Beneath the Ink (COMPLETE)

Aftermath

Cecelia May

I pushed my face into the pillow, crying.

I felt so fucking bad.

I made him- my god.

I hugged the pillow to my face, unable to quiet the sobs.

I felt so bad.

I don't know how long I'd been up but I knew I fucked up.

My head pulsated when I couldn't catch my breath.

There was so much pressure on my skull, my eyes.

I tried telling myself it was fine but I couldn't apologize looking like this. He cared to much to even let me speak if I looked like I cried.

I groaned, clutching the pillow angrily in my fists.

I made him touch people and talk. Talk so fucking much. I worried him. I remembered nothing after the gas station.

I barely remembered that in itself.

I woke up in his room. In his bed.

I knew that I was in a crowd, then I wasn't.

And there's only one person who could've gotten me out.

There's only one person who could've got Amber home.

There's only one person I would've called.

I was nauseous and my head was pounding.

I needed air, I was sweating.

I couldn't stand. I was so dizzy.

I couldn't stop fucking crying. I felt so bad.

I stood, slowly making my way to his bathroom, putting cold water on my face.

I tried to keep myself composed but my eyes were swollen, my face red, I looked like I sobbed. Or fell on my face.

The light hurt my eyes.

I couldn't believe myself.

I hope he's okay. He has to be okay.

I took some breaths, hearing music from the basement.

I walked downstairs, then into the basement, pulling the hood over my head, clearing my throat.

He looked in the mirror, dropping his weights.

"I'm sorry." I said, my voice coming out better than I thought.

He turned, looking at me.

"I-I made you uncomfortable. I don't know exactly everything, but I know you got me. I know you had to get her home somehow. I made you come for me. I'm so sorry." I whispered.

He walked over, pulling the hood off my head, tipping my chin up.

"Again." He whispered.

"I'm sorry. I fucked up. I don't drink. I know my limits, I didn't play within it. I made you chase me in a crowd of people. I'm so sorry Rhodes." I felt a lump reforming in my throat.

He leaned down, kissing me.

I froze, unsure of the reasoning behind the gesture.

It was a small peck, but it was something.

He pulled back, holding my face, wiping my tears.

I felt my lip tremble and I shut my eyes, my stomach a bundle of nerves.

I picked at my hands, the cuticles, the nails I sought uneven.

"I'd do it a-again. A th-thousand times, Ce-Cecelia." He said.

"No. No it's not right. I did wrong-" he leaned down, kissing me again, grabbing the openings of the hoodie pocket, pulling me closer.

I cried, pulling back, not wanting tears to touch him.

He frowned.

He wiped the tear, putting the pad of his thumb on his tongue, tasting it. He took a deep breath.

"It's you." He whispered, "I'm f-fine."

I wrapped my arms around him, crying, still feeling so bad.

He moved my arms so they were around his neck, lifting me.

My legs wrapped around his bare waist.

He brought me upstairs after turning the music off.

He sat me down on the cold island.

"Listen." He said and I nodded, wiping my eyes.

"I-I can't al-always be sc-scared. I hated it. Ab-absolutely I d-did. I-I hurt ta-talking. I-I can't t-touch pe-people. I did wh-what I had to. I-I took ca-care of you. I-I'm heal-healing. I-I'm fine. I sh-showered it o-off, k-kissed you-you goodn-night, I slept g-good." He grabbed my chin, forcing my head up.

"I did it." He raised his eyebrows.

I nodded.

"I'm proud of you. I appreciate you very much." I whispered.

He kissed my forehead.

I sighed.

"St-stop feeling b-bad. B-but no more. No mo-more of her." He said sternly.

"No more." I shook my head.

"Good girl, t-thank you." He kissed my cheek, where a tear fell.

Every time he did something he didn't prefer it made my heart skip a beat.

"I-I'm gonna sho-sho-" he cleared his throat, his voice sounding so dry.

"Shower, I'll wait here." I nodded.

He touched my jaw lightly, nodding as he went upstairs.