Another short bit, the first half of Erik's confession.
"Can we talk about last night?" He asked finally.
My heart dropped further and my stomach twisted. "Okay," I whispered. I knew we had more to talk about, but I'd thought we'd at least worked through our issues from last night. I'd apologized, he'd apologized; he'd hugged me and asked me to sleep with him and not have sex with him and he'd held me all night. I'd really thought that if we were going to have more drama, it would be from our other issues. Apparently I was wrong. Crap.
I had to be glad that he was asking, though. This was different than his usual pattern of jumping to conclusions, getting mad, and lashing out at me. If I got a vote, I preferred the asking.
He was perched on the side of the bed next to me, his elbows on his knees, kind of hunched over. It was the same pose he'd been in last night when we'd finally started talking - instead of yelling or…well, my other attempt to make things better. Did he sit there like that on purpose, or was it just that there wasn't anywhere else in his bedroom to sit?
So he sat there, and I watched his whole body try to curl inward. He looked at his hands, and his voice was so low I could barely hear him. "Did I…do anything to… hurt you?"
His question completely threw me. I cried so hard last night that my whole body ached this morning, but I was pretty sure that wasn't what he was asking. He looked so miserable that I didn't even want to ask him what he meant. I just answered, "You hurt my feelings," and I shrugged and tried to leave it at that.
But Erik whispered, "Sorry," really huskily, like he was trying not to get emotional. My heart spasmed a little in response.
Even quieter, if that was even possible, he asked, "did I…make you do anything do didn't want to do?
I was almost relieved at this question. I was able to answer it without even thinking. "No. Nothing."
I still had no idea what was wrong, no idea how I could make it better, but at least I was on more solid ground here. He may have been angry and said horrible things to me last night, but everything I did was my choice. Even taking him…in my mouth…was my choice. As mortifying as it was to think about it, now... Hell, I'd even begged him.
"Okay," he breathed, and sounded relieved. He raised his head and his amazing, expressive blue eyes met mine. I saw relief, but also confusion and pain. "Z., I'm sorry for hurting your feelings," he said. He coughed out a short, humorless laugh and added, "I know it was a lot worse than that."
Erik looked down again, and rested his head in his hands. "I know…what I said…was horrible. It's no excuse, but I was just stunned. We were fighting, and then you…" he glanced up and gave me a weak smile. "Since Blake, I haven't even been able to touch you without you pulling away, then we're fighting and you…"
He shook his head, dropped it back down, and fisted his hair in his hands. "I couldn't get my brain to work, I couldn't understand why. And you were crying. You were…amazing…and then you were crying. I could only think…and I said…what I did." You don't have to blow me again, you already got me off.
"Then you cried harder and I realized that maybe you just didn't like it, and I…hoped…that was why you were crying. I hoped it wasn't the…other things…I thought. I know I made it worse by what…I said… But…either you didn't like it or it's what I…thought… because you were already crying before I…hurt your feelings.
He stayed hunched over, sitting next to me on the side of the bed, and looked…pained. I didn't know what to say. That was about the most awkward speech I'd heard out of any guy, and I couldn't even be quite sure what he was trying to tell me. I still felt awful. I should have stopped him, I should be the one saying I was sorry. I'd basically cheated on him twice; all he did was said mean things and hurt my feelings. Not exactly the same level of pain.
But I didn't stop him. It was wrong of me; I was being stupid and immature, but I needed him to say he was sorry. No matter how much I deserved it, I needed him to explain. How he could he be sweet and caring one second and cruel and hateful the next?
I could only think…then I said… and what was he not saying? What did he think that made him say what he did? How could I keep him from doing it again?
Erik sighed and shifted up onto the bed a little more, and turned to face me. I looked down and ran my fingers along the edge dark blue comforter, just to give my hands something to do. While I was avoiding his eyes, Erik reached over and brushed my hair – the messy strands that had worked their way loose from my pony tail - back from my face.
I looked up and he half-smiled at me. I tried to smile back, but I'm not sure if I pulled it off. Then he continued, not seeming to mind that I hadn't said anything. "I held you all night and I could barely sleep. All I could think was that you were crying before I said…what I did. Then I started to panic. I realized I could have hurt you, or forced you without meaning to, and that was why you cried." He paused and carefully cupped my cheek in his hand. His bright blue eyes were intense as he searched my face and looked deep into my eyes. "Are you sure that I didn't?"
Okay, this didn't explain why he was angry – and the way he was talking around whyhe'd been angry was making me crazy. But at this moment, this was more important. Worrying that he'd hurt me or forced me – when he definitely didn't - said tons about the kind of guy he was. My reasons for taking him…in my mouth… were pretty extreme and very possibly not very rational, but he didn't take advantage of me at all. He'd been so angry that things could have easily gotten out of control and ended badly in any number of ways, but they didn't. And now he was worried that he'd still somehow hurt me or forced me. This was the great guy I'd been falling for before my romantic life went to hell. I still needed to know what he'd thought or assumed that made him so hateful, but right now I was more than happy to reassure him about this.
He'd shifted enough that he was almost facing me. I uncrossed my legs and leaned forward, putting my hands on his legs just above his knees and looked intently into his worried blue eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong," I told him, with as much conviction as I could. "I knew exactly what I was doing." Then I realized how that sounded and backtracked, more than a little embarrassed, "well, not exactly…" and from the burning I felt in my face and neck and arms, I'm pretty sure I turned about eight shades of red.
Erik actually smiled, though, and rubbed my cheek in a way that was almost…reassuring. I met his eyes again and squeezed his legs in what I hoped was a reassuring gesture of my own. "I promise." I told him. "You didn't hurt me and you didn't force me. You were actually really…nice." My voice faltered a little, though, and it was hard to keep looking at him. He'd been wonderful, actually, then…
"Until I said…" Erik finished for me, and this time I felt the stab of the words he didn't repeat.
Sorry for stopping it here! The next part is one of the spots where I'm having trouble, so it may take me another couple days to figure it out - Erik finally admits what he thought, but I'm having trouble with Zoey's reaction...
