I can’t believe this shit.
My head is throbbing as I clutch it between my palms in an attempt to shut down the persistent badgering. The constant pounding in my skull won’t fucking quit.
I can’t concentrate, definitely can’t sleep, and I’m stressed as fuck that the voices are going to start back up.
Since I’m a fucking wimp, I’m currently holed up in the shed in order to keep a bit of distance between us. These commanding urges are persuading me back to the house but I stamp them down with the last of my control. Practically every piece of me believes hiding out here is a horrible idea and my mind is quickly losing the battle.
I’m trying to stay fucking strong but the pull is powerful.
When Willow and I got back after our time in the woods, I wasn’t sure what to do. Thankfully I didn’t have to panic for long. She provided me with an escape by taking a shower. I used the lull to gather my tattered thoughts. Then the water blasted on and I began picturing Willow getting naked. It was too fucking close to my fantasy the other day.
My entire body was locked up tight. I was tense, agitated, and sweating as the chaos from our evening continued spinning. I hated being out of control. Spending the night separated from her would be best for both of us.
I waited in the kitchen until Willow was out of the bathroom. As soon as she emerged, I stammered out my plan and practically sprinted out of the house. I didn’t miss pinch of her eyebrows and the frown marring her gorgeous face but I couldn’t handle exposing more of my demented shit than I already had.
The hallucinations and nightmares are the worst. I usually wake up worn the fuck out, so I probably thrash around like mad. I never want to know what that insanity looks like to a spectator.
Now it’s the middle of the fucking night and I’ve been lying here wide-awake for hours.
Obsessing.
Panicking.
Conflicted.
Overreacting.
Tormented.
Irritated.
Freaking the fuck out.
I’m shocked the darkness hasn’t come for me yet but I figure it’s only a matter of time. The more drained and exhausted I am, the easier it is for the haunting shit to take over. I’m trying like hell to refuse my incessant infatuation with Willow.
She is going to leave me, just like everyone else, which is what I deserve. I’m destined to be alone but I want to give in and feel her warmth. Even for a little while.
I’m weak and pathetic.
I’m not capable of staying away. It goes against every instinct inside me. I’m fucking cursed and Willow is determined to screw up my resistance. I desperately crave the calm Willow injects into my system. I predicted this unhealthy attachment after she touched me yesterday. She is slowly, but very surely, dismantling all the protective defenses I’ve sufficiently been using.
In addition to the driving need to be near her, I have an irrational fear that something terrible will happen to Willow. Since I’ve been lowering my guard and letting her see my truth, I can’t stop the hounding feeling nipping at my heels that she will get taken away from me. I’m going out of my mind compiling the potential threats that could harm her. I won’t be able to rest until I know she’s fine.
As I make my way across the frozen yard, I’m negotiating terms with this madness.
If she actually fucking listened to me and locked the door, I’ll take it as a sign that she wants to keep the danger out. Including me. I can’t get a handle on my nerves as I march up the porch steps. When I reach the door, a lungful of air escapes me as I take a moment to hope the knob turns. My trembling hand makes me realize how desperate I am to get inside. When my palm is able to twist the cool metal, I’m so fucking relieved I almost forget to snap the deadbolt behind me.
It’s difficult to see across the small space but I know my way around. With a few long strides, I am looming over Willow’s sleeping form.
Her legs are twisted together like a pretzel, while her left arm appears bent at an awkward angle. Willow’s face is partially hidden by a pillow but I can tell she’s breathing normally. I wonder how she can be comfortable that way.
My racing heart settles knowing Willow is safe.
Now what the fuck am I going to do?
I stand around like a moron as I contemplate my options. There’s no way I can go back to the shed. I don’t trust myself to lay next to Willow so I take a seat on the floor near the bed.
My head is resting against the edge of the mattress and my mind easily drifts. Just as I’m starting to doze off, I get the most exquisite sensation and goosebumps cover my flesh as Willow’s thigh rubs against my head.
“Why don’t you lay down with me?” Willow’s voice is groggy and sexy as fuck. I want to drag my tongue along her throat to feel the vibrations when she speaks.
Instead I grunt, “I have my reasons.”
“I wish you’d tell me, Xander. I’ve always been here for you. We just got interrupted for a while.”
I make another noncommittal noise. Interrupted? More like blown to unrecognizable pieces because of my stupid mouth.
Her fingers resume their ministrations and I hum in approval. Tingling sparks erupt on every surface of my body. My fingers twitch with the desire to return the favor. It feels so good that I almost fall asleep again.
I could definitely get used to this.
The errant thought shocks my system and I’m instantly alert. I can’t get comfortable with what I’m sure is a temporary situation. Willow is going to leave and take any progress I’ve made with her. With that simple thought, my entire being is drowning in sorrow and air gets trapped in my clogged throat. Startling chills shoot up my spine as my veins fill with ice. Willow has become my fucking lifeline and I can’t exist without her. Maybe I can persuade her to stay. I try to use that appealing approach to calm the fuck down. At least she’s here for now.
As if hearing my silent struggle, Willow whispers out a quiet, “Xander?”
“Yeah?” My tone is hushed too.
“Will you tell me a story from the time you were gone? It doesn’t have to be anything significant. Anything you want to share. Maybe from a day that wasn’t so bad, if one even exists.” With her words, my mood plummets again.
I hate fucking thinking about that time in my life. Usually I hyperventilate. A good memory from that shit hole? Not likely. I don’t want to let her down but fuck.
After digesting her request a little more, a blip of something not totally rancid registers. I could tell her about the first camp I was stationed at before shipping out to the desert. That’s where I met Corporal Jones and we ended up getting along pretty well. At least for the short time I was held at that temporary holding point.
I’m not sure what happened to Jones since he stayed back when we all left. We didn’t have the close bond I shared with my fellow squad mates, but I would consider him a friend.
“All right, maybe this will be decent. When I first arrived in Europe, we stayed at a base in Germany. That’s a typical landing spot to gather before heading off to the next location. There was this soldier I bunked near that ended up being really funny. Corporal Jones was on his second tour and had all kinds of advice to give a newbie like me.” I took a deep breath and decided which hilarious thing to share with Willow.
If I were still the same man I was then, I would be busting a gut recalling all the goofy crap Jones spewed. Even with the gains I’ve recently made, the corners of my lips hardly twitch.
“One night, Jones was filling us in on a mission he carried out when he first enlisted. He was out in the middle of fucking no man’s land with his entire unit for this covert operation. They had to hide out for several days at a time without returning to the command post for supplies. In those situations, soldiers can get desperate and extremely creative.
“On this specific excursion, their troop was attacked and under fire from the enemy forces. No one was injured but Jones shit his pants, which he never lived down. He had to strip down behind a boulder to remove his soiled briefs. Fatigues are rough and easily chafe sensitive skin so going without a layer between is dicey. What choice did he have though? From that point on, Jones wore an extra set just in case. The moral of the story is you truly never know what the fuck is going to happen out there so be prepared for anything. Including unexpected bowel movements. His whole point was to bring an extra pair of clean underwear. Not about watching your back while you’re being shot or always be ready for an ambush, but rather make sure to have clean fucking underwear. When he told us that, I almost peed my fucking shorts. Damn, that guy was a riot.”
It seems like I rambled on for hours even though I know it has only been a few minutes. Willow’s hand in my hair stilled and I’m sure the sandman caught her. She probably didn’t hear most of that but it wasn’t horrible reminiscing about that moment. It actually felt pretty good. Maybe Willow is onto something.
When she suddenly breaks the eerie quiet, I almost jump out of my fucking skin.
“Thank you for that. Jones sounds like a funny dude.” She sounds half asleep but I guess she stuck with me until the end.
I lay my head back down against the bed and close my tired eyes. There aren’t any voices screaming in my ears or gruesome images dancing in my vision. A calming balm seeps into my skin as a sense of peace washes over me.
Maybe I can survive this shit after all.