Learning How to Bend

NaNo Day 11 - Will I write more today?

The dog sat down in front of him with a soft thud, and her tail patted against the hardwood floor as she wiggled it back and forth excitedly.  She knew better than to jump, though, as that had been trained out of her from a very early age.  That did not mean, however, that she did not enjoy seeing people.  Particularly old friends, and especially when she was not "on the job."  I gave her freedom within my apartment.  She gave a soft whine as Thaddeus had yet to acknowledge her.

"If you don't pet her, she's just going to keep sitting there, staring at you," I said. "And trust me, she can sit for a long time." I had not stood up after hugging Chelise, so I took off my shoes and left them by the chair before going into the kitchen. "Can I get you anything?"

"No," Thaddeus said while scratching Chelise's head.  Satisfied, the dog wandered away from him and curled up on her own bed on the left side of the door.  The sofa made a whooshing sound as Thaddeus sat down. "This place smells like a hospital, besides the flowery air freshener."

"Thank you...I think?" I pulled a water bottle from the fridge just so I did not feel like a complete idiot for going into the kitchen for no reason.  Hesitantly, I sat by him on the couch, leaving the unopened bottle on the coffee table. I was close to him, where I could touch his leg with my hand if I wanted, but not close enough where any parts of our bodies would touch otherwise. "I keep it as clean as I can for multiple reasons.  The biggest one being the fact that if I had shoes or clothes scattered everywhere, I might trip over them and break something."

He remained silent.  I had no idea what he was thinking, but the soundlessness made me anxious and tense.  His presence was unsettling; Thaddeus seemed to fill the room with an air of nonchalant judgment.  I had no doubt he was used to places far more sophisticated, but that hardly mattered to me.  This was my home.  But...that did not mean I was unworried about what he thought.  What was going through his head?  Did he think my apartment was small?  Did he like—or dislike—how it was sparsely decorated?  Did the furniture smell?  He had already said it smelled too sterile; was there anything else he did not like?

"Well, no, I might break myself or break the object," I said something random to fill the space. "I don't use echolocation here.  I've got the locations of everything basically memorized.  I never move the furniture.  Always put food away in the same place.  The only time I really need to use it is when I'm cooking or stepping in and out of the shower.  Sometimes doing laundry, too.  Or occasionally in the extra room, which has some workout equipment."

He did not say anything for a brief time, which sent my heart beating even faster in my chest.  I should not have invited him to stay.  He did not like it here.  I should just tell him he could leave.  This was a terrible mistake.  I was about to open my mouth to say that, but I heard him shift on the sofa.  All movement for him was carefully calculated, but that...was not.  I thought he was going to move off the furniture, but he stayed where he was, except the tension which I suspected was in his shoulders.  My own discomfort suddenly mattered little, and I touched his arm with a trembling hand.  He immediately tensed, but I did not move my hand.  Instead, I tightened my touch into a tender hold around the muscle under the sleeve of his shirt.

"Hey," I said.  My voice was gentle, barely above a whisper as I used my free hand to brush some hair out of my eyes. "What's on your mind?"

"You said 'reasons.'  Which means there are more than one."

My breath caught, and my heart jumped into throat.  In one swift movement, I shifted my hand from his arm to my lap, clasping my hands together and squeezing them between my legs.  I cleaned because there were days when I did not feel clean.  Nights when my nightmares were too bad, and I needed to distract myself with something.  And that something was often cleaning because it helped me to feel better.  Cleaning the physical seemed to help clean the mental, to a certain extent.  I kept everything immaculate because I knew I was anything but.  I wanted the nightmares to go away.  Ever since I had started spending time with Thaddeus on a more consistent basis, the nightmares about Marcus had returned.  Combined with the...other ones, I barely was able to sleep now.