I quickly shake my head, which he raises an eye brow to but doesn't question.
He straightens up, never removing his gaze from me before stepping closer, forcing me to step back. He takes another and again, I step away. Seth keeps approaching me, hi...
"Love is many things none of them logical." ― William Goldman, The Princess Bride
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Waking up that morning to the sun shining across the bed, the sheets tangled along with Seth and my own legs and him draped over me, felt surreal.
I still had nightmares, panic attacks and my anxiety still ruled me a lot of the time. And sometimes, I didn't quite believe that any of this was real. That I hadn't met Seth – he was some figment of my imagination that I had conjured due to the stress and the abuse, a sort of saving grace for sanity's sake, or I had completely lost it. That I was going to wake one morning in my bed in Billy's or on the floor in the basement, bloody and sore. That every time I checked my phone, I would see Faith's contact ID and picture smiling up at me. That I was fighting everyday to just survive, just long enough to escape, scraping past enough to get into college.
And every time, something would remind me that it had all happened. Be it a soft smile and gentle kiss from Seth, Jasper throwing his arm round me as he goofed around, the dog tags around my neck clinking together as I moved, or even sometimes, the pain I felt stabbing through my chest when I caught sight of my surgery scarring.
This morning, it was Seth groaning sleepily in my ear, his hot breath spreading over my shoulder as he pulled me in tightly against his chest and nuzzling his face into the top of my head. He was warm, always so warm. It still felt a little surreal. But now it was a better kind, like a nice dream that you fought to stay asleep just to continue it.
Yawning, I bury my head back into his bare chest, my eyes still feeling droopy. I was still tired but I knew we should probably start waking up. We needed to start getting some sort of normality back into our lives. Especially if I ever hoped to try to move along in my life.
And the first steps of that, was to get some answers.
"Seth?" I shook him gently, not wanting to startle him. But he stayed dead to the world.
"Seth?" I tried a little louder this time, shaking him a little more. Still nothing. Sighing, I try wriggling out of his grasp, only to end up back to chest when his grip tightens round me, and he turns, taking me with him – with a loud squeal – and curling his body round me, leg thrown over both mine and my head tucked under his chin. This time there was no escaping from his hold. Huffing, I try to wiggle about any way. After a few minutes, his arms tightened again, holding me in place.
"If you don't stop moving amore mio, then you're going to have another problem to deal with." He startled me with his husky voice, clearly just barley waking up. Then I flushed, body tensing as I realised with mortification what he meant. The way I was pressed up against him tightly, I could feel every inch of him against me. Including a large appendage that seemed to be pressing into my ass. All I could get out when I tried to apologise was a tiny squeak of horror, my entire being feeling hot with embarrassment. And maybe a small part something else.
