"But you are not a picture, I can't cut you up and hide you."
~ Ariana Grande, R.E.M.
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Sophie groaned as she turned on her opposite side for probably the millionth time that night. She had hardly slept, and when she did, it wasn't the deep REM sleep she needed.
Cillian was the same, only sleeping for short amounts of time, but each time his sleep was riddled with night terrors. He was normally a light sleeper. Being held captive and abused for so many years, he always had to be on high alert, ears perked and ready to make out any threats that could be looming.
Sophie knew this about him. She always felt bad when she unintentionally woke him in the night. Whether she shifted on her side or something as small as itching her nose, Cillian would always have at least one eye open to check on her before falling back to sleep. He never seemed to mind if it was her that accidentally woke him. He told her he would rather know she was safe than to sleep through something.
That's why she was shocked when she made her way to his bedside this morning to find him still asleep. He didn't wake to the door opening or even the padding of her feet. Once she was at his side, she immediately knew why. He was having a night terror.
Risking her safety, she placed her palm to his chest to lightly shake him awake. "Cillian?" She gently called.
He flinched, his eyes scrunched in pain, and his jaw tightly clenched.
"Baby, it's okay. It's just a dream. Wake up." She spoke again, a little louder than the last.
Her hands shifted upward towards his face and he startled awake, his chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat coating his skin.
She immediately withdrew her hand. "Cillian, it's okay! You're safe." She felt if she could touch him, he would calm down like he had in the past before. However, in fear of being hurt, she refrained.
He thrashed and clawed to get away, still in a daze. He panted, his eyes red from lack of a peaceful night's sleep. "Not you - gosh, not you." He snapped, his glazed over eyes glaring daggers at her.
"You're safe here, baby. It was just a dream," she whispered, remaining calm.
She noticed the blank look on his face and wanted to make sure he wasn't still actively having a night terror. Though she hesitated, she reached out to cup his jaw. At her small movement, he flinched violently, moving away. She tried again, this time successful.
"Hey," she cooed, softly. "Where are you right now?"
The pure shock of her being there seemed to shake him out of it - just not enough to keep her from looking haunted in his mind, some ravaged excuse of a terrible thing.
His scowl softened and he scanned the area around him. "My cell," he mumbled, shakily. "But not the bad one."
She wanted to correct him and call it their home, or maybe even his parent's home, but she didn't. Though it resembled a hospital room, he wasn't allowed to leave it and was restrained to his bed. In a way, he was in a cell right now. She felt guilty everyday for it.
She concentrated on keeping her breathing even, her touch gentle. "Yes. Good." Recognizing his surroundings meant he was beginning to pull through.
"No." He choked on his breath instead. He struggled to sit up despite having nothing that held him down. The invisible weight of fear on his chest was enough. It felt suffocating. "It's not good- I can't-"
"Hey," she said again. She slid her hands down his neck, down to his chest, and lightly pushed him back. "You're safe here. Do you know who I am?"
He stilled and stared wildly at her. As if he was part Cillian and part whatever side of him was tortured, she saw recognition flash in his eyes. He looked relieved at first, but dread and irritation were quick to follow.
Yet, she found herself cupping the back of his head, stroking his absurdly soft hair as if that might reach through and untangle the snarls of bad memories too. "I love you, it's okay. You're safe."
He melted into her tender embrace, his body relaxing ever so slightly. She could tell when he clicked back in reality because he went completely rigid again.
He growled and snarled in distaste, curling himself inward to get away from her, flushed and furious. He quickly pulled away from her and ducked his head, eager to hide his anxiety.
While it was anxiety, the only way he knew to protect himself from it at the moment was to make her anxious as well. At his growl, she shriveled back.
Cillian always considered himself as frightening and the look in Sophie's eyes confirmed that for him. He normally didn't mind, he used it as an advantage. He knew he was intimidating, frightening, lethal, a weapon, even. However, now he felt guilty for frightening her. It was a little like getting punched in the throat. He hated being the monster in the story.
"Do you..." she cleared her throat and scratched the back of her head. "Do you want to talk about it?" She offered, weakly.
He shot her a glare. Part of him hated feeling vulnerable with her. He hated he was starting to feel safe enough to do that.
"Sorry, I'm just trying to help-"
"I don't want your help." He snapped and everything inside him cringed at his lie. "I want you to leave."
Her jaw went slack at his tone, his words like a punch to the gut. "I'm sorry, I just-"
"You can help by leaving me alone." He seethed, his words like a dagger to his own heart. Why was he saying this?
She couldn't do it anymore. She stood there in front of him, trembling as she summed up enough courage to ask, "do you hate me?"
He hesitated and gave her a skeptical look. "No."
Tears spilled down her face and she croaked, "do you dislike me?"
His eyes narrowed. "No."
She looked to the ceiling, her eyes filled with unshed tears as she let out a laugh. Her laugh once lifted his spirits, would send a shiver down his spine, or even make him feel like he was on top of the world- especially when he was the one who caused her to laugh. But this laugh was different. There was no humor to it, no light, no joy. It was heartbreaking.
She choked back a sob and for a second, he felt the urge to run to her, to wrap his arms around her, to hold her, protect her. Instead, he remained glued to where he was, powerless.
She coughed once and rasped, "Do you even like me anymore?"
He hesitated, and that alone shattered any remaining hope she had left. He had to think about it.
She sighed and nodded her head in understanding. She turned to leave when a featherlight touch wrapped around her wrist. When she looked at him, his head was still ducked down, jaw tightly clenched. He didn't want to ask for her to stay, but he clearly needed her to. With her hand still trapped in his, she sat down on the edge of his bed, ignoring the dangers of it.
Subconsciously, his grip tightened before he let go. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "I... I don't... when I say those things, it doesn't feel like it's me saying them, but it's hard to stop them." He tried his best to explain, even though it looked like it pained him to do so.
She said nothing, for he had nothing to apologize for. As much as he hurt her with his words, she knew he didn't mean it. Not the real Cillian, anyway. Not her Cillian.
"I'm trying to do better," he whispered so quietly, she hardly heard him. "I don't want to scare you away, despite what I said."
"I know," she replied, weakly, her tone as delicate as her heart was at the moment. "And you won't. I'm afraid you're stuck with me." She attempted to joke to lighten the mood, gesturing to the mark he left on her neck that felt like forever ago now.
Tentatively, his big hand reached out, and she allowed it. His fingertips trailed down her neck, grazing over her mark, sending a shiver down her spine.
A breathy laugh escaped him, his gaze falling to his lap. "What a crazy few months..." He exasperated, his expression slowly falling. His eyes met hers again and ever so softly, he told her, "I know I shouldn't feel any negative way towards you. You've been nothing but kind to me since I got here. I just can't get the lies out of my head. My heart is telling me one thing, but it's like my brain has been programmed to..."
"To hate me?"
"To not trust you." He corrected her. "I don't hate you. I just feel like I don't know you anymore."
Fire in the form of water stung the backs of her eyes at his confession, but she kept the tears from falling down her cheeks. "That's okay. It's not your fault. I'm here to help you remember, right?" She rasped, her eyes welled with unshed tears.
He nodded and reached a hand out as far as his restraints would allow him- an invitation. He expected hesitation or maybe full on rejection, but there was none of that. As if it was second nature, she immediately intertwined her fingers with his.
She ran her thumb across his knuckles and pulled out his phone from her pocket. "I think I have something that can help you remember."
He took the phone with the hand that wasn't holding hers, glancing at the lock screen. For the first time since he got here, a smile graced his face. It was a picture of her laughing at him, in the middle of doing her makeup. She was sat on the vanity, her feet in the sink. Just as he had when he initially took the picture, Cillian found this hilarious and incredibly endearing. "Why are you on the vanity?" He asked through his grin.
She matched his smile, subconsciously giving his hand a squeeze. "The mirror is too far away so it's more comfy." She explained with a chuckle.
He unlocked the phone screen and went to his camera roll. "I think I remember that."
"You better. You made fun of me for it the whole day."
He scrolled all the way to the first picture ever taken on his phone- the one from her parent's house, under the mistletoe.
"Do you remember this one?" She wondered.
His eyes flickered over the screen. "Your family wanted us to kiss, but I bit my cheek."
"No, you lied about biting your cheek," she laughed at him.
He played dumb and brushed off the comment, still committing to the little lie. "I don't know what you're talking about."
She shook her head, amused with his antics, and for a moment, it felt like she had her Cillian back. "Well accident or not, I appreciate you waiting for me."
He thought back to their first kiss, the one in the jacuzzi on their "honeymoon." She had just told him he was beautiful in and out. She reassured him his scars didn't bother her. She didn't find him ugly. In fact, she had a way of making him feel quite the opposite.
He remembered the way the water glided around them as she leaned against his side, a hand on his chest. He remembered the feeling of her bare skin under his hands as they settled on her rib cage, feeling her breath against his lips as they hovered above hers. He let her be the first one to lean in. He remembered the phrase, "whatever you're willing." And she was willing.
He remembered the way her fingers tangled into the ends of his wet hair, her arms over his broad shoulders, her legs straddling his lap. Then she kissed him.
That was all he needed to kiss her back. He remembered the way every part of him wanted to wrap around her, to make this kiss as special as he could, not knowing if this would be the only chance he'd have to do so. He wanted to make every touch one she craved, one she would willingly lean into, and in turn, touch him with just the same amount of tender and love.
He couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since they had kissed and if or when they would do it again.
With a shake of his head, he snapped back into reality. His eyes flickered over to hers, then to her mouth, back to her eyes- and he was caught.
She tilted her head at him, curiously. "What?" She huffed a breathy laugh.
He looked back at his phone- a faint blush growing on his cheeks. "Nothing. Just thinking."
Hours went by, full of laughter, a few tears, and genuine connection. The pictures he couldn't remember off the top of his head, she would explain to him and fill him in on what he forgot. Talking through it would trigger the memory, replacing any bad with good.
By the afternoon, they were both exhausted, lacking sleep. Both of their eyes were red and heavy, desperately wanting sleep.
As they got to the final picture, Cillian locked his screen and set his phone aside. "Sophie?"
She hummed in reply.
"Thank you." He told her, earnestly.
"Whatever you need, I'm here. No matter how long it takes. You waited for me, I'll wait for you." She replied, running a hand through his hair. "Whatever you're willing." She quoted what he told her so many times in the beginning of their relationship.
Recognization flashed in his eyes. "Sophie?"
She faced him, her eyes full of hope. "Yes?"
"I think we both deserve a good night's sleep." He said and moved over to give her space on the bed next to him. "Will you stay?"
She smiled a small smile. "Always."
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Ahhh thank you SO much for 100,000 reads!! This book has grown so much and so fast, it makes me so so happy :,)
Important question: how did you find this book? Under tags? Recommended? A reading list? Something else?
I'm asking because this book has blown up in the past couple weeks and I'm so curious as to why and how ð
Question of the chapter: please answer this!! What has been your favorite part of this book so far? It can be a scene, a character, a chapter, a certain detail, anything. I just want some feedback so I know what you would like to see more of ð©·