Clear and Bright: Chapter Seventeen: Listen

                                             
                                                   
The quiet darkness shifts.

Gentle noise.

Movement.

A dream...

Whispered agony.

Touch.

No... not a dream.

He's here.


My eyes won't open, the pain and exhaustion won't let them.

I can't see...

But I can hear.

I can feel.

Something pulled from my frozen grip.

Arms around me.

Lifting me.

Cradling me.

His arms.

Holding me close.

Enveloping me in warmth.

Strength.

I feel his heart beating against me.

Pounding.

I feel his breath on my face.

Murmurs of sorrow and regret.

His soft lips on my skin.

His cheek against mine.

His pain.

His fresh tears where mine have dried.



Moving.

Weightless.

Floating.

Flying.

The wounded little bird with the broken wing no longer helpless.

No longer alone.

No longer afraid.

Her eyes no longer sad.

No more tears flow from them.

They are his now.

She is loved.

I am loved.


He stops and one arm falls from around me and I whimper, trying to pull it back.

"Shhh... I've got you," he whispers, pulling me securely against him.

I hear a soft rustling sound and we're moving again, his arm back in place.

He stops again and I feel the downward shift. He's going to put me down.

I clutch desperately to him. "No... please... "

"I'm right here, sweetheart. It's okay."

"No... don't let go... please... I'm so cold... "

"I know, baby. I'm going to make that better, I promise. I'm going to make everything better... if you'll let me."

I clutch harder to his t-shirt and bury my face in the crook of his neck and he sighs.

"I know I did this... and I'm so sorry...

Can you open your eyes for me? I won't ask you to trust me right now... but can you open your eyes so I can show you?"

I fight my heavy lids and open my eyes. He's on his knees in front of the fireplace, a pillow and warm blanket clutched in his hand... it's what he let go for. He still holds me securely, waiting for my understanding.

"You're frozen, Claire... I just want to start a fire... it will warm you up faster... if I could do it with you in my arms I would, but I can't, sweetheart... I have to put you down. Okay?"

I nod my head and he smiles at me, pulling me against him with one arm as he tosses the pillow onto the floor. He shakes the blanket out, letting it unfold, and begins to wrap it around me before laying me down. I curl into a ball and he tucks it around me, and an angry expression forms on his face. I pout at him and he shakes his head.

"What am I going to do with you? Hmmm?" He takes my hands in his, blowing his hot breath on them and trying to warm them, before planting a kiss on each and tucking them under the blanket. "I know I'm an asshole... and I know my actions hurt you... and as broken as I am over that... and as much as it would punctuate everything that this was about... I should blister your ass for your little window stunt."

I frown at his chosen words, "My ass? You don't want it anymore?" I ask sadly.

He rolls his eyes at me and turns to tend to building a fire. I watch him, looking for some understanding of why he stayed away from me for so long, but I can't find it through his irritation at my stupidity. I know that's not all he feels, I felt his tears on my face, but the confusing storm that he is is brewing right before my eyes.

The flames start to rise up and a flicker of an amber glow catches my eye. Like the last time I laid here, there is a bottle on the table beside the chair, and beside it, an empty glass. This is where he was. Sitting right here in this room, perhaps trying to numb himself, just as I was, just in a different way. A deep shiver runs through me, the cold still not releasing me from it's hold, and he looks at me sadly.

"Can I have some of that?" I ask, gesturing my head towards the bottle. "Is it true that it warms your insides?"

He glances at it warily, then back to me. "It does, I suppose, but I don't think you'd like it very much. I can get you something hot that you'll like much better. Hot chocolate?"

"Can I try it?"

"Who am I to tell you no? " he says with a sigh, and grabs the bottle.

"Who are you and what have you done with Jaimin?" I stare at him with mock horror as I struggle out of my cocoon to sit up.

He gives me a small smile and puts the glass to my lips, tilting it just enough to give me a small sip. I swallow and my eyes go wide. It burns my throat, making me cough and gag. It courses through me and burns my stomach, not exactly the warmth I was expecting. I blink back the tears that prick my eyes and frown.

"Are you okay?" he asks, stroking my hair.

"It burns. I don't like it."

"I'll get you some water."

He's up and moving before I can say anything. My eyes follow him until I can no longer see him. Something in my peripheral vision catches my attention and my mouth falls open in shock as I see the massive expanse of bare walls where the 'Gallery of Me' once hung. It was there just a few hours ago. Now it's just gone.

What have I done?

He turned his back on me.

He sat in this room for hours.

Alone.

He didn't even want to see my face.

He doesn't sound like himself.


I can't breathe.

This can't be happening.

I don't understand.

I felt his tears.

He said he was broken.

Broken.


I don't see him come back into the room.

I don't hear him.

I don't even feel him until he's on his knees in front of me and cups my chin to turn my face to his.

"Don't misunderstand."

"I think it's clear... "

"For me, not for you."

"But that's the nature of things like this, isn't it? Someone's always in the dark... until... "

"No, Claire... "

"Don't, Jaimin. I know you think I'm a weak little girl... but I'm not. You don't have to baby me. Just do it. Take it all away. Punish me. I killed your dream. Make me suffer for it. Hurt me. Break me."

"Jesus, what have I done to you?"

"Not enough, which is completely humiliating... " I wipe the stupid tears from my face and throw the blanket off. Maybe the burn will kill the sick feeling in my stomach. I crawl over to the table and grab the glass, taking a long, burning drink. It sears everything it touches, sets my insides on fire.

"Stop, Claire, you're going to make yourself sick." He takes the glass from my hand and hands me the water he was still holding.

"I already am sick."


I understand now.

The tears weren't for me.

They were for her.

His ruined dream girl.

Ruined by real.

Ruined by me.

And now he can't even stand to look at her anymore.


Well, okay. I won't make him say it. I can be selfless for him one more time.

Selfless?

No.

Not even a little bit.

I'm not selfless.

Selfish.

That's what I am.

That's what I've always been.

I don't want to hear him say it.

I don't want to feel the pain of that sound.


"Claire... " He's staring at me. Confused. Guilty.

"No... I'm sorry. I really am. I did try...

I just couldn't compete.

Your dream was too beautiful.

Too perfect.

I'm sorry you wasted so much time.

I'm sorry I disappointed you... "

"Stop this."

Now even my voice is making him sick.

I nod my head and stand, and walk from the room.

I don't belong here anymore.

I'm on the outside again.

Locked in and then thrown out.

Unwanted.

Ugly.


I go to the closet in his bedroom and open the doors.

There she is.

This is where he put her.

I hate her.

I hate her stupid face.

I hate her big, stupid eyes.

My mother was right.

They steal souls.

I bared mine and she took it away from me.



I pull a sweater over my head. I don't care that I'm wearing my pajamas. It doesn't matter.

"Claire."

I don't answer him. He doesn't have to say anything. He doesn't have to tell me why. It doesn't matter. When something is spoiled, you throw it away. You don't need any reason when something's just no good.

I grab my boots and walk out of the closet, closing the doors behind me, locking her in. I only get a few steps before he grabs my arm roughly, and rips the boots from my hand, throwing them across the room.

"Damn it, Claire! I said stop!"

I look at him now.

He's angry.

Trembling with it.

Rolling.

Crashing.

Confusing.

Storm.

I try to pull away, but he tightens his hold, his fingers digging into my arm. "Where the hell do you think you're going?"

"I don't know what you want me to do," I whisper, the tears coming again.

"Don't leave me, Claire. Don't ever leave me."

His chilling tone makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. I'm so confused... "But you don't want me.  You don't want to see my face. You don't want to hear my voice. You... "

His eyes are blazing. "I what? Not one word of that has any semblance of truth, and you damn well know it! What the hell kind of game are you playing?"

"I'm not... I... I... " He's so angry... I can't focus... It feels like he's crushing my arm. The new tears forming in my eyes now are from pain. Unrelenting pain. "Jaimin... please... you're hurting me... "

My voice cracks with my pleading words and his anger turns to instant horror. He drops my arm and steps back, repeatedly reaching for me and pulling his hands back in a helpless, lost gesture.

It doesn't matter how hurt and confused I am. He's hurting now and it's breaking my heart.

I take a step, and reach towards him and he backs away.

"Okay," I say quietly, putting my hands behind my back. "I won't touch you. I don't... I'm just... You turned around and walked out on me. You needed to be away from me. I didn't understand. You said a few minutes but you didn't come back...

And then I thought I had just been stupid... You seemed upset... but then when I saw that you took the paintings down... I just... I thought... "

He continues to stare helplessly at me, saying nothing.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do. I don't know what you want. Do you want me to shut up? Do you want me to just go away? Can you help me? Please?"

"Take off the sweater."

"Okay." I pull it off and he reaches for it.

"Are you still cold?" he asks, taking it from me and crossing the room to pick up my boots from where he threw them, and walking to the closet.

"Yes," I answer, not looking. I don't want to see her.

"Go sit in front of the fire."

"Okay."

"I swear to God, Claire... if you go near that door... "

"I won't." I shake my head.

So confusing...

I go back to the living room and sit down in front of the fire just like he told me to, and hug my knees to my chest. As much as I try to ignore it, as much as I don't want to look, my eyes are pulled back to the emptiness.

I didn't know he'd come into the room and his quiet voice startles me from beside me, "It was time to let go. I'm sorry... I didn't mean to scare you."

I look at him now, his face is soft and apologetic, vulnerable and innocent again. He has one of his sweatshirts in his hand and he holds it up. "May I?"

I nod and he gently pulls it over my head and helps me to slip my arms through the sleeves. He pulls my hair free and gives me a sweet smile. I'm drowning in it, but I can tell by the look on his face that he thinks it's adorable. He reaches forward and grabs my legs and spins me slightly around so I'm facing him. He picks up a pair of his socks from beside him and holds them up for me to see. I nod again and he puts them on me. I giggle at how big they are on my small feet and he smiles as he rolls them over and over.

"You're so little and delicate," he says quietly, trailing his thumbs over the tops of my feet, resting them on his legs.

"Jaimin... "

"I'm sorry I hurt you, Claire. I didn't... again... I... "

"I know. I know you weren't trying to. I'm okay.

What did you mean? It was time to let go? I don't understand... "

"I know you don't. Everything... I know you misunderstood. I know you're confused. I know you're hurt, and probably scared. I know you're exhausted. All of that is my fault... but how could you misunderstand so easily? To think I don't want you? To think I don't want to see your face or hear your voice? How can it be so easy for you to forget everything I've ever said to you? Everything you know? So easy for you to just give up and leave me? Without giving me the chance to explain...

I wasn't letting go of you. I could never do that. I will never do that. You're here. You're real. I don't need that dream anymore. I don't need someone else's vision of you. I have you. You said some things that were hard for me to hear. I just needed to process it... I didn't need to get away from you... I just needed to think... without the distraction of your beautiful face... your big brown eyes looking at me with so much love... I can't think clearly when you look at me like that. I'm making so many mistakes with you. You're here and I'm fucking it all up... and you just keep forgiving me... and even if I know I've done or said something wrong... you look at me and tell me it's okay... and I let you. That's wrong. It's not okay, Claire.

It's not okay for me to hurt you. It will never be okay. It's not okay for me to tell you not to bend and then demand that you do. It's not okay to be some unpredictable storm that you have to weather and endure... just because you love me...

Love isn't supposed to hurt. Love isn't a free pass to batter and destruct and destroy the person who gives it to you. The person who's everything to you. You don't have to endure that for me. You have to stop. You have to make me stop. Help me, Claire. I'm scared. I'm terrified of breaking you.

I know you shouldn't have to... but I'm asking you. Can you help me? I don't always see... Help me see, sweetheart, before I destroy everything. You're fragile and delicate... but you're not a weak little girl. I don't see you that way. You know better than that. You're strong. You don't give in to me because you're weak. You choose. I know that. I don't have as much control over you as you try to make me think I do. You have all of the control, and you choose when to let it look like it's mine. Now you know that I know it. If I didn't find it so adorable, it would probably piss me off. And if I didn't know how hard it is for you to do it at all.

I know what you give me, and I know that sometimes it's more than you should. Even if it doesn't feel like it now, I don't want you to look at me one day and decide I took too much from you. It will kill me if I ever see that in your eyes. Don't let me take too much. Please. Because I'm not sure I can help myself. Don't let me lose you, Claire. Don't let me lose everything."

"You can't lose me, Jaimin, unless you choose to let go. That's what I thought you did. That's why I was going to leave... Not because I wanted to. Because I thought you'd decided that I didn't belong here anymore. I wanted to go before you could say it. I couldn't bear to hear what those words would sound like. Not from you."

"You'll never hear that from me. Those words don't exist. That should have never entered your mind, no matter how stupid I acted, no matter what you misunderstood. You know better.

I will never understand what goes on in that head of yours. How in a matter of a few short hours you can go from knowing I love you to to thinking I don't want you. It's inconceivable to me."

My eyes flit again to the naked space. It's taunting me. Teasing me. Laughing at me. You'll never fill it.

His voice pulls me from it's sneer, "Look at me." His eyes are pleading for understanding as I meet them. "I came in here to see things clearly. To not be distracted by your beautiful face. Your love-filled eyes. Your open and forgiving heart. Of course that's ridiculous, because your face was everywhere...

I sat and stared at it, like I've done countless times, but it was different. It didn't give me peace. Something was wrong. Something was missing. It wasn't my face. They weren't my eyes. An irrational panic took hold of me. Why couldn't I see it? There was no love. There was no trust. There was no forever. I got lost in it. Searching... I searched and searched, but couldn't find it. It just wasn't there.

I was never going to find it, because it wasn't mine.

I searched through my mind for the dream, willing it to come to me. It came, but it was wrong, too. It wasn't bright enough. It wasn't vivid enough. It wasn't good enough. It wasn't beautiful enough. It wasn't even close. It could never compete with you.

And you were right down the hall. Where I left you. Waiting for me. Everything I wanted... everything I needed was here, just feet away from me, and I was wasting time.

Your face. This face right here in front of me... that I can see... that I can touch... that smiles at me...

These eyes that bring me to my knees with the love I see in them...

This mouth... What a mouth... Nothing I ever dreamed could begin to... " He gives me an exasperated smile, not finishing the thought, and cups my face in his hands. "I let go, because I didn't need it anymore. I have you."

"You're not disappointed at all?"

"Disappointed? NO, Claire... how could you even ask me that? I am not, have never been, and could never be disappointed by you. What I am is completely and utterly derailed by you. I think you know that. I think you know it absolutely. Can you try not to forget it every time I act like a complete idiot? Can you try not to forget how much I love you? I hurt you more than enough, don't hurt yourself by creating things in your head that aren't there. Things that you know better than to ever think. Things that aren't possible.

I took the paintings down... something I should have done weeks ago, and put them away. I went to you... I felt the cold before I got there. I should have felt it long before I did... walking in there and seeing you like that... shivering... hurt on your sleeping face... hurt I caused after the beautiful thing you did...

I closed the window... I was terrified to see what you'd drawn... I knew it would kill me. It hurt so much to see what I'd done, but I knew that seeing you express it would rip me wide open. That little bird... with your eyes... crying your tears... broken...

I don't want to break you, Claire. I'm so sorry." He wraps his arms low around my waist, and buries his face in my neck and hair, pulling me into his lap. "I'm so, so sorry. I don't know what I can do to fix this, but I promise I'll figure it out. I promise I will."

"I can help you with that. It's easy."

He raises his head and looks at me. I smile at him and his eyes grow wary. I laugh and shake my head. "No, not that, unless... would that work?"

"That is what started all of this... " he says with a sigh, "but no, that won't work."

"I didn't think so," I say with a sigh of my own.

He looks at me with serious eyes and I give him a chaste kiss. "All you have to do is not let go."

"That's too easy. Don't you want to make me suffer?"

"No. But can I make a request?"

"You can ask for almost anything, and I'll do everything in my power to give it to you."

"I hear you. Can we sleep here tonight? Well, what's left of it. Like the first night?"

He gives me a boyish grin and nods. "But we need more blankets. Let me just go... "

"Oh no you don't... I'm coming with. I don't like watching you walk away."

"Okay, beautiful. That I understand. I promise I'll never do that to you again."

I climb from his lap and stand, holding my hand out to him. He takes it and hops to his feet, gesturing me to walk in front of him. It doesn't occur to me why until I feel him lift his sweatshirt.

"Shameless," I snicker.

"Perfect," he murmurs. "And mine."

He's back...




                                                  ~




I peel my robe off and reach up to hang it on the hook on the back of the bathroom door when I see my arm in the mirror. Crap! Deep reddish-purple bruises have formed overnight, his desperate grip vivid and alive against my pale skin. It looks... horrible. It looks so much worse than it is. What the hell am I going to do? I can't let him see this... he'd be furious that I kept it from him, but if he saw it? No. This isn't like the other one. This is bad. No way. He already knows he hurt me... I told him... I didn't hide it. I told him and he let go. Immediately. It's over. No good can come from telling him that he left a mark. Okay, a lot of marks. No... no good at all. Absolutely none. He can't see it. He just can't.

My best hope of hiding it from him is to be dressed, and I am certainly not dressed now. I shower as quickly as I can and dry off, towel dry my hair, and slip back into the robe. I wish I'd have laid my clothes out before, but there's nothing I can do about that now. I rush into the bedroom and fling open the closet doors. I don't need anything special, I'm just going to be locked up in his office all day, and I certainly don't want to look in the least bit alluring, so I grab a comfortable-yet-stylish cowl neck sweater and a pair of jeans and rush to the bureau to select some lacy goodies. Throwing it all on the bed, I start to take the robe off and I hear him.

"My timing is impeccable."

I jump at the sound of his voice and pull it tightly closed, wrapping it around myself. How could I forget to close the door?

"Startling you is becoming a regular occurrence. I'm sorry... but since I'm here... why don't you let me help you with that? Then, if you don't mind, I think I'll help myself to what's underneath."

Are you kidding me? Now? And I have to say no? I think I'm going to cry.

He starts to move towards me and I take a step back, smiling at him and shaking my head.

"No? Try again, sweetheart."

"I think you should focus on the day ahead. We're already running late... and you promised we'd get my new phone on the way to Jouissance. I'll be lonely... I'll miss you so much... I'll be unbearably sad if I can't get sweet little messages from you... "

"I have every intention of keeping my promise. Stop backing away from me, Claire."

"You don't want to disappoint all of those hungry people that are coming for lunch prepared by your brilliant hands... "

"Let me show you what else I can do with my brilliant hands. For starters."

Oh my...

Maybe I could keep the robe on my arms...

So, you're willing to keep secrets from him that you know will infuriate him while selfishly letting him indulge himself to please you? 


I really hate you right now.

"Why so shy all of the sudden? Let go of the robe."

"Jaimin... I... "

He starts to pull my hands free and my attempt to hold tight stops him. "Are you actually telling me no?"

Not because I want to... "Yes."

"Okay. That's your right."

And it's killing me...

"But tell me something... "

Uh oh.

"Why are you shaking, Claire?"

"I just don't want you to be upset with me."

"Look at me when I talk to you."

Please, face... I am begging you...

"You wouldn't be lying to me, would you?"

"No. Of course not... "

"I think you are."

"No... "

"Or hiding something from me."

"I'm pretty sure you've seen everything."

"Do I look amused by your smart mouth, Claire?"

"No."

"Direct questions seem to work best with you. Are you hiding something from me?"

"Please... I don't... "

"Answer the question I asked you."

I can't lie to him. "Yes. But... "

"Yes was all I needed. I'm not interested in your excuses."

"Jaimin... "

"So, you've denied me, lied to me, and you're hiding something from me."

"I didn't lie to you."

"We'll get your phone as promised, but I wouldn't expect any sweet messages from me today. Get dressed."

"Please don't be angry with me."

"I can't trust you. I'm not sure angry fully describes what I'm feeling."

What? Can't trust me? Oh... this isn't what I wanted at all. "That's not true. Please don't say that."

He turns to walk away with an expression I've never seen on his face before. An expression I never want to see again.

"Please don't walk away from me. You promised... "

He stops but doesn't turn around.

"I made a mistake. I didn't want you to get upset... that's the only reason... and now... "

He turns now, angry and irritated, "Get upset about what? What was so damn important that it was worth breaking my trust for?"

I give up. I have to show him. It can't be worse than this. I start to open the robe with trembling hands and his eyes narrow. He's about to yell at me again when he sees it. He walks towards me and I look down, I can't bear the pain and regret I see in his eyes at what he's done.

"That's why," I whisper, "I didn't want to see you look like that."

He takes my arm gently in his hands, holding it out, turning it, examining it closely. His hands are shaking, his voice trembling as he speaks. "Claire... you can't hide something like this from me. You can't. I understand that you don't want to see me hurt... but this... I hurt you. I really hurt you. I... I don't... I can't...

How can you even let me touch you? Of course you said no... "

"I said no because I didn't want you to see it, not because I didn't want you to touch me. There were a lot of misunderstandings last night... a lot of hurt feelings... a lot of irrational fear. We're both at fault for that. We both got thrashed around in that storm... "

"Don't. Don't try to say it's okay. Look at what I did to you! The only person that got thrashed around was you! Look at what I did, Claire! It's not okay! You saw it, and the only thing you cared about was trying to protect me from seeing it! That is seriously fucked!"

"Please calm down. I know it looks bad, but it really doesn't hurt. It's a little tender, that's all. I swear that's the truth. I'm sorry that I tried to hide it from you. I just... "

"Do not apologize to me."

"But..."

"I'm not happy about what you tried to do, but I will not stand here and look at your battered body, battered by me, and listen to you tell me that you're sorry. Don't."

"Battered? That's a bit extreme, don't you think? It's a couple of bruises on my arm. Bruises that we both know you didn't mean to put there. There's no damage done. Please don't make this more than it is. I know you feel terrible, I understand that, but... "

"Stop."

"Please... "

"No." He walks to the bureau and pulls a camisole from the drawer, tossing it on the bed with the rest of my clothes. "Put that on under the sweater. Get dressed and dry your hair. We'll leave as soon as you're ready. I have a few phone calls to make, I'll just be in the other room. Come out when you're finished."

There's so many things I want to say, but I keep my mouth shut. I don't want to upset him any more than he already is. I get ready as quickly as I can, applying a touch more makeup than usual, the lack of sleep and tearful night showing itself miserably on my face.

He's leaning against the door as I come out of the hallway. He has my coat in his hands and my bag is already waiting on the table by the door. I put the two sketchbooks I'm carrying down, and let him help me on with my coat.

"It's cold today," he murmurs, as he turns me gently around to fasten the buttons. A scowl forms on his face as he looks at me and he tilts my chin up. "You don't need all of that. I don't like it."

"Okay. Would you like me to go wash my face?"

"No. Let's just go, we have another stop to make."

I don't ask where. I pick up my bag and sketchbooks and let him lead me out the door and to his truck. He glances at me often, but doesn't say anything during the drive. My mind is a scatter of thoughts and I don't realize where we're going until he pulls in to the drive of his parents' house. He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes briefly before getting out and coming to open my door. He holds his hand out to me and I take it, and jump down. He doesn't drop my hand as we walk up the steps and to the front door. He opens it without knocking and pulls me inside. Aricin is there just as we enter the foyer, and greets me warmly with a kiss on my cheek.

"Thank you for waiting, Dad. I know you were on your way out."

"Your mother said you wanted to talk to us and it was important. She said you sounded upset. Is everything alright?"

"No."

Caressa comes down the staircase with worry all over her face. "Oh, darling, what's wrong?"

My breath catches slightly as she pulls us both into a hug, unknowingly crushing the tender part of my arm. He looks at me with a broken expression and pulls me from her embrace.

Caressa's face is confused, "What did I do? Claire, are you hurt?"

I smile and shake my head at her. Jaimin clears his throat and looks at me and I know. He came here to tell them. I shake my head at him but he only looks down and busies himself with the buttons of my coat.

"Actually, Mom, she is."

No. He can't do this. What is he thinking?

"Oh no! Well, darling, let's get you off of your feet. Jaimin, bring her to the couch. Now, tell me what happened, Claire, you were fine last night."

"Really, I'm fine. Don't listen to him, he's exaggerating, it's just a bruise."

"I can imagine why he would worry. Your lovely skin is so fair, the littlest bruise must look dreadful against it. Did you fall?"

"She didn't fall."

My eyes plead with him not to do this, but he turns his gaze from me to his father. They lock eyes for a moment, and then Aricin looks at me intently. He glances at his son once more before coming to kneel before me where I now sit on the couch, Jaimin perched on the edge beside me.

"May I see?"

He knows.

"It's nothing," I murmur quietly.

"I'd like to see, Claire."

I reach for Jaimin's hand, and he takes mine in his, but uses the opportunity to hold it while he reaches under my sweater carefully with the other and frees my arm. This is why he told me to wear the camisole.

Caressa gasps loudly and covers her mouth, her eyes wide.

Aricin leans up and cradles my arm in his hands, taking a closer look.

"Tell them it's nothing," I whisper to him. "Please."

"I can't do that. It's not nothing."

"Intense people sometimes have intense moments. He was overcome. For a moment. You said you understood that."

He sighs and gives my hand a gentle squeeze and places it in my lap. He pulls a heavy wooden table from beside the couch to in front of us and sits on it. "Tell me what happened."

"Isn't it obvious?" Caressa screeches, coming closer. "Do you not see that that's his hand print on her? Jaimin, how could you?"

Aricin puts his hand up and it shocks me that it silences her. "And he's clearly distraught over it. As unsettling as it is to see, they're here. Give him some credit for that."

She nods, but hasn't taken her eyes from my arm. I slip it back into my sleeve, the elephant in the room at least covered up. She comes to sit on the other side of me and grabs my hand. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine. It's nothing."

"Are there others?"

"NO."

Apparently my answer isn't enough to satisfy them. They exchange a look and Aricin turns to Jaimin for truth he's not sure I'll give.

"No. That's more than enough."

"I agree, son. I'm glad that's all. Has it happened before?"

"No."

I feel all of their eyes on me.

"Well, that I was aware of."

Damn face.

"Claire."

"It was hardly noticeable."

His voice is tight, "When?"

I look at Caressa. She understands.

"The day I was there."

"Yes. And you know how innocent that was."

Tighter still, "And you hid it from me."

"Like I said, it was hardly noticeable."

"Not the point."

Aricin steps in, "She told me about that. What caused it and how the situation was brought under control. What was the reason this time?"

"She was leaving. I grabbed her... harder than I realized. Much harder... too hard... I didn't mean to... I just didn't want her to leave... "

"And how was the realization made?"

My turn. "I told him and he let go. He didn't hesitate for a second. This is ridiculous. Please... I understand why he's upset, but it's nothing. It's over. I'm not broken, I'm not hurt, and he shouldn't be torturing himself like this. Nor should he be put on trial like this. I don't like it. I want it to stop."

"We're not putting him on trial, Claire. We just want to understand what happened. No one here wants it to happen again, him most of all. I can see that you're upset about this, but if he didn't care about you so much, he wouldn't have come here. He doesn't want to hurt you. He's just trying to protect you."

"I don't need protecting from him. I thought you understood."

"I do, but what I told you was that I wasn't concerned as long as you felt safe."

Jaimin is looking back and forth between us, and speaks just as I'm about to answer. "When was this conversation?"

"The first night you brought me here. Outside in your truck."

He nods his head, but doesn't say anything else. I turn back to Aricin, "I do feel safe. That hasn't changed."

Caressa is shockingly quiet beside me. It makes me nervous, like waiting for a volcano to erupt, stuck helplessly in the impending lava's path.

Aricin is watching me thoughtfully, "I want to ask you something. And I want you to think carefully before you answer. Don't give me the automatic, think about what's really true. It may be hard, but it's important. Will you do that?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Will you answer honestly?"

Jaimin picks up my hand and places it gently in his. It's a plea for truth.

"Yes."

"He said you were leaving?"

"It was a misunderstanding. It was my fault."

"Are you going to take responsibility for everything, Claire?"

"No," I say defensively, "It was my fault. I jumped to a ridiculous conclusion and wouldn't give him the chance to explain it to me. He's not to blame for that. And if I could just say something before you continue... he's not perfect, I do know that, but I can be a complete brat sometimes. Don't think he always has it easy."

He gives me a small smile. "I can see how that may be possible. But, Claire... easy or not, he has to maintain a careful amount of self control with you. He can't not realize. That's dangerous for both of you."

"He wouldn't hurt me."

"He did hurt you."

"Not intentionally."

"I know that. I don't doubt that for a second. But this brings me to my point. This is where it will get hard for you. His trigger involves losing you in some way. Any way. Caressa trying to pull you from his grip... You trying to leave. You say he wouldn't hurt you. You say you feel safe. That may be true. You may believe that. While you're where he wants you. But what if you truly wanted to leave?"

Tightening.

"I don't. I'm not just where he wants me. I'm where I want to be."

"You're not answering my question."

"I did."

"No. What if you truly wanted to leave him?"

Crushing.


Pain.

"Ow. Jaimin... "

Aricin reaches over and pulls my hand from his unconsciously crushing grip. It takes both hands, but he frees it. He's looking at it now, bending all of my fingers.

"I'm fine. You've made your point."

Jaimin leans forward, burying his face in his hands. I pull my hand from it's unnecessary examination and place it on his back.

"Please don't," he whispers.

I frown and let it fall to the couch between us.

"You still haven't answered my question, Claire."

"I'm not going to."

"I think you should. I think you need to. I think you need to say it out loud and he needs to hear it."

"For Christ's sake, Dad, what are you trying to do?"

"I know this is hard for both of you, but I'm trying to help you. It's why you came here. I know that wasn't easy. And you wouldn't be here if you weren't scared. You need to hear her answer. But maybe you should hear it from across the room."

He turns to look at me and picks up my hand again like it's the most fragile thing in the world. He brings it to his lips and kisses it softly before placing it in my lap and standing.

"No," I say, shaking my head and reaching for him.

He strokes my cheek with his thumb as he pulls my hand from his pants, which is all I could grab when Caressa tried to hold me back. "I want you to answer him. And until I can trust myself, I don't want you in my reach when I hear it."

"I trust you."

"Too much," he sighs, crossing the room. "Do this for me? Please?"

"I can't answer that question. I'm never going to want to leave."

"It's just an if, Claire," Aricin insists.

"What do you want me to say? What's the magic answer you're all waiting for? Do you want me to say I'd be afraid? Do I think he'd hurt me if I tried to leave him? Would I feel safe if I wanted to go? I don't know! I don't think he'd ever let me leave!"

I regret it the second the words are out of my mouth.

I regret the words.

I regret what they imply.

I regret the tone I spoke them in.

Screamed them in.

But more than anything, I regret the look they've put on his beautiful face.

I want to make it go away. I get up and walk purposefully to where he is, and grab the hand he puts up in protest, my voice soft, "It doesn't matter. Ifs are kind of like dreams, they're not real. Ifs are I don't knows. Ifs are could bes and maybes and maybe nots. They're hazy and foggy and unsettled. I don't live my life by ifs. Ifs aren't solid. I don't love you with ifs. There's no if in my heart. And I'm not afraid. I'm not afraid of what you could do to me if I tried to leave you, because that will never happen. I won't ever leave. I won't ever want to leave. My last stop. I had to run to get to you, but Jaimin... they let me go. I got confused last night. I got hurt and confused and let my crazy head tell my feet to move. You didn't let me go. You didn't just stand there and let me leave the place I belong. You stopped me. I'm not afraid of that. I'd be afraid if I thought you wouldn't."

 "I'm sorry."

"I know. I don't want it to happen again."

His face contorts with sorrow and guilt and I know he's misinterpreted my words.

"No... listen to me. Not because you hurt me - and I'm not saying it's okay - but because of why. Not because I'm afraid... because you are. Your fear of losing me hurts me far more than any physical pain you could inflict by trying to hold on to me. You have to stop being afraid. You won't stop hurting me until you do that. I wish I knew what I could give you to make that fear fall away. I'd give it to you. I'd give you anything. But I don't know what that is. I don't know what you need. If you know, please tell me. Just ask. I won't deny you. I promise."

"You. I need you."

"Already yours."

"But would you give yourself to me again?"

"Yes. Is that what you need? To know that I would again? To know that I would now?"

He nods with the most beautiful, innocent expression on his face. Vulnerable.

"Yes. A thousand times. Ten thousand times. How ever many days are in forever. Today. Tomorrow. Every day. No matter how chaotic the storm. No matter how infuriating the arrogant bastard, and believe me, he is. The answer will always be yes. I want you to add that to your notes."

He lifts our joined hands and presses mine gently to his face. "I love you."

"I know."

He looks over my head and a boyish grin appears on his face. "They know, too."

I turn and his parents have moved to sit together, their hands entwined, fear and worry turned for the moment to simple understanding and love as they watch us. And perhaps a bit of awe. They do know.

Caressa begins to speak and I brace myself for the eruption, but it doesn't come. "Just keep talking to him, Claire. He hears you. I'll still worry, I think we both will, but your voice... the words you speak to him... they're his peace. As long as he can hear you, you'll both be safe."

I smile at her understanding.

"And Claire? Don't forget to listen."

Jaimin chuckles and gives my hair a gentle tug and she scowls at him. It only makes him chuckle harder as he pulls me along to where they sit.

"Mom, if you keep making that face, it might stick and then you'll just look angry all of the time. You're far too pretty for that."

"I believe I told you that many times about the smirk that so often lives on yours. And don't forget, you got most of your pretty from me."

"Now, Caressa, in all fairness... I'm pretty sure he got that smirk from you, too."

Her mouth drops open and Jaimin and Aricin burst out laughing. She narrows her eyes at me and the infamous Guillory smirk appears unstoppable on her face.

"My point exactly," I say with a satisfied smile.

"You are a smart-mouthed little brat, aren't you?"

Jaimin gives an exasperated sigh, "You have no idea... "



                                             ~


I'm back in my cell, trying to figure out my new phone. The storm raged furiously when I wanted to transfer my contacts. The storm won. My list is comprised only of his, his parents - home and each of their cells - the Bouchards - daughter not included, not that I don't know it, and not that I care - and Emilie. He knows of my plan to rescue her when I figure out what I'm doing. And he feels sorry for her, even though the Bouchards try to keep Nadine away from her - and stopped her from firing her - she's unhappy. He even offered to give her a job here if she wanted until I had something to offer her.

There's a knock on his office door. He would never knock, I can't imagine who else it would be. "Yes?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, Claire, but something came for you."

I get up and open the door, recognizing Marie's voice. She stands holding a bouquet of roses. Black roses. I don't doubt for a second who they're from. Why would she bring them to me?

"Interesting, but still beautiful. I've never seen roses this color before."

Because she doesn't know.

"Marie, does Jaimin know about these?"

"Well, he was in the kitchen when they came, but I assumed he sent them, so I just brought them to you. I figured if he wanted to hand them to you himself, he wouldn't have had them delivered."

I take them from her with a forced smile, knowing I'll probably never see her again.

"I know it's probably personal, and tell me if I'm out of line to ask, but does the color mean something?"

"Depends on the sender, I suppose."

She takes my response as dismissive and excuses herself. I feel sorry for her that she'll get fired for simply being innocent. Maybe I can plead her case. Not that it will do any good.

I sit them down on the floor, it doesn't seem right to put them on his desk, and look through the menacing bouquet for a card. I know I shouldn't, I should just tell him now, but I want to see how angry he is. I find it and read his words.

You know about colors. You know about depth. You know how I feel about you. Feelings that deep don't die, but they can bleed. They can turn and twist and slice through you like the blade of a knife. They can change you. You should be more careful with them than you are with your colors. They're getting ugly, Claire. Something so beautiful shouldn't be mutilated. But it can.


I drop the card to the floor and my fingers are trembling as I type my message.
C: When you're not busy, could you come to your office, please?

J: I'm not busy if you need me.

C: I need you.

It seems only seconds before he's through the door. He takes one look at me and rushes to put his arms around me. "Even with all of that stuff on your face, you're white as a ghost, what's wrong?"

I point to the floor where the flowers lay mocking me with their sinister blooms, the card beside them where it fell from my hand.

He picks up the card and I see the darkness take over. "Where the fuck did this come from?"

"She said it was delivered... "

"She? And she brought it to you? She is about to feel a wrath of fury that will haunt her for the rest of her life!"

"She didn't know... she said she'd never seen that color before... it's not her fault... she thought you sent them... she just... "

"Don't open this door for anyone else! No one! Do you understand me?"

"Yyyyes," I manage to stutter out, as he grabs the flowers from the floor and storms out, slamming the door. I hear his keys and watch the turn of the lock and am left with silence. I know he's not done with me, the storm will come back to thrash me for reading...

A shiver runs through me as I see the words again in my mind. This is what fear feels like. This is what it feels like not to feel safe. This is what it feels like to know someone would hurt you. Someone that says they love you. Someone that let go but can't. I wished him happiness. He wants to take mine. He wants me to feel pain. He wants me to bleed.

No.

He doesn't get that power.

I have everything.

He can't take it from me.

Jaimin won't let him hurt me.

He'd never let him take anything from me.

I have to stop giving.

I shouldn't have read it.

I shouldn't have let it frighten me.

I shouldn't have let him in to the safety Jaimin has wrapped me in.

I shouldn't have let him disturb the calm.

I shouldn't have let his words take our peace.

Our peace.

It never seems to last very long.

Are we ever just going to have a calm, peaceful day?

I smile at the thought of my beautiful, chaotic storm, and say a silent prayer that we will, and head to his private bathroom. Oh, my arrogant, pretentious love... this place belongs in a palace. Well, your Queen is going to wash her face in her King's sink. Two mentions of  'all of that' is more than enough for me. I'm not even wearing that much, nothing close to the made up faces of his former harem...

Jesters? No, they're not funny. Made up like jesters, though. Sort of. Pretty ones.

Hmmm... Maybe they need it. Maybe they look like trolls without it. The thought makes me laugh. Well, guess what, whores? The little doll doesn't. And guess what else? He wastes nothing. Check and mate!

I turn off the water and bring the soft towel to my still-smiling face, and my eyes meet his in the mirror. I jump, startled again, and then he's behind me. He turns me to face him and takes the towel from my hand, gently dabbing my dripping face.

"Sorry. I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, but whatever it is, I'm glad something can make you smile."

"You," I beam at him.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. And your generosity."

"I think I'll leave that alone, for now. But this," he drops the towel on the counter top and cups my face in his hands, "is much better. You're so beautiful."

"Thank you. And I'm sorry."

"No, Claire. I'm sorry. You needed me. You were afraid, and all I did was scream at you and storm out. I shouldn't have done that. I'm very sorry."

"I knew you'd be back. At least to yell at me again. But you don't have to. I shouldn't have read it. I should have given it to you without looking at it. You want me to feel safe, and you do everything you can to do that for me. I shouldn't have let him take that away, even for a second. That wasn't fair to you. I am sorry. I don't want to make it harder for you. I promise I understand now."

"What can I do to take your fear away, sweetheart? I know you're trying to put on a brave face for me, but it's there. I see it."

"Face... he wants to mutilate my face... "

"Claire... "

"That's what he meant. You know that, don't you? As much as he couldn't help but want me, my face was the only thing about me that he ever thought was beautiful. He said I was sweet sometimes, but most of the time he just said I was wicked and spoiled and selfish and that I used my beautiful face to get away with all of the rest of me that was ugly. Now he wants to ruin it. He wants to take away the only part of me he thinks is beautiful so you won't want me anymore. He knows it's different with you. He knows I'm capable of feeling pain now. He wants to hurt me... "

"Listen to me. He's not going to hurt you. Please put that out of your mind. I won't let him. Not your beautiful face. Not any beautiful part of you. And, Claire, that's everything. There's nothing about you that's ugly. He shouldn't have said those things to you. He wanted your heart. I don't have to ask you to know that you didn't give it to him. That hurt him. He tried to hurt you back with childish words. Words he clearly didn't mean, because he didn't go anywhere. He didn't leave you. Whatever you were, he wanted you. He took whatever you were willing to give him until you wouldn't anymore. Until you left.

I don't need to know why you left him, I don't care. You didn't belong there. You belong here. And you're right... I'll never let you leave. I'll never let go, but I promise you, I will learn how to hold on to you gently. And I will always want you. He can't change that. He does know it's different. He knows you gave me something you never gave him. He knows I have your heart. He knows I have all of you. He knows you've given me everything. What he doesn't know is that I'll do anything to keep it. I'll do anything to keep it safe. I'll do anything to keep it beautiful. And not just your face, sweetheart. He thinks that's the most beautiful part of you because he's never seen your love. He's never felt it.

I have. And it's the most beautiful thing about you. It's sweet and selfless and you give it to me with so much trust... I will protect it. I will protect you, Claire, with everything I am, everything I have, for the rest of my life."

"Our life, Mr. Guillory. I'm going to start insisting that you carry your notebook with you. And I know you will. I'm not afraid. You took it away."

"Good," he says softly, tilting my face up and brushing his lips against mine, "and I am shamefully corrected. Our life, indeed." His kiss becomes more purposeful, his lips dominant and possessive between his words, "Now... as for my notes... which I will update when we get home... is there any one in particular that you'd like me to refer to?"

His thumbs and fingertips trail lightly up and down my neck and throat as his mouth makes promise after promise of a beautiful, yet chaotic life.

"They're all important," I murmur, pulling back to look into his eyes. If I had the courage, I'd tell him. I'd tell him exactly the one I want most, but I'm not brave enough. Not right now. Instead, I give him a devious smile. "That door looks pretty sturdy."

"So says your naughty little mouth. Your eyes gave me a different answer."

Of course they did. I look down, focusing on the buttons of his shirt, suddenly too shy to look at him. Promises of love, promises of forever, promises of never leaving and never letting go... they're all real and beautiful and meant wholeheartedly... I don't have the right to want more. It's only been... It's irrational. He makes me want things I've never wanted, things I've never thought about. Desperate for them.

"Look at me."

I can't. I shake my head.

"Are you afraid of what you'll see?"

I nod this time.

"Are you so afraid that you're willing to risk my pretty little ass by continuing not to answer me?"

I pout, but nod again.

"I see. What if I told you that I was ready to give you what your mouth asked for, but I won't unless you look at me?"

Hello? My eyes fly to his and he chuckles arrogantly. No, not chuckles... that doesn't even come close. He is laughing. Hard. It's cruel, really.

"You, my beautiful girl, are shameless."

"You're mean."

"But you love me."

"I'd love you more if you rattled that door."

"If you lived through it," he smirks.

"I'm not as breakable as you think I am, but by all means, you arrogant bastard, please try to kill me. Please."

"So brave... "

"Yes, Sir."

He grabs my face so quickly, and so fiercely that I fall off balance and have to grab his arms to steady myself. His eyes bore into mine and I couldn't look away if I wanted to, which I absolutely do not.

"You should never be afraid to look at me, Claire. My eyes will never deny you. Nothing you could ever see in them could hurt you. You're afraid of the only part of me that I know can't. I wanted you to look at me because I wanted you to see. I wanted you to see how happy the want in your eyes made me. I promise you I'll never ask you to look at something that will break your heart. You can't want too much from me, because there's nothing you can't have. I want to give you everything. I will give you everything. I was just waiting for you to want it. I saw, sweetheart."

I robbed myself of seeing it, but he gives it to me now. He doesn't punish me. He doesn't hold back. He gives and gives and doesn't stop until I understand.

This is what Caressa meant.

Don't forget to listen. 

If I had listened last night, if I had listened a few moments ago, so many times...

Moment after moment floods my mind.

Misunderstandings.

Hurt feelings.

Irrational tears and fears.

All because I didn't listen.

"What are you thinking? Why do you look sad?"

"How patient you really are... I never realized... but you are. How did I not see it? You... I'm a complete brat... I am positively a pain in the ass and I can't fathom how or why you put up with me."

He laughs and strokes his thumbs across my cheeks. "You're adorable."

"Jaimin, I'm serious."

"So am I."

"I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I give you stress."

"You give me joy."

"I'm stubborn."

"It amuses me. And you always listen eventually."

"I do?"

"Yes, you do."

"Does that make you happy?"

"Yes."

"Would it make you happier if I listened to you with less encouragement?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I can do that."

He raises a brow, "You can?"

"Yes."

"What's the catch?"

"No catch," I say sweetly, "I just want to show my appreciation for all of your patience."

"Is that so?"

"Yes."

"I can think of another way you could show me your appreciation."

"Name it."

"Come with me."

He flips the light switch and takes my hand, leading me back into his office. He walks to the plush leather couch and sits down, a playful grin on his face. "Come down here."

Yes, Sir! I drop to my knees between his legs and his mouth drops open. I rub my hands slowly up his legs and just as I get to his belt he grabs them. "I meant down here on the couch."

"You did?" I ask innocently.

"Yes, I did. Now, get up here."

"I'm really quite comfortable down here. You should let go of my hands so I can make you comfortable. And show my appreciation."

"You're killing me."

"I promise it won't hurt."

"I won't be able to make that same promise if you don't GET UP HERE."

I pout at him sadly and he narrows his eyes at me.

"NOW."

I get up to sit next to him, but he pulls me into his lap. "I thought you were going to listen?"

"I got confused... Your eyes were giving me a different answer than your mouth. You always say I should trust what I see there... "

"I'm not above temptation, Claire. I'm only human. I'd appreciate it greatly if you didn't try to break what little will I have left."

"Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad. A little frustrated is all."

"So let me take it away."

"That's not what I meant, not that it isn't true. And NO."

"Okay. I don't want to frustrate you. But I don't understand the rules."

"What don't you understand?"

"Why you get to indulge and I don't?"

"They're my rules."

"Break them."

"No."

"Stubborn. So, what did you want?"

"Your mouth has been very sweet today. Mostly. I wanted to feel it."

"But... "

He puts his finger to my lips to silence me and then taps his own.

He wants sweet.

"That's all?"

He nods and smiles at me.

Okay. I can be sweet.

I cup his face gently in my hands and begin to trail tender kisses over his features, my eyes never leaving his. He sighs contentedly and his hands move to thread through my hair. He doesn't pull or try to control my movements in any way, just holds my head in his hands as I try to give him what he wanted. I brush my lips lightly against his and he smiles, his eyes blazing with love. His breathing picks up pace through his slightly parted lips and tickles my face. I lower my eyes and flutter my lashes across his soft lips and his breath catches, making me smile.

"Do that again," he whispers.

I repeat the gentle flutter and his breath catches again. His eyes are closed when I look up at him. Such a simple thing... an innocent and playful thing... I'm awed that it has such an effect on my pillar of strength. His hands begin to move slowly through my hair, and with the slightest pressure, guides my mouth to his. He doesn't do anything else, his lips don't move against mine. He waits. He wants me to give it to him. I nip gently at his mouth with my lips and he moans softly.

The intimacy of this moment is overwhelming. His surrender of control. His vulnerable and pure need for sweetness. Gentle affection. Simple adoration and tenderness from the one who loves him. The sacrifice of his own wants and desires. The will it must truly take to keep them under control. I wish I understood why he needs to. The reasons he gave before no longer valid against what we are to each other now. I just don't understand. What is he afraid of? Why does he hold himself back from what I know he wants? The want I can feel beneath me. That he's not hiding from me.

He's trusting me.

And looking at me. "Your mind is elsewhere."

"No. It's here. And I promise you it's on you," I murmur softly, stroking my fingertips over his face. "Can we freeze time? Just make it stop? Make everything go away and leave us alone? Just for a little while?"

He smiles at me and as if in answer to my impossible request, just at that moment the phone on his desk rings with a resounding no.

I start to climb off of him and he pulls me back in place. "Not until I've had my kiss."

I take his face in my hands once again and lower my mouth to his. Slowly, tenderly, sweetly, our lips seem to melt together and for this moment, at least, the world that exists beyond us simply disappears. I no longer hear the shrill ringing of the phone. I listen, but the only sound is of the gentle beating of hearts that have found their peace.