Sophia
"Fuck." The darkness speaks, a string of tumbling oaths that vibrate within a vast void of emptiness.
I shrink until I’m rolled like a hedgehog under a leaf. Until I’m invisible from the watchful eyes of the world. Cool, refreshing surfaces press against my ball like form. They’re nice.
I want to stay in the dark. It’s better here, safer, away from lies and hurt. Away from those who want things from me, things I’m not sure I can give.
I love the dark.
Water falls onto my face, pinging off the surface of my skin. Where has water come from in the dark? I don’t know, but it makes me sick again and my efforts at vomiting and spluttering under the current of water are met with another low, "Fuck."
I don’t care. Instead, I submit to the soothing void of nothing. Nothing is easier, safer, more supporting than anything else. I have no ambition to fight it.
I have no ambition. No ambition at all to do anything, be anything, to exist. The dark is perfect. It wants me as much as I want it and I’ll never have to worry again.
"Sophia?" The call is low and soft, a piercing break under the surface.
My god did I hate that name.
My hand swats at the name I don’t want. I no longer want to own anything, not even the call of my name. If I acknowledge it, I’ll have to be it. So I shake my head.
I don’t want to be Sophia anymore, wish I didn’t know who she was.
She’s a fake.
There. The darkness tells me who I am. A FAKE.
"Thank you." I tell the darkness. "Thank you."
Thank you for telling me what I am. For confirming what I’ve always known.
The water comes faster, harder, pouring into my mouth and the darkness fades away until it lifts into a murky grey. I claw at it. "Don’t leave me." The cascading water mingles with my heaving sobs and my tears fall into a warm torrent.
An uncomfortable prod delves around my eye socket and a blue eye stares at me. "Wake up, Soph." The dark blue eyes are framed by a face torn with an expression of such despair it jostles me, pulls me from the welcoming black void of nothing.
Water gushes over that torn face, running in rivulets, falling into the mouth open in anguish, rolling off dark long lashes. "If you don’t wake up, I’ll have to take you to the hospital. And they will start it all over again. They will make me stay away."
The solid surface holding my body gives a tight squeeze.
Does he not know I’m awake? I’m here.
"Blake?" His name tumbles from my mouth, lost in gurgling jets of water. "Blake?" I try again and his attention snaps towards me. His dark waves fall onto his face, soaked strands of darkest ebony. My fingers reach for the warm supportive surface of his body, tangling in drenched cotton, sliding through the gap between buttons until my fingertips meet hot damp skin.
"Sophia." My name’s a cry and his arms crush me into his wet chest, my fingers trapped between our heaving bodies, splayed against his skin. I’m touching him and he’s holding me in the way I’ve always dreamed.
My head aches, thumping and rattling in my skull and I wince at the extreme sharp pain.
One hand smooths around my neck, running along the sensitive skin under my hairline. A thumb grazes the edge of my jaw and I stare up at him, wordlessly. I don’t have anything to say, I just stare up at him as if he’s the sun. I’ve never realised how big he is compared to me, but he cradles the back of my neck in one warm, easy hand. A low whimper leaves my lips, but it’s not the headache. It’s desire. It’s always desire with him. He’s all I’ve ever wanted. He is all I knew I’d never get.
I want the darkness again. Oblivion. Oblivion is easier.
"Blake, you lied to me," I say, the words just falling from my unwilling mouth. "You lied. You’re just like everyone else…"
Firm fingers hold my chin and I fight against the touch, straining away. It reminds me of something dark and unwanted. "Look at me."
Screwing my eyes shut, I shake my head. A flutter of pressure lands on my skin, a soft caress. "I’ll never lie to you again. Anything you want to know, I’ll give it to you." Another caress. "Sophia, I promise."
My eyes snap open. Am I dreaming? Water spurts in my eyes. Some dream. Blake stands under the water, his hair flattened and black as it falls across his forehead, into his lashes. "I’m just cleaning you up." His cheek presses against mine and the water tumbles over us like a hot spring. "Cleaning us up."
I widen my eyes, my faculties slowly returning. "Us?"
The dark blues swirl with hidden depths. "You puked on me."
I struggle against his hold and his arms tighten. I’d puked on him?
"Stay still." It’s a low command and my fight dissolves at his words. Fingers run through my hair, pulling at the strands, lifting them so water can seep against my scalp. His eyes focus on my mouth and that searing expression of torment returns to his features as long fingers cradle the bones of my face, holding it secure. All I can do is keep my eyes wide open and lose myself in his deep gaze. I search for repulsion in their depths but what I find is unnameable. “Here.” He hands me a tube of toothpaste which I all to willingly squirt straight into my mouth, swirling it around with my tongue before swallowing.
"I’m sorry. I was so angry and scared." I don’t know how to explain why I reacted the way I did. It’s what I do. I launch myself off the cliff of oblivion at the first sign of trouble. It’s a pathetic weakness but one I don’t know how to fix.
He inches closer. "Shh, don’t speak."
My remaining words die on my tongue, washed away in the steaming droplets of the shower. Hesitating for one long moment he measures the space between us, but then I watch in a dream as his lips set with determination and he closes the space. Anticipation rockets through my body. A wild giddiness rushes like a train.
His lips brush mine and the air in my lungs dissipates. Gone. The fingers holding my face grip firmer as he steps closer, his chest brushing mine, the soaking material of our clothes meshing together. He stalls, his lips skimming and savouring as they pass in gentle delicate waves over the surface of my mouth. Finally, when my tummy is flipping into an erratic dance of desire, his warm tongue teases and flicks my lips. My mouth burns with fire as I open and he tilts my head in the cradle of his hands until we are a blur of teeth, tongues and gasps.
This is a kiss and I’m awake. Every brush, every touch, every swirl of his tongue, every suck on my lips, every dancing probe is an electrical charge restoring my cold damaged heart.
My heart, thumping wildly in my chest, ceases to beat when he breaks the connection of the kiss. An echoing silence fills the sound that moments before was my ragged breathing and our mutual sighs. His fingers hold me tight, their strength unwavering. When I open my eyes he’s millimetres away, a flash of defeat chasing across the handsome planes of his face. "I can’t save you like this." His words are nothing more than a broken whisper drowned by the fall of water.
My fingers reach for his face, skimming the tips along his skin, the curve of his nose, the smooth outline of his lips hidden under dark stubble. I cling to him, holding him with every shred of strength I can muster. Desperately, I meet his eyes, swallowing the pounding pulse that thuds in my throat as my heart kick-starts back to life. Holding his gaze, I say the words I’ve never said to anyone. "Save me. Please?"