Chapter Nine

 

Finnley

 

Aven was asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. His arms locked around me so tight it was almost as though he feared I might escape. As realization of the coming night came to the surface of my sex-sated mind, that was precisely what I wanted to do.

I scanned his dark bedroom, wide-eyed, with my heart already accelerating as his soft snores filled the void. When was the last time I’d laid in a bed with the intent to sleep? College maybe? High school? The mere thought of putting my body in a bed had always been enough to perpetuate a panic attack. There was no way I could remain there all night.

Despite the numerous orgasms that had made my limbs jelly, I was alert and nowhere near prepared to tackle the inevitable. I’d managed to pass out that afternoon and slept for at least four hours before my alarm woke me. I was glad I’d had the forethought to set a reminder, so I wouldn’t be late for dinner.

If I could squirm out from Aven’s hold, maybe he wouldn’t notice if I disappeared into the living room for a couple of hours to watch TV. When I attempted to move, his grip firmed, and he dragged me closer, nuzzling into my neck and sighing contentedly.

Or, maybe I could simply force myself to lie awake beside him for the next six to eight hours. How long did he usually sleep for?

Trapped with no way out, I turned my thoughts to our night together. My ass was pleasantly sore, and I pressed back against Aven to remind myself of the ache. It’d been far too long since I’d experienced anything even close to what we’d shared. On closer inspection, I didn’t think I’d ever had a man treat me so well. Maybe I was a romantic, but Aven sure knew how to play the part of the doting lover.

I drifted to thoughts of our dates. Ice skating downtown. Fancy dinner at a nice restaurant. Each phone conversation and text message had been building to this exact evening, and butterflies cumulated in my stomach as I re-lived it all.

As the night deepened, my body became too comfortable in Aven’s cozy bed. A haze of unwanted sleep seeped through the edges, and I found it harder and harder to focus my thoughts. With the encroaching weight of slumber, I became fidgety as I tried to force more alertness and shoo away the darkness without letting it get to me. Aven mumbled something and rolled over, loosing himself from my side. Before I could take the chance to escape, he pulled my arm so we faced the other way, and I was the big spoon.

I was less stuck than before, but no less attached to my lover since he’d laced our fingers, successfully locking us together again. Any other person might revel in the fact that they’d found someone so keen on snuggling, but I couldn’t help feeling trapped.

The readjustment had rattled my mind awake, so I busied my brain with endless random thoughts, avoiding things like work or anything related which only tended to escalate my anxiety.

Aven’s unique and manly scent slinked through every part of me and calmed my soul to a point I forgot to fight. Without knowing when it happened, the world slipped away, and sleep found me. Because of my incessant willpower—even while under the heinous spell of sleep—my mind fought its inescapable hold and won.

My entire body jerked awake with the sudden realization of what was happening, and I gasped fruitlessly for air that wouldn’t find my lungs. When panic attacks found me, normally there was a warning. Sometimes, I could bring myself back from that edge before it consumed me. Other times, like that moment, I found myself drowning in a sea of anxiety without a life preserver in sight.

When I was flung to the surface of consciousness, my body was already shaking with violent tremors. A thick coating of sweat covered my skin and trickled down my temples. My blood pulsed angrily in my ears. Every effort to suck in air was denied, and I fell from the bed in a desperate need to flee.

I was vaguely aware of Aven scrambling from the bed as well, and when he caught my arm as I tried to rise from the floor, everything escalated.

The world spun and blurred at the edges of my vision as I fell over myself and crawled from his bedroom into the hallway. The idea that I was so close to passing out scared me even more. Abandoning my attempt to get up, I planted my back against a solid surface and held my head, desperately trying to find my center so I could breathe again.

I knew to count, but I couldn’t get past one. All soothing songs were buried in the chaos, and I gasped and clawed at my neck as tears formed.

From somewhere in the pandemonium of my mind, a voice broke through. It was counting for me. Urging me to breathe. One…two…work with me, it said. I couldn’t place it but clung to its sweet calming tone, hoping it could pull me free. Stay with me…One…Two…

My chest heaved, and lungs burned, starving for substance. Somehow, I managed to find a rhythm, a staccato of sharply drawn gasps that matched the tempo of the soothing voice. As the desperation lessened, I found an awareness of hands covering my cheeks on both sides. The man whose gentle essence had found its way into my destruction was Aven, and his mirrored breathing and counting matched my own.

“That’s it. Keep breathing like that. One…” A gentle inhale followed by a ghosting impression on my chin which I copied. “And another.”

Out of habit, once I could manage to organize my breathing without effort or thought, I dropped my forehead to his and sang. The idea that it was foolish, or that I was doing it out loud never occurred to me. I just needed the peace it brought. It was my greatest source of stability. It worked when nothing else did.

When the need to count for me became unnecessary, Aven pulled me into his arms. There was a blanket around me. Where did that come from? He held me close to his chest for what could have been hours; all sense of time had been ripped away.

I sang, mumbling an endless loop of the Friends theme song until my heart finally stopped racing. Only then was I quiet again.

It was longer before Aven spoke. He pulled me up from his chest and cradled my head in his warm palms again. “Jesus, Finn, you scared the shit out of me. Are you okay?”

I nodded and tried to dislodge from his grasp. Imminent tears pooled in my eyes, and I felt so stupid and ashamed. He couldn’t see me like this. He was going to want to know why, and how did I admit something so childish and embarrassing? How did I explain that this was why I didn’t want to spend the night? This was why I’d shied away from relationships for so long.

“Woah, woah, come here.”

I shoved him away and tried to stand. The world was unsteady, and I wobbled, smacking my shoulder into the hard wall. Aven didn’t let me go far. He caught my arm and guided me toward his bedroom. My spine stiffened, and instantly my heart started racing. When I gasped, he stopped mid-step and glanced back.

Whatever he saw, whatever realization might have surfaced, he didn’t say anything. Leaving me in the hallway, he went in his room and found us our underwear. Once he’d helped me put them on, he steered me into the kitchen and sat me at the table. He filled the kettle and set it on the stove to warm.

“Do you drink tea?”

Not normally. I stuck to higher caffeinated drinks mostly, but I didn’t think I should say that. “Sure.”

Aven worked quietly at the counter putting together some tea while I stewed at the table. I got the feeling he was giving me a few minutes of space to get myself in order, but I knew the questions were coming.

When the kettle boiled, he filled the mugs and brought them to the table along with a bowl of sugar and some milk.

“Is this okay or do you use honey and lemon maybe?”

“This is fine. Thank you.”

Aven dressed his tea with milk and wrapped his hands around the ceramic mug without sipping it. His gaze bore into the top of my head, but I couldn’t find the strength to meet his eyes just yet. My avoidance got me nowhere.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

If I said no, would he drop it? Not likely.

I took a steadying breath and glanced around his kitchen. Only the light above the stove was on which didn’t offer much illumination. The sky was dark beyond the window, and I wondered what time it was. Glancing at the clock on the microwave, I cringed. It was ten to three in the morning.

“I umm…” Shame washed over me again, and I couldn’t look at him no matter how hard I tried. “I suffer from panic attacks sometimes.” All the time. I bit off any more explanation and let that hang in the air.

“That was a pretty intense panic attack.”

“They aren’t always that bad.”

A long expanse of silence followed. When Aven didn’t get more, he asked the one thing I wished he wouldn’t.

“What causes them?”

I bit the inside of my cheek and stared intently into my tea, wishing I could disappear. If I wanted to keep going in this relationship with Aven, I knew he would eventually have to know the truth. I just didn’t think I was ready to share. Before I knew it, a fat, wet tear rolled down my cheek and fell to the table.

“Shit!” I swiped away more and pushed my chair back. I needed to go.

“Finn, wait, stop.” He caught my shoulder and spun me to him. “Don’t run.”

I shoved him away and aimed down the hall to his room where I knew my bag was along with the rest of my clothes. He was on my heels, and before I was two feet inside the room, he halted me and held me to a wall, encasing me so I couldn’t get away.

“Finn, talk to me. I just want to understand. We were both fast asleep, and suddenly you were flying from the bed in a raging panic. Was it a nightmare? What happened? Baby, talk to me.” The pads of his thumbs wiped more tears from my eyes, and he kept my head in place when I tried to look away. “I will not think less of you. Believe me.”

I shook my head frantically. “I wasn’t asleep. You were asleep, but not me. Not me, I wasn’t.”

My chest ached with the need to lay it all out there. For once, I wanted to confide in someone and let them into my messed-up head, so they could shoulder my burden for one minute, so I didn’t have to. Aven was so perfect. He was exactly everything I’d ever wanted in a partner, but would he really curb his judgment? Was I about to ruin all we had?

My tears were unstoppable, and Aven pulled me to his chest where I buried my face in his neck and cried. Shame consumed me because I was showing such weakness, and he didn’t even know the half of it.

“Shh, tell me what happened. How come you weren’t sleeping? Is something wrong?”

I couldn’t force the words past my lips. They lodged in my throat and choked me. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. I’m afraid. A sob was all that broke free, and Aven soothed my troubled soul with soft words and gentle touches.

“It’s okay. I’m here.”

I was a pathetic loser, bawling in the arms of the man I’d spent all evening being intimate with. Yet, I was so tired of hiding. So tired of pretending every day that nothing was wrong. I’d lied to everyone, and I could hear them laughing inside my head, mocking me and my secret.

I clung to Aven, clung to the hope that he wouldn’t think me ridiculous as I sniffled on his shoulder and tried to pull my shit together.

“I’m… I’m afraid.” The way my voice wisped out of me and disappeared into the quiet room, I wasn’t sure he heard me.

“What are you afraid of?” He stroked my hair back and planted a kiss on my temple.

Slumped in his arms, I gave in to defeat. “Sleeping.”

The single word hung in the air. Every staggered breath I took after my admission hurt. Any minute, Aven would pull from my arms with a look on his face that said Are you kidding? And I would look him in the eye and tell him how not a single day had passed in my adult life where the setting sun hadn’t weighed a million tons.

His fingers continued to brush my hair aside. He nuzzled against my skin by my ear. The quiet deepened. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I pulled from his arms and chanced looking him in the eye. There was no mockery, no humor, no disbelief, and no skepticism. Worry lines creased his brow, and sadness tugged his lips into a frown.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?”

His thumb wiped a stray tear, and he leaned in and pecked my lips. “Because I know you aren’t finished explaining. You’re waiting for a reaction, and by the fret on your face, you’re waiting for a negative reaction. Talk to me, baby. Get it off your chest.”

I removed his hand from my face and stared at the floor between us. “Please don’t call me that.”

“What? Baby? You don’t like it?”

“I already feel like a stupid child most days, it just emphasizes that I’m not grown up or brave enough to be a man.”

“That’s not how I meant it. I feel really close to you, Finn. It’s a term of endearment that just rolled off my tongue. I won’t use it, I’m sorry.”

When I remained silent, he took my hand and laced our fingers together. I could tell he wanted more contact but was unsure how I’d react. I reached out and twined our other hand together as well before I laid myself at his feet and hoped for the best.

“I’m terrified of sleeping. Ever since I was a child, the thought of falling asleep gave me panic attacks. It was never anywhere near like this when I was younger. Instead of getting better as I grew up, it got worse.”

I took a deep breath and shook my head. It sounded so lame, and yet the feeling inside was so complex.

“Do you have nightmares? Is that why you’re afraid.”

That would have been the simplest answer. But it wasn’t the case.

“No. I…”

I dropped his hands and covered my face. Turning to the wall, I planted my forehead against its cool surface. Aven aligned his body against my back and wrapped his arms snug around me. With his face next to my ear, I could feel his even breaths and envied his calmness. He didn’t urge me to continue, but I knew I needed to.

My pulse throbbed faster and with more force as I considered what I needed to voice. I shivered against Aven, not from cold, but nerves and fear. He held me tighter.

“I’m afraid…” My teeth chattered. “I’m afraid I’m going to die in my sleep. Like the minute I’m unconscious, I’ll slip away, and it will all be over.”

I didn’t even know my breathing had become erratic again until Aven whispered in my ear. “Shh, breathe with me.”

He inhaled deeply. His chest rose against my back before he exhaled, long and slow. Again in. Then out. I copied him and closed my eyes. The mumbled lyrics to Friends rolled off my tongue again as I worked to center myself. Aven said nothing more, only continued deep breathing exercises while he kept me secured in his arms.

When my trembling calmed, his words drifted to my ears. “Does that help? Singing?”

My cheeks flushed, and I was glad he couldn’t see my face. “Yeah. It takes my mind off everything else. It’s stupid, I know.”

“It’s not.” Aven rocked me in his arms for a long while before turning me to face him. “Come lie down and talk to me.” He tugged my hand, trying to guide me to the bed, but I planted my feet.

“Can we go to the living room or something?”

He studied my face a moment before nodding, somehow understanding my plight. He grabbed a blanket and pillow from the bed, and when I was about to protest, he halted me. “It’s cold out there. We’ll just cuddle up underneath.”

I reluctantly followed him to the living room and shimmied into the corner of the couch, intent on not getting comfortable. Aven wouldn’t have it. He pulled me to his chest and wrapped the blanket around us.

“When did this all begin?” he asked once I’d settled.

I sighed. “I’m not sure I remember exactly. It feels like it’s just always been the case. I remember when I was a kid, my dad would tuck me in at night and go downstairs to keep working. It was after my mom died, so I’d be all alone. I’d lay in the dark and think about… stuff.”

“What stuff?” I squirmed, and Aven held me tighter. “You aren’t running away, so you might as well talk.”

“Death,” I said plainly, trying not to invoke too many emotions into my tone. “What would it be like to die? Would it hurt? Would I know? Then, I’d think about my mom and how my dad explained she was just having a big sleep and nothing hurt her anymore. So, I figured it probably wasn’t painful. Then, as I’d get tired, I’d remember that the big sleep my mom was having meant you never woke up again. From there, I’d get scared, because what if when I went to sleep, I didn’t wake up too?”

I wondered if Aven could feel my heart pounding just from my being crushed against him. His fingers stroked even patterns through my hair, but he didn’t say anything. He simply waited and listened.

“A few times, the panic was so overwhelming that I ran out of my room and into the hallway. I was young enough I still had feet in my pajamas. I’d go to the kitchen where my dad left the light on over the sink, and I’d pace, listening to the sticky way those rubber feet stuck to the floor.

“My heart would pound, and even though I was sweaty, I’d shiver. I didn’t know what was wrong, but it happened a lot. Every night, I would stay up as late as I could. When my dad came back upstairs, I’d race back to my room and listen to him moving about the house and getting ready for bed, but I wouldn’t sleep. Eventually, it happened anyway. I’d wake up on the floor a lot because I didn’t like being in my bed.”

I paused, considering what I’d shared as a swell of shame made me want to pull away from Aven again. “I thought I would grow out of it. It’s so childish and stupid, except…”

Except it was worse, not better. The panic attacks had become crippling and the meager few hours of rest I managed were barely enough to keep me functioning.

“It’s not childish. I think a lot of people fear death. The whole unknown and—”

“It’s more specific than that. It’s not just dying. It’s dying in my sleep. It’s the whole going to sleep thing that has me messed up.”

Aven went quiet rather than argue with me. It was bad enough to own up having a fear of sleeping but to clump it together and say I feared death too wasn’t fair. I was a funeral director. I worked beside death every day. I was immune to its effects, wasn’t I?

“Can I ask you something?” Aven’s voice stirred me from my thoughts, and I peered up to catch a glimpse of his chocolate eyes full of concern and… pity? Did he pity me?

“Sure.”

“How old were you when your mother died?”

“Eight. She had leukemia. Don’t go reading into that being some kind of trigger, it’s not. Lots of kids lose a parent when they’re little.”

“But not all people are the same.”

I didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Forcing my way from Aven’s embrace, I reached for the remote for the TV.

“Can we watch something? I don’t really want to talk about this anymore.”

He didn’t answer, and I turned back to see him studying me.

“Please don’t psychoanalyze me. I’m already embarrassed enough. If you want to go back to bed, that’s fine. I just need something to occupy my mind.”

He nicked his chin to the TV. “Find something and get back over here.” He opened the blanket, inviting me to lie back with him again.