Worry is a new emotion for me. It has never really crossed my grid, ever. But in the span of a month I find it coming up more times then I can count. That, well, worries me. I stared at that door for so long. I worried if I gave to much, shared to much. I worried he was looking for the chance to bolt. I stayed back in position to duck out of view if the door opened and he was dressed again. I worried if I would have to watch him leave. He should, he should walk, no run out of here. He should cut all ties break free.
Pulling me close, no fucking way I could have called that. No way I deserved that. Him telling me it was okay? He was okay? I haven't been that fucked in the head on even the hardest of shit. But I will take it. And I take him. Down the hall to my room, to my bed. I drag him by the hand and feel no resistance which I take as a good sign.
He willingly follows and as I crawl from the end of the bed up to the top, never letting go he follows. My head finds part of the pillow, as it sinks in and I lay back I still feel our hands joined but the turn of them as he doesn't lay beside me but covers my body with his.
A/N: spotty FF for me tonight... I am trying... Short one I know and well...Tease tease tease. *not sorry* lol
