We've been here for a while. We haven't said anything else since but I don't mind because it's not an uncomfortable silence. It never is. I feel like those three words are kind of floating around us but, again, it's not uncomfortable. I like it.

I opened my eyes not long ago for the first time since our confession and everything looks different. You know when you've been sunbathing for a while and you open your eyes and everything is sort of blue? It's a little like that. I wonder if it's really because I've had my eyes closed for an extended period of time or if it's because I'm seeing things differently now.

Time will only tell.

She still hasn't moved or opened her eyes. I turn to look at her and I see the tear tracks that have yet to be wiped clean. It makes me think of the rain, how the earth is left moist to remind you of all the bad things that have just been washed away making a clean slate, to remind you not to make the same mistake twice.

I can't promise that. Ashley is the first person I've ever had or wanted to take care of more than myself and I still have a way to go but I'm going to try my best, hoping she forgives the mistakes I'm sure to accumulate on the way. Hoping it will get easier as time goes on.

With us being silent I haven't had the chance to ask her what's wrong, what made her come here; if it was a sudden realisation or a sudden catastrophe. I'll ask soon but not yet, I don't want to push her.

I've never just known something before. Like earlier when I just knew that Ashley needed me. It's a new experience. Everything with Ashley is a new experience and I can't wait to go even further.

I'm still holding her hand, still giving her that rope to hold on to; to pull her back up if she falls. The same one she gave me. The same one I know she'll always give me.

The same one I know I'll always give to her.

I let go of her hand briefly to stand up and look down to her. She opens her eyes and blinks a few times. I wonder if she's seeing what I see, the different shade. And I wonder if she's wondering what it means, too.

It's not raining this time and it's not dark yet, it will be soon enough though. I reach down to help her up and our eyes lock, reminding me again of the last time we were here, when our positions were reversed. When all I needed was her.

She lets me pull her up and I just stand there for a moment letting her lean on me, taking whatever she needs from me.

###

I don't want to ask Ashley to drive, so I walk in the direction of my house knowing it's a lot closer than Ashley's. It will only take fifteen minutes to get there. I timed it once when I had nothing better to do or think about. Before Ashley.

I'm kind of nervous. I'm not sure I know how to do this. I mean, I want to. God, I want to so much, but what if I mess up? Ashley didn't seem to bat an eyelid with me, everything seemed to flow with her, everything was perfect and she knew right away what to do to make me feel safe and looked after.

I don't think I know how to do that, I don't think I know how to save a life.

It's almost dark now.

We're approaching my house and I notice everybody still seems to be out. I know Clay isn't in because he's the one who drove me to Ashley when I couldn't wait long enough to walk. He said he would be going out too and to call him if I needed him.

I open the door for Ashley and again our eyes lock. I hope mine are telling her that it's going to be okay, that I'm going to take care of her, just like hers told me. I grab hold of her hand and pull her upstairs to my room.

I put the light on as she sits down on my bed and I notice the tear tracks again. I can't take her into the bathroom and shower with her, it's too small. I can barely fit in it, so two people are a definite no. But that isn't my only option.

I leave the room for a moment to run downstairs for a bowl and then back up to the bathroom getting a wash cloth and some hot but bearable water. It's not the best, but it's all I can do with my limited resources.

She's still sitting on my bed and has her eyes on the doorway, waiting for my return. I kneel down on the floor next to the bed and dip the clean material into the water, letting it soak up for a moment. Reaching one hand up to her face, stroking it gently, I trace her tears before bringing the cloth up to her face. Her eyes closed as soon as I made contact with her, before the material touched her skin. I take my time to gently wipe away her pain, trying to make a clean slate. I took off what make-up she had left on her face and I notice that she looks different but in a good way. She looks younger, too.

I press a kiss to her forehead to let her know I've finished and it is okay to open her eyes. She keeps them closed and I'm rubbing circles on her hand to reassure her that it's okay, that she doesn't need to be embarrassed about anything; for needing me, for finally being vulnerable.

I take note of her clothes and I want to go get her something else to wear. They aren't soaked through, they aren't even wet. But have you ever had a moment where something happens, something important, good or bad and you take note of everything? What you're wearing, what you can see around you, what you can smell et cetera. And then with the days, weeks and months that follow you acknowledge the first everything's, the first shower since, the first time you had to go to work, the first time you've been sick, the first time you were able to take a breath and not feel as though you're suffocating.

Well I had that and I didn't want to be wearing the outfit where everything changed, so when Ashley gave me something else to wear I was grateful.

Her eyes opened at some point during my musings and she's looking at me so deeply and so intently that I almost look away. Almost.

We communicate through our eyes for a while, until my knees hurt and I can't kneel anymore. I just went to find Ashley something to wear and I can feel her eyes on me from across the room.

I can't decide what to give her when I spot something in the corner.

I walk back over to her and start to pull her shirt up when her gentle but firm grasp on my wrist stops me. I don't think she wants me to see her with the lights on, without at least some darkness around us. I need her to know that it's okay so I stop my ministrations to look into her eyes once more, hoping they convey everything without having to open my mouth and risk screwing anything up.

Her grip loosens and I wait a moment before pulling it up over her head, replacing it with the oversized hoodie she gave me almost two months ago. Two months that seem a lifetime ago.

I smooth out the bunched up material the best I can, leaving my hands resting on her forearms. She looks tired and I motion for her to lie down. She doesn't argue, doesn't open her mouth to say anything, she just does what I told her.

I dim the lights a little, enough to still see but enough so it's comfortable for her to fall asleep when she needs to. I get into bed next to her, wrapping a blanket around us much like she did for me.

She lifts her head up a little to look at me and I decide that her eyes are always intense, granted some times more than others, but they're still always intense. I wrap my arm around her and she moves closer, putting her head on my chest.

I don't know if she was originally trying to listen to my heartbeat or just trying to get comfortable but I do know that my heart is racing and I know she can hear it, feel it. I know it's just another rope for her.

Pulling her up.

Saving her life.