I usher Tris into my apartment. She is visibly warmer now. Her skin is peach again. That's a good sign. I notice her pinching her cheeks from the corner of my eye. It takes me a second to realize that her face is completely swollen. I didn't know she was capable of crying.
"Take your shoes off here. You'll wreck the carpet," I say, as a way of distracting her. She rolls her eyes, making me smirk.
"Glad your anger-management lessons are helping," she murmurs, following my orders. The carpet in my apartment is black and weirdly gets dirty easily. From the looks of her footwear, she would scatter the dried bits of mud everywhere within seconds. I pick up her shoes, placing them next to the front door.
Tris stands in the middle of my corridor, looking over the girly walls. Does she like them? The back of her head is constantly moving, suggesting to me that her eyes are jumping in every direction. I want to ask her what she is thinking, but I don't think I will get an answer from her any time soon.
I feel the need to wrap my arms around her. I want her to be close to me. However, something stops me. I can't help but think that if I even try to touch her, she will jump away.
I suck some air into my lungs before flamboyantly pressing my hands against her shoulders. As expected, she jumps up and turns to stare at me.
"Take it off," I say smirking. Shit. That sounded creepy. I glance down at her shirt, "Then take a shower."
Surprisingly, she grips her shirt and peels the soaking material off her body, revealing a black tank top underneath. It is also wet. My disobedient eyes travel to her cleavage and I think I see her erect nipples. I turn my head to avoid the inevitable 'rush of blood'.
I kick off my shoes and place them next to Tris' before hurrying into mine and Fiona's… well, my bedroom. She has clothes here. I open the closet doors and dig my hands into the piles of shirts. Hoping for the best outcome, I pull out two fabrics: pink sweatpants and a shirt. That'll do. Glancing at the pile of towels, I pick out my two best ones before walking back.
Tris eyes me suspiciously when I hand her the fabrics. Her eyes are bright blue like the color of the ocean. I look into them, searching for something. I don't know what. I mustn't stare. She looks back at me intently. Her head moves but her eyes don't. Before I am aware of it myself, my eyes are glued to hers.
"Ex-girlfriend," I mutter, breaking from my trance," I notice her smiling at me as she walks past, "Straight down and to the right." I call after her.
After chopping up some peppers and tossing some bacon onto the frying pan, the only thing left to do is stir the meal together. I guide the wooden spatula to flip some bacon onto the other side. Sooner than I expected, the mouth-watering smell fills the kitchen. I swallow hungrily, desperate to eat. I've eaten at the restaurant but my metabolism proved to be amazing. I burn the calories before they get to my stomach.
I listen out to the sound of the shower. I'm glad that the sizzling of the bacon doesn't overpower it because I am able to hear Tris stepping out of the shower. She needs my help desperately even though she doesn't admit it. I am able to give it to her. I just hope that she doesn't start pushing me away, because after that I will never get her back.
My mind generates an image inside of my head. Her. She is in my shower. And she is naked.
I groan slightly to clear my mind. I cannot think of that. Sometimes I question if I am more interested in her or what's beneath her clothes. How could I? She has no sign of hitting puberty. I smirk.
Her feather-light footsteps cause me to glance over my shoulder. I watch as she lowers her eyes until her head is completely drooped.
"Lookin' good," I tease, smirking to myself. I was right before. Fiona's clothes are way too big in the cleavage area. The advantage is that I catch brief glimpses of the side of her boobs.
"You're not a vegetarian, are you?" I ask, flipping some bacon. She shakes her head slowly and takes her seat near the glass table. I can see her swollen eyes. The bags seem to be growing by the minute. Should I feel guilty because I am glad this happened to her? That is when it begins. The sudden urge to Not. Stop. Talking.
"It gets lonely here. That's the reason for the super neat surroundings. I hope you don't mind." I flip the stir-fry again, ignoring the scorching drops of oil landing on my wrist.
"Why would I mind?"
I shrug nonchalantly. I don't think I am making any sense.
After switching off the gas, I serve the meal on two glass plates and place one in front of her, glancing away when water starts coating her eyeballs. I take my own seat and begin to eat. It's pretty good. I've always loved bacon.
"Was the water hot enough?" Well done. Why would I even ask that? She will take it the wrong way. I mentally kick myself and stare down at my plate, feeling the tension rise between us.
"Yes," she answers, pecking at her bacon. She is in no state to socialize. Am I being stupid for thinking otherwise? I start making a list in my head of all the things that could be the reason for her being so quiet: she has just been kicked out of her apartment; her boyfriend is a screw-up; most of her night consisted of being drenched by freezing water; she is probably starving (although looking at the way she eats suggests otherwise). God knows how many things have gone wrong for her that I am unaware of. I sigh deeply and clench my fist under the table. I am a jackass.
"The boiler plays up sometimes. Are you warmer now?" I glance at her, seeing how she straightens her back and nods. At least she is making an effort.
We eat in silence after I decide to keep my mouth shut. I gobble down what is left on my plate and leave the room. When I pass the door frame, I enter a brand new atmosphere. I was never good at silence. It's not too late to start caring. Not that I never did, but the horrible thoughts crossing my mind have to stop. I cannot use her. I cannot.
I grab a spare blanket from inside the cupboard in my living room. This should do. After that kind of adventure, she needs as much warmth as she can get. I think I'll let her sleep in my bed. That won't seem too suggestive, will it?
When I get back, she watches me with her blue eyes, tensing up when I raise the blanket and drape it over her shoulders. She thanks me. I sigh.
"You can take the bed," I say, "I'll sleep on the couch."
SHSHSHSHSHSH
The couch seems uncomfortable tonight. I can't go to sleep partly because of the situation I got into and partly because of the solid leather which serves no comfort. I spent many nights here when Fiona shared the apartment with me. We got into a lot of fights and apparently I was the one who always had to clear away. It wasn't fair. If I would have let Tris sleep here, it might have been a slight problem, and from what I have seen, she does not need any more of those.
My hand gets numb from the weight of my head. How long is this night going to last?
Suddenly I hear a horrifying moan coming from the bedroom. It sounds like somebody is dying. My heart leaps into my mouth when I realize that it is a sob. And she was doing so well…
I fling the blanket away from my legs and stand up, jogging towards the pained sound. I can't see a thing in the dark but I have become so accustomed to the apartment setting that I could find my way blind.
When I reach the room, I see a tiny ball under the bed sheets. The sound of crying has stopped, but the shaking of the bed didn't. Without hesitation, I crawl into the bed, occupying one side of it. "Tris…"
I furrow my eyebrows to see her in the dark. She has her face covered with both of her hands. Even now she doesn't want to let me know how weak she is. I could always try tugging her hands away, but I am going for respect here. Not annoyance. Instead, I start running my fingers up and down her wrists, holding my breath.
She starts sobbing again and I sigh, watching her head collapse into the pillow next to me. Her crying is now muffled, but that bring me no ease.
Not knowing how to handle the situation, I wrap my arms around her body. A crying female. I have never wanted to make one of those feel better. Her face presses against my shirt, soaking the material within seconds. Oh, great.
"Shh," I breathe into her ear. Even that area is wet. For such a small human, she has a shitload of water.
I listen to her wails for at least thirty minutes, until finally they fade out. One of my hands squeezes her hip, awaiting the inevitable twitch. But it never comes. She has fallen asleep.
By now, my eyes have adjusted to the darkness of the room. I can see the side of her face from this angle. The drying tears make her skin sparkle. Slowly and carefully I shift so that she rolls away into her own space. I keep an arm around her back though. I wonder if she will remember what happened when she wakes up. I bet she didn't pay that much attention to the way I was holding her. I'm hoping that there is plenty more time for that later on.
I start recalling the events of today. Fiona has left and Tris took her place. That took an unexpected turn. I can't believe the difference a day makes. This is probably the biggest chance I am ever going to get. I could either ruin Tris' life or make it better. The power is in my hands.
The lust I feel for her is insane. I have never been so turned on in my life, not even with Fiona. Despite the fact that Tris has an underdeveloped body, my erection starts poking against the fabric of my boxers. Thank God she is asleep.
I glance down at her again and see that the low cut shirt is showing too much of her chest. My first reaction would be to make it more visible, but I hold back and drape the blanket over her chest. That was a brave move. After all, I am aiming on strengthening our relationship and being a creep would not solace anything.
I think back to the night when Four asked me to protect her. Asshole. Why do I always get left with the most responsibilities? I don't mind of course, but I think Tris chose her own fate when she walked away from me, refusing to seek any help. I would have stayed. I was happy to stay with her. But she walked away from me.
A small moan snaps me back to reality. I eye the stirring girl under my arm and take this opportunity to shift my throbbing wrist from under her head. She starts moaning louder which inevitably turns me on. What the hell is she dreaming about? I gather that she is having a nightmare when she starts screaming.
"Tris," I say, putting a hand on her chest. Her heartbeat is insanely strong.
She mumbles something but doesn't wake. I take that as a sign to start shaking her from the nightmare.
Suddenly, her eyes snap open with a gasp. I press my hand onto her chest, expecting her to look at me and smile. She should feel like she is safe here. I have done nothing except be good to her. She shrieks. The sound horrifies me so much that for a moment I am brought back to the war era, when every moving object was a target.
"Tris, it's okay," I whisper breathlessly. She looks at me with her wide, teary eyes. The fire seems to be slowly fading inside them.
I manage to lay her back down but she turns away from me, so I wrap my arms around her from the back. Her breathing turns normal soon enough. "Go back to sleep," I say gently, watching the shadows of her eyelashes flutter among the pillow case.
"I can't," she whimpers back.
"Okay," I sit back against the headboard and pull her into my lap. To my surprise, she complies. Score. "You want to talk?"
I run a hand through her hair, skimming her scalp with my fingertips. She shivers against my chest as her head shakes.
"Hungry?" I guess, sighing in frustration when she shakes again. This girl is going to tip me over the edge. I wish she just accepted my help. "Let's just stay like this then." I am almost scared after saying that. I keep expecting her to push me away and shake her head again. She is capable of that. I just don't know at what times.
I find myself tracing patterns on her back after lifting the hem of her new shirt. I want to feel so much more. But for now, back is all I get.
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