Wounds
Part Eleven
He drops back on the bed and stares at the door and I know why he's exhaling like he's been holding his breath. Turning away that person probably surprised even him at that moment and now he's finally submitting to it and rationalizing it for what it means to him. It's the Kanda way of doing things. For a man so stubborn, I've noticed that once he's defeated, he reaches for a solution to lift the weight from his crushed ego.
Dark eyes finally seek me out and I make no attempt to back down from them. This time, there's no overwhelming anger, because I had nothing to do with it. This time it's just his resolve and me as the witness. As such, it feels like his gaze is analytical and I feel like I'm being dissected. A vulnerable feeling settles across me, before I turn and open myself for him to see—expressions loose and body language exact.
"Why did you tell him to leave?" I ask, being the brave one to speak first; not letting his eyes throw me off like they normally could. This, I feel, is something big.
Of course, he doesn't reply. It's just not in his nature to reply to a direct question, but I'm alright with that. He is a man dictated by actions and words never seem to get to the point quite right. All it manages to do here is settle another long stretch of silence between us while both of us fish for the right way to go about this topic.
Another question is simply not the answer, because he'll be even less likely to respond if I repeat my initial attempt. Kanda is fickle if I ever saw and this makes me careful when I'm slowly walking him in circles. The circles I lead are slowly getting tighter and tighter until I've drawn him to the center and kept him there. He's stuck and I'm waiting to release him.
"It's your fault," he whispers and rolls away to face the wall, his cheek burying into the sheets that are clean tonight. Even though he's accusing me, I'm more than aware that the accusation is actually closer to that of an appreciation. Because of me, he had the power to push away what had been a curse for a long time.
"My fault, huh…" I say it like it's not a surprise and that's mostly because it's really not. I keep the tone light on purpose though, because I know if I have any hope of him speaking more, I have to draw it out of him slowly.
"Yes. It's because of you." He doesn't clarify, but he really doesn't need to. I know that it's the resonance of my body that's spoiled him. I can feel it in the way we both move together now. The weeks spent pushing other men away have made me aware of the subtle changes in him and how he almost seems to respond to me—instead of taking it like a worthless whore. His body learned to arch into mine and I can feel his heart evening out to mine now.
His screaming had died into softer, disgruntled noises that almost seemed like were being made out of obligation. Since my one instance of letting him go, I've been persistent and I've drawn him in closer with every time. It's at the point, where I honestly believe he's ready to realize the disillusioned belief he's been living with.
He's not ready to speak though and I'm not surprised. Just like anticipated, Kanda's only capable of actions and when he rolls back over and climbs out of the bed, I'm ready for it. Remaining where I am is easy, because he's sliding toward me and looming over—staring down at me with a very insistent intent. There a glittering in his eyes that almost make me break the dull look I'm giving him. It's because of this spark in Kanda that I feel so elated at the moment.
That elated feeling quickly shifts into something else once I've realized that he's taken the initiative and crawled into my lap—a knee on each side of my body while he comfortably rests across my front. It's not like I've never been so close—I've been way closer than this and many times at that—but this is an entirely new experience. This is something surreal, because this is Kanda taking control of the situation to this point. It's Kanda who has moved to me, snaking his arms around me until he's flush from hips to face with his cheek to mine.
"I hate you for doing this to me," he whispers, but it's weak and filled with hundreds of other meanings in between what appears to be unpleasant words. "I… told you…I was in control."
He wasn't, we both know, but I say nothing and let him make his claims. All I can really think about is this moment where I've got him. He's absolutely unable to deny the faults in his mindset and how wrong all of this was. That's why he doesn't even try; he just blames me for making it apparent. He's still a work in progress and I'm not willing to give it up. Squeezing him tightly in my arms, I move my cheek against his and neither of us bother to try and guess whose face is wetter.
Kanda won't be an easy one to guide all the way home, but I'm skilled in being patient and the end result is worth the wait. When I'm frustrated and ready to smack the sense into him, I'll think about this moment right here where I watched a lost man find a bit of himself, even if just for this moment.