2012. Part 3

Pt. 3. 

Autumn

As they laid there, side by side in the sun, he couldn't believe they'd gotten so lucky. The forecast had predicted chilly winds and overcast skies, preventing the masses from coming out to the park. She'd been on-edge lately, but now, here, he could see that she was different. It was as if the sun was recharging her, while softening her edges at the same time. The light breeze played with a few strands of her hair, making them dance across her cheeks & nose, a delicate ballet tracing her silhouette.

The furrow in her brow had finally relaxed, disappearing for the first time in what felt like months. Her hands were out, palms up, fingers in a natural curl, no longer balled up and clutching on to whatever was closest to her. She was laying on her back, knees bent, feet on the ground, fully facing and drinking in the sun; lately she'd constantly been sleeping on her side like a pill bug, surely dragging all of the covers with her. She always was quite the blanket hog... on the couch playing games, on the floor during late night talks, in the lawn chairs at the drive-in, and definitely on the hood of the car when they'd be out in the middle nowhere listening to some crappy music talking about their dreams.

But at this moment, he couldn't remember the last time she had looked so calm. Certainly it was the quietest he'd seen her in a long while; even when she'd accidentally slip into slumber during their hangouts lately, incomprehensible phrases or horrified screams would slip out. It definitely added ambience to their scary movie nights, that was for sure. She would always apologize (I'm so sorry, I'm really not sleeping much lately but you know I'd never cancel on you), and he'd always assure her (it's fine, really, don't worry about it) because he could sense it was probably the only time she was sleeping at all. 

The year had not been kind to her, and he was thankful that she had a moment of respite. She didn't have to tell him that she'd had some truly awful things happen to her these past few months; it had been painfully clear in every move she made. The way she'd flinch when someone moved towards her a bit too quickly, or how she no longer would laugh when someone punctuated a joke with a light shove. How she would wear full-length jeans even if it was over 100 degrees outside, and her late night messages no longer littered with laughing emojis. She'd pulled back into herself, and there was a shroud of something lingering over her that he wouldn't dare ask about; if she wanted to talk, she would.

So many had wronged her, and all he wanted was to be her safe space; he loved her softly and without expectations when no one else did. The shaggy haired boy from campus, the arrogant frat brother, the wannabe NFL star, the pushy Marine, the creeps online and in her classes, the list could go on & on... He'd seen them all hurt her in various ways, draining her life force, taking pieces of her until she was an empty shell of the girl he'd first met, so vibrant & full of life. 

Today was the first glimpse he'd had of that girl for entirely too long. He turned to look at her once more just as the dancing tendrils of hair tickled her nose, causing her to subconsciously swat them away with a hand. She twisted to lay on her side, eyes still closed, head resting on her scrunched up hoodie. Her right arm was cradled up underneath her head, and her left was outstretched, landing dangerously close to his own. Oh, how he wished she was reaching for him. If only he knew she was just awake enough to be wishing the same thing of him in that moment, tempting him ever so gently with that open hand in the sun.

One of her knees had landed on top of the bag of sour gummy worms she'd brought along (it's a special occasion, she'd said, also grabbing the Mexican Coca-Colas, of course we have to have fun snacks), obliterating his chances at snagging it away without waking her. He wasn't sure what special occasion she had been referring to earlier when they'd gone to the store; it had just felt like any other Tuesday to him, but as she started to softly snore there on the hill, sun lighting up her features so elegantly, he understood it. She had found the one with whom she felt safe again, and who the silence didn't feel foreboding with. She could rest easy. A knowing smile slipped across his face as he thought, No one's ever going to hurt you again.