now.
"Lara," you choke out, but don't move your hand. Lara leans over slightly, her soft lips kissing your bare shoulder with the lightest of pecks. She winces as she hears your breath hitch from surprise. You're usually the more physically affectionate one, so this all comes to a bit of a shock. Not to mention that Lara has had little to no sexual experience that you know of, besides that one girl in college she'd kissed on the dance floor of some sleazy bar when she'd been plastered drunk. She woke up the next day completely embarrassed and ashamed, but when you think about the memory now, you realize that maybe she found it the slightest bit exhilarating.
You hear her chair scoot closer. Her hands leave the table and wrap themselves around your waist. She keeps her lips to your shoulder, continually kissing lightly. Her thumbs trace soft circles into the thin material of your camisole, and you swear you can feel her in more places than one. Your legs tingle and your throat vibrates as a quiet moan breaks from your mouth. You bite your lip and let out yet another strangled gasp as her kisses start moving up your neck. One of your hands reaches down to tightly grip her wrist out of reflex as she lightly sucks at your pulse point.
"Do you want me to stop?" Lara's voice is so low and growly, you nearly melt. You can only respond with a groan as you loosen your grip on her wrist, but still not letting go. Instead of moving it away, you rub your thumb over the fine hairs upon the back of her hand with soft strokes. Lara smiles into your skin, rewarding your silent acceptance with another warm kiss. You tilt your head back and stare at the ceiling with a blank gaze. The sensations Lara's giving you are confusing, even though you know that you should be enjoying this. You're not at all shy when it comes to sex.
But you're only partially enjoying it. The other part is dreading it.
"Lara," you whisper coarsely as you start losing sense of her and begin slipping back into your past. Instead of her gentle hands, you feel Nikolai's scratchy palms deftly slipping under your top to sensually caress your sensitive skin. The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you feel fear, not arousal, pulse through you. Lara, unable to see your face, thinks your reaction is a positive one and thus continues her ministrations. Her breathing is ragged and lusted against the sensitive skin of your neck, and you can't help but hear the soft grunting of Alexei this time as he had pinned you to the damp wall of that awful cave. One of her hands presses against your bare abdomen, slowly drifting downwards while her teeth nip lightly at your nape. You hear his voice growling in your ear menacingly, outlining the plans he has for you.
You remember each and every one of them.
"Lara, stop!" You shout suddenly, breaking away from her. You stand quickly, knocking over the chair by accident in the process. The sound startles your girlfriend as she pulls back, fear and shock stretched out over her face as she looks at you. Your hands are shaking again and you can't stop hearing them whispering, mocking, jeering you in the back of your mind. Lara goes to stand, but you take a step back defensively. Your girlfriend's left brow raises with alarm. She moves slower, just as you had done last night when she'd panicked. Your breathing is laboured and you feel your skin freeze.
"Sam, what's going on?" She asks you, her voice low and heavy with worry. You look at her gaze, so fiery with rage at the people who caused you to behave this way. You've never seen Lara this angry in your life and it scares you to think that maybe she did enjoy killing all those men back on Yamatai. When she sees how scared you are, her gaze softens and she lifts her arm to reach out to you tentatively. You swallow thickly and shake your head, unable to answer her without falling apart at the seams. Lara pulls her hand back like she'd been burned and stumbles to her feet, wincing again. You want to snap out of your trance but you're still there, tied to those poles, and they're touching you.
"Lara, please just… I'm okay, alright?" You say shakily, repressing it again. You put your hands up disarmingly as Lara peers at you questioningly. You can tell that she's incredibly worried about you, but she's got her own shit to deal with right now; you cannot afford to add yours to that pile. You sift through your tired brain for an excuse before deciding on one that she'll probably believe.
"I just remembered that I needed to call the nurse to do your stitching," you say in a quick tone, pointing to her torso, which admittedly had actually started to bleed. You cringe as you become slightly thankful that she provided some evidence for your lie. For fuck's sake, you think once you admit it to yourself, what kind of girlfriend uses their partner's injuries as an excuse? You fight the urge to shake your head at yourself and instead take to biting your lip. Lara is quiet for a few moments, but she soon relaxes her posture, grimacing as her hand goes back to her middle. You cringe with her, feeling guilt overcome you as you watch her sigh and nod slightly.
"Sorry," she mumbles dejectedly, leaning on the table a bit. You snap yourself out of your frozen state and walk over quickly, reaching for her hand. You're a bit hesitant at first to touch her, but Lara doesn't notice as her face scrunches up in pain. You let your trembling fingers run circles around her bandaged shoulder, a technique that has always calmed her down since she was a child.
"I'm sorry I startled you, sweetie," you tell her calmly as you peck her temple. You catch a whiff of her shampoo and allow yourself to lose yourself in the wonderful scent. Lara mumbles something incoherent as she turns her head towards yours to nuzzle your cheek with her nose. Her lips softly kiss the sensitive skin before your ear and you take a sharp breath at the contact.
"You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?" Lara asks, her voice quivering. She's scared for you and she has every right to feel that way. Well, maybe if you'd been honest from the beginning…, you ponder. No, you don't have the strength to deal with the repercussions of taking that path right now, especially since everything is all so fresh. Still, you consider telling her then and there, but before you can complete the ill-conceived action, Lara makes out a low hiss of agony. You remove yourself from her side so that you can step in front of her and look at the damage. She's clutching her side with a taught forearm, her brows creased in frustration. You part your mouth to say something, but she shakes her head, looking at you with a pleading gaze. She wants you to answer your question.
"Of course," you whisper half-heartedly, your hand slowly reaching up to cup her jaw. Lara bites her lip before she leans forward, her forehead pressing against your chest. You sigh and wrap your arms around her slender body. Because she's propped up against the table, she's basically your height so you can kiss the top of her head. You keep your nose in her hair, trying to calm yourself in her familiar scent. You feel Lara's hands twitching; she's unsure of what to do.
"You can hold me, Lara," you tell her in a gentle hum. Lara still hesitates, but she slowly overcomes the impasse by wearily lifting her arms. Her hands are soft as they wrap around your midsection. She locks her hands around the small of your back, drawing a sharp breath. Her lips press a tender kiss to your collarbones as she sighs again. You try to close your eyes, but visions of those retched and foul men quickly flow through the darkness again, forcing them back open. You tremble and Lara grips you closer, kissing your shoulder again.
"Are you afraid of me?" Lara's voice is so small, you almost don't hear it. You stiffen and pull away from her to see that her head is still bowed. You cock your head to the side in confusion.
"What are you talking about, Lara?" You ask her, bewildered that she'd say such a thing to you. Lara doesn't speak, but you can see that she's trying everything to hold herself together. Her shoulders shake as she swallows thickly before glancing up, her gaze meeting your neck.
"A-Are you afraid of me?" She asks, her eyes finally lifting to meet yours. Her gaze is so broken you can barely breathe. Her eyes are glazed over with tears as she lifts her hands and inspects them. She looks disgusted and terrified as her gaze shifts over her quivering palms. You want to reach out and hold them in your own, but you can't move. You're still stumped on her question.
"Why on Earth would I be afraid of you, Lara?" You ask her incredulously, shaking your head at her. Lara's breath hitches as she stares at you, her expression cold and withering. It's bone-chilling and causes your heart to stop pounding against the wall of your chest.
"Because I killed people, Sam," she whispers hoarsely, looking back to her hands angrily. "I did what those men did to our friends to those soldiers and I enjoyed it. I enjoyed it Sam! I'm so sick, oh God. Sam. I… I am a murderer. I killed them, Sam. I fucking killed them!"
That's the sentence that breaks you. You jerk your hands forward and grab her palms. You tether your fingers with hers and grip her hands tightly to affirm that you in no way feel like that. Lara could never be a murderer. She's Lara. She's the girl that traps spiders and releases them out the front door instead of sucking them up the vacuum or stamping on them with a booted heel. She's got one of the kindest and most loving souls you know of, not to mention she's incredibly altruistic. You know that she did what she had to on that island to survive, nothing more.
"I am, aren't I?" Lara chastises herself bitterly when you don't answer her. She ducks her head away from you, pulling her hands away. You watch as she curls her hands under her armpits, causing her muscles to bunch up and tighten. You ignore the tint in your cheeks at their sight and focus on your girlfriend's self-deprecation. You shake your head at her gently, sighing deeply.
"Lara," you say her name in a slow drawl, "you are not a murderer. If you were, would you think that I'd live with you? Do you think that I'd hold you throughout your nightmares? Do you think that I'd kiss you or touch you if I thought you were like them?" You ask the hard questions, but you get the point across. Lara stiffens at the sternness in your tone, but she sniffles and shakes her head slowly. You sigh again, reaching back for her face. You brush your thumb over her jaw.
"Lara, I love you, no matter what happened on that island," you whisper, pecking her forehead softly to remind her of that. Lara whimpers when you say, "I am alive because of you."
Lara breaks at your words, bursting into tears as she lets her head once again collapse against your chest. You feel your lungs concave as you feel her hiccuping breaths against your skin. You pull her body flush to yours, cooing soothingly in her ear as she continues to cry. You feel tears creep up at the corners of your own eyes, but you force them away. This isn't about you, this is about Lara. You feel Lara's hands once again wrap around your hips, hugging you tightly. You loop your own arms over Lara's neck, swathing her in warmth and security. You serve as the rock in her mind with fleeting thoughts. You are the balance that keeps her steady as she sways.
"I'm so sorry, Sam," Lara cries out, clutching a handful of your tank top in her bandaged palms. "I'm so sorry that I can't help you the way you help me. I'm sorry that I can't be more for you. I'm sorry that you carry my burdens when I can't carry yours. I'm so sorry, Sam. I'm sorry that I'm failing you as a friend and as your partner." You shut your eyes tightly when she seethes the words out. You hate the tone of her voice; it's one full of hatred and regret towards herself. Lara's always one to pin the blame on herself, and this situation is no different. You stroke her hair with your fingers as you repeatedly kiss her forehead with butterfly kisses.
"Sweetheart, stop," you say, though your voice trembles slightly, "you have nothing to apologize for, okay? You have nothing to apologize for. You have not failed me. We're not perfect, Lara. We may never be, but we will recover. It will take time, but it will happen." You hope that your response is enough, because you feel weak now. The past few restless weeks have taken their toll on you, and as much as you want to fight to keep Lara sane, you don't even know if you can hold your own. Luckily, Lara doesn't push the subject as she just submits in a quiet sigh.
"Sam," Lara breathes, her head still buried in your neck. Your name sounds wounded upon her lips. You fight back tears and stroke her hair again, taking a deep breath as you go.
"Lara," you whisper back, reaching down to draw her head up. Your eyes meet and you feel something in your heart snap with the expression she gives you. Lara's hands find their home around your waist, their grip lighter than before.
"We're destroying ourselves, Sam," she croaks, more tears streaming down her face as she gives you a pleading glance. Your breath hitches at the sentence but you don't allow yourself to crumble. You shake your head and grasp Lara's face tighter in your hand. You stroke your thumbs from her chin down her jawline in a soothing line. Lara gasps softly as you tilt your face so that your foreheads are touching. Your lips are so close to touching, you can feel her breath.
"I won't let us," you murmur gazing into her hazel depths with fiery passion. Lara's hands involuntarily squeeze your hips as she tilts her face up only slightly. You can feel her throat bob upon your inner arm as she swallows nervously.
"Sam, those are big words," she whispers, her voice raspy and light. You watch as her eyes peer deep into your mind, trying to alleviate the sickness that encompasses the very essence of your being.
You don't hesitate this time as you plunge into a deep kiss, showing her just how determined you are to make good on your promise. Lara moans into your mouth as she wraps her arms around your back again, pulling you closer. You cry out as her tongue battles with yours; you're both fighting to keep each other here. Your thumbs stroke over her gaunt cheekbones, pulling her from her slouched position against the table to standing. You feel her wince as Lara rises to her full height and leans her head down, desperate to not break the kiss. You go to stop it, but you can't as Lara moves one hand up the small of your back to place between your shoulder blades to support you. You know that the move is meant to prevent you from falling over, but you can't help but get swept up in the metaphorical notion behind it.
No matter if she falls apart, she'll still hold you together.
"You're so beautiful," Lara whispers gently, breaking the kiss to allow the both of you air. You gulp in a deep breath as you blush a deep shade of red. You redact your arms slowly so that you can flatten your palms against her chest plate. You are so close to her and for once, you feel safe.
"I love you, Lara," you mumble as you lean up for another kiss. Lara's eyes close as your lips meet softly. You hear a sweet moan burst from Lara's lips as she pushes against you slightly, walking you backwards into the wall of the kitchen. Your back slides against the cool plaster as you pull Lara's head closer to you. You kiss her as if you are starving and she is your first taste of food. Lara's head cocks to the side, allowing you better access of her mouth.
"I love you, Samantha." Your legs turn to Jello when she uses your full name. At her proclamation, she gently rocks her hips into yours, causing fireworks to shoot down to your core. She kisses you harder, her hands rubbing circles into your back supportively. Good God, when did Lara get this talented at making out, you ask yourself as her tongue dances feverishly with yours. You gasp breathlessly into her lips as she deepens the kiss with a passionate press of her lips against yours. The hand at your waist skirts up your side again, but you feel uncomfortable too soon.
No, you cry out in your mind as the memories begin to return, just fucking go away!
"Sam," Lara says, sensing your discomfort as you tense up under her touch. She pulls her mouth from yours, breathing hard. You close your eyes, pushing away those men so that you can concentrate on Lara's tender voice calling out to you. Her hand lowers back to your waist, holding you tightly to her body. You shake your head and duck your head into her neck cowardly. You close your eyes and let out a breath against her skin.
"I'm sorry, Lara," you tell her in a soft mumble. Your voice is defeated and timid, but Lara isn't deterred from your decision to stop. You press a kiss into her neck apologetically, but Lara hums into your ear to not apologize for stopping. You can hear that worry return to her voice, so you quickly think of something to lighten the situation. You're getting slow, Sammie. Come on, think quicker, you scold yourself as you struggle to find an explanation behind your reaction.
"What ever happened to take things slow, huh Lara?" You say with a forced chuckle, quickly remembering your conversation from the hospital. Your voice is shaky and nervous, and you feel your palms get clammy. Fortunately for you, Lara buys it as quickly as you sell it and she relaxes in your arms with a soft laugh.
"Sorry," she mumbles sheepishly. You let out a content sigh of relief as you ward off the bad feelings. You let yourself go into your lie, desperately trying to convincing yourself that it's the real reason why you stopped Lara from continuing on her path. You move your head to peck her lips softly to comfort the both of you.
"Don't," you say, feeling guilty that she dares apologize when she doesn't even know the blunt truth of it. Lara gazes at you with a gentle smile as she kisses the corner of your jaw lovingly.
Slowly, the both of you untangle from each other, saddened by the loss of warmth. Lara's postures is still slightly slouched, with one arm curled over her torso. You feel guilty again, but she flashes you a faint, toothy grin as she tells you, "I asked for it, Sam. You know that I'm not really good with limits." You reach forward and tuck a loose strand of her hair behind her ear as you send her a gentle smile.
"Neither literally nor mathematically, sweetie," you say half-heartedly. You were expecting a chuckle from your girlfriend (because she really does suck at limits), but Lara's eyes flash as she hears the distance in your voice. You quickly shake your head at her and smile again with reassurance. You help her to the kitchen table and set her down before reaching for the phone. You glance at the small blood stains now pattering across her new top and sigh.
"I think we should wait until you're all stitched up before we do anything like… uh, that," you say hoarsely, suddenly getting nervous again. Lara looks down to her torso and grimaces before she gazes back up at you with a knowing, lopsided grin. Her smile is genuine, and it makes your heart soar so high that you don't feel that constant, ebbing pain in the back of your chest.
"It would suck if we had to call an ambulance during our first time," Lara says, blushing a deep red. You can't help but chuckle at her as she hides her head shyly. You sit down across from her and reach out, brushing her cheek with your thumb as you lean forward to peck her nose.
"I want to make love you to, Lara," you tell her, and she practically turns into a tomato. You laugh again at her timidness as you place a supportive hand on her bare thigh and say, "but I'd rather do you in one piece, babe, not seven." Lara's eyes widen as she playfully smacks at your arm.
"Sam!" She squeals prudishly, curling into herself. You chuckle again, shaking your head at her as she struggles to keep her blush from spreading to her neck and chest with no success.
"It'll be worth the wait, baby," you say gently, leaning forward for a chaste kiss upon her lips. Lara gasps as your fingertips walk down the insides of her bare thighs to trace over one of the bandages wrapped around her knee. Your fleeting touches make her squirm and she involuntarily lets out a strangled whimper. You smile at her reaction and hum out of approval into her mouth as you kiss her fiercely once more.
"I'll make sure of it," you growl seductively, causing Lara to shiver. You give her a wink and she hides her face in her hands out of embarrassment as she blushes again. You peck her nose again, laughing.
"I love you, prude," you say warmly, feeling your heart burst with your love for her. Lara sighs, removing her head from her hands as she shoots you a sheepish smirk.
"I love you too, horndog," she retaliates with her college nickname for you, her accent making it sound just as funny as it always did. You almost do a double take, but Lara knows she's won this one. You shoot her a playful scowl as you look to your phone on the wooden table. Lara is too busy staring at you like a lovesick puppy to notice you grimace at it.
"But we've got to patch you up first," you say with a knowing tone as you pull away. Lara groans in disappointment as you reach for the phone again, dialling the nurses number. You can see your girlfriend pouting in your peripheral vision as she slumps into her chair. You're surprised she doesn't have her arms crossed or brows furrowed in frustration.
"I think the nurse will be pleased to see you," you tell her with a playful but sarcastic tone. Lara grumbles something incoherent, waving her hand in the air in discontent. You laugh at the gesture. She smiles when she sees you react with happiness and continues to make her pouting face, efficiently cheering you up. You gaze at her and only one question is filtering through your mind as you lose yourself in her eyes; how come it took you so damned long to realize she's the one for you? You have to remind yourself that you're oblivious at times, and as always, completely unpredictable.
Maybe, you think as you look at Lara with warm eyes, so is she.