Warning: the chapter contains sensitive content that can be triggering
"Oh, hi." Connor's mother was again surprised when we entered the Mendleys place and she glanced up from her spot in the comfy armchair in the salon, her feet relaxing on the ottoman and a half empty mug on the coffee table.
Connor nodded at her, not even stopping on his way up towards his room. I stood there awkwardly for a moment, waving as she grinned over her book, a cute set of reading glasses rested on the tip of her nose.
"You're coming quite a lot lately, uh?"
Her eyes slid down, noticing Connor's black jumper. Self-consciously I felt my face growing hot, but I felt also relief that with her attention there she didn't notice the run in my stocking or the stinging scratches on the side of my forehead.
"Yes." I giggled, blushing at her obvious insinuation, but before I could make an excuse or babble idiotically Connor called from the up floor:
"Alyson."
"Yes, I, uh- nice seeing you Mrs Mendley." I waved her again moronically before moving towards the stairs too.
"But, wait! You want something to eat? I'm making a shortcake."
"We're fine." deadpanned Connor as I reached the top of the stairs and his fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling me after him towards his room and slamming the door. "Are you hungry?"
Really? Right now the mere thought of eating got my mouth drying and I felt my stomach closed up as ever. "Not really."
His dark eyes scanned me, frowning at the scratch in my forehead and something swirled under his eyes before he looked away, dropping my wrist. "You need to clean that up."
"I- I need to know what you meant." he hummed but didn't respond, instead he moved to retrieve a first aid kid from one of the top shelves. "Connor." I frowned as he sidestepped me and sat on the mattress, with the box in his lap and dropping his backpack to the ground. "You say we would talk."
"Did I?" he sounded as cold as he usually does, blocking his emotions from me, probably regretting ever even bringing the topic up.
"You said-" but my voice failed when he took my wrist again and made me sit beside him, so close I was dazed like only he made me and for a second I lose the train of my thoughts. My breath hitched too and I straightened my spine when his left hand moved to brush my hair away and the other brought a little cotton there, cleaning the scratch. "It stings."
"Suck it up." but his fingers loosened strength and wipe the other scratch. Jade's nails had almost broken the skin, blood hadn't been dropped, but almost. And my thumb ached too.
I squinted my eyes at his mock, trying once more: "You say you would tell me about... about this girl."
The girl that was older and apparently had something to do with his pickiness with touching. I got the worst feeling because my mind was going into overdrive through all the options -and none were good.
"D-don't you want to anymore?"
"No."
I gulped, shifting in my spot as he got up and went to his desk to drop the first aid kit, his shoulders tense. "No as in 'I don't not want to' or as in 'No, I don't want to'?"
He stiffened, his back towards me as his knuckles turned white and his fists clenched. "I don't want to talk about it." even his voice sounded tense, as if everything in him was rebelling against the idea of opening up. "I never want to talk about it."
"Oh."
"But," he took in a deep sighed, forcing his shoulders to relax and slowly spun. "I made you confront Jade, and I know you didn't want to." was there regret in his voice now? "So it's only fair if I do confront some of my mess as well."
"I don't want you to feel forced to." I mumbled as he returned to the bed and it dipped by my side. "We don't have to talk about this girl or whatever. I'm just... I just want to know why you don't like to be touched."
"It's all the same." his palms rubbed almost anxiously against his grey joggers. And it made me more nervous. Connor showing off discomfort? "I don't know where to start."
"W-what about from the beginning?" I tried to be helpful, turning so I was sitting facing him, unsure what to expect of how to react to this version of him? Would he want my comfort? Would it make him push me away?
He sighed forcefully through his nose, taking a couple seconds, organizing his thoughts. "Her name was Asia Hataway." he started slowly, as is testing the words, as if they were resisting. "She was older... several years. Pretty, smart and all that. She lived three houses down and started babysitting us when we were six."
"Did she..." I gulped. "Did she treat you badly?"
"No." he frowned, staring forward as if deep in thought, his muscles tense and his hands still rubbing his legs. "She was fine. Nice, and comforting... that kind of people that had a way with kids. Also, I wasn't one to go out and play; so when Norah would have other friends over or be outside, Asia would stay in with me."
"So, she was good?"
"No." Connor stressed and the brushing became too frantic, making me take his hand, afraid he would hurt himself somehow. His eyes lowered there, watching me carefully slid my fingers through his, not knowing if it was okay or if it would upset him further. "It was fine. At first. But at some point it changed and she... she started treating me differently."
"Differently?" I could feel my heart racing. The awful ideas I'd got since she first mentioned she was the reason why he didn't like people touching him made my head spin. "Did she... hurt you?"
"I don't know." he whispered and my confusion and apprehension increase. What? "I can't remember it."
"What do you mean?"
"I must have blocked it at some point. I have every single detail of my life stored, even the most ridiculous ones, but..." his brows pursed. "I can remember that. Like there's a hole. Like it never happened."
"S-so, are you saying that she... she-"
"Asia was sick. And she saw me in a way-" he shook his head and my stomach twitched, making me feel like I might throw up. "Whatever."
A weakness overpowered my limbs as his words sank in.
He was describing an abuse, wasn't he?
That's why he didn't like being touched. Because he'd been traumatized in the past.
He's been hurt, had said Norah.
Connor breathed unevenly, his fingers tightening almost painfully around mine, lost in his mind and memories. "I know it happened because there was a trial. And my parents told me. Nors knew too... I know it happen because it keeps me awake at night. There's this... fear. And pain. Like a void that burns me from the inside, under my skin. Even if I can't recall it. Actually, I'm not sure if not remembering it clearly doesn't make it worse."
I didn't know what to say. Or what to do, how to react... I wasn't even sure I was connected to my body anymore. It felt like I was rather having and out-of-body experience.
Air didn't even seem to reach my lungs properly. My head felt aired with the impression and for a few moments I felt numb, like the concern and apprehension of what he was confessing couldn't get a proper hold of me.
Connor was abused.
Abused.
"That's why I hate people touching me. It's triggering, like it awakes... something."
Too self-conscious that I was touching him I unclenched my fingers from his. "B-but why didn't you tell me?" I went to pull away, giving him space with my pulse roaring in my ears, but his hand didn't drop mine and forbid me from putting distance. "I would had kept it to myself. I wouldn't-"
"It's different with you." His eyebrows twitched, as if he too was confused by that statement. "I don't hate that."
"How?"
"I trust you." his thumb caressed my wrist, his other hand coming to take it as well and I couldn't seem to decide if I wanted to melt at the beautiful touch or the fear and oppressive feeling of the confession of his past. I couldn't wrap my head around it. The room was spinning. Should I say I was sorry he went through that? Ask more about it? Act like nothing? How do you even act when you're told that? I was completely lost. "I like you."
My eyes watered and I had to blink. It was the first time he actually says it, but more than a declaration it felt like an intimacy. A confession that made me want to to both cry and faint.
"I like you too." I muttered, hating that my voice came out trembling. And not only my voice. His hold on my hand was too tight to be just a soothing gesture, and his whole body was stiff, tense and breathing uneven. Still unsure of how to react after such a bomb, I carefully went to slide closer. "Connor-"
"N-no." he stuttered, like, actually stuttered, and my heart dipped several inches as he retreated letting go of me at all and standing -as if I'd pushed the final button. "I just... I need to think."
To think.
He looked like he needed to calm, to recompose. And it was my fault. I forced him to relive his trauma.
"Of course." I got up too, waiting for his reaction, but he kept his back towards me, sliding his fingers through his hair. Stressed. "T-thank you." I decided to add at the end. "For telling me."
He nodded, but didn't turn.
Somehow I hold it together until I was outside his room and closed the door between us. My tears immediately arrived then, pouring helplessly.
"Alyson?" I looked up and saw Norah climbing up the stairs with her Krav Maga bag on her shoulder and her pink hair pulled backwards in a ponytail. "Hey, I heard you and Jade had a clash. Are you okay? How did it-" At first she looked worried, but as he took a better look of me, standing before Connor's door and crying her eyes widened in realization. "Oh holy shit." she rushed towards me and tugged me with her to her room, giving Connor's looks until we were out of sight. "He told you, didn't he?"
I nodded, fully sobbing now and hugged my middle barely feeling how my knees weakened forcing me to crouch on the floor by her desk.
"Come on," she kneeled before me, brushing my back reassuringly. "He can't see you like this."
********************
Norah took me to a bar nearby, thinking better than to stay in the same house as Connor while I too had my own moment of weakness. He'd never shown emotion, and this had left him upset, sensitive -obviously. I didn't want to give him any other reason to think telling me had been a bad idea, so, as Norah had said, he couldn't see me like this.
I had my fair share of cry and so did she as she answered some questions I wasn't that sure Connor wanted nor was it right to ask. Apparently Asia was fine until they turned eleven more or less, then her relationship with Connor begin to shift, not like one violent act of abuse, more like a secret between them that slowly grew to more.
I didn't know the details -nor had the stomach to pry for them- but when their parents found out it costed him months of therepy and it took a nail in his already closed and introverted personality.
Asia was sentenced to a federal prison for sex abusers and her early release for good behaviour in a few months was one of the reasons of the Mendleys moving here last summer. To put distance because the news unsettled Connor fragile inner peace.
And here I thought he was just cold because that was how he was. It was because the trauma.
And I felt like an asshole.
I had the urge to see him as soon as I felt like I could collect myself enough to behave, but would he want to see me? Probably not.
Connor's been the one to ask for time and space, it was on him to decide when this was over. And hopefully he would, and not retrieve even more and regret ever telling me anything.
Norah stayed with me until she had her Krav Maga lessons and I decided to go out and try to take a few decent shots. Not to stress, but the exposition for USC was right at the corner and I still didn't have my whole project done. I still didn't have half of it. So far I only got one decent pic and I need at lease two or three more.
And also, photography had always been a way to relax. And it helped. Kinda. My chest didn't feel as tight and I stopped seeing it from my perspective and worried more about Connor.
It was already dark by the time I had control over my volatile, sensitive reactions and decided to get home. I opened the door and was immediately greeted by the sweet scent of cooked vegetables.
"Hi."
"Hi, sweetie!" I dropped my jacket by the door and moved to the kitchen where she was setting the table and grinned at me. "How was your day? Did you take some awesome shots?"
"Some." I grinned, laying the camera on the table and moving to wash my hands before helping her set down the cups. "I'll check them out later and hopefully some would be worth it."
"When are they coming again?"
"The exposition is in two weeks." I nodded. "I should get something decent by the end of the week and spend next one making it look good and professional. Loui said he'll help."
"That's so nice of him... oh, hey," Granny took my chin, tilting my head and eying me carefully. "Have you been crying?"
"A little." I grinned, trying to weigh it down. "But you know me. If I don't cry twice a day I'm not me."
"What is this?" she let go to caress the scratches on my forehead with the back of her fingers. My heart picked up. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, of course. Let's- let's just eat."
There was no way Granny wasn't seeing past my white lie, but she didn't press further. We have a nice dinner and then I go up to shower and do some homework now that I was more relaxed.
At some point Macy called me, having heard too about me and Jade behind the bleachers. How do I keep forgetting about that? It felt as if it had been years since that fight and my mind was now overwhelmed by different new information that drowned everything else.
The base of my thumb didn't throb as much so I guess it must have been the ache of the impact what stung earlier and besides the scratch and the sensitivity in some patched of my scalp, for the moment I could forget about that.
Macy stayed on the phone with me until late and when Granny came by in her nightgown and robe, telling me she was going to sleep and to cut it soon since it was a school night. She kissed my forehead goodnight and I finished working getting ready for sleep as well.
Only that sleep never came.
Everything was too vivid. Every memory, every time Connor's pulled away or keep it cold. While I was having teenage drama over him not liking me, he was struggling so small touches wouldn't make him spiral down the mess that taunted him for one stupid criminal bitch.
I wasn't one to drop insults, but I couldn't control the powerful anger when I think about it over and over.
I was buzzing, boiling, twitching with the jolts of-
I was startled by my phone beeping and it's vibration against my stomach made me remember I'd let my mind went off while watching a video. That's how messed I was.
My heart stilted when I saw who it was.
CONNOR: R u up?
ALYSON: yes.
can't sleep
CONNOR: me 2
I had to bite my inner cheek to keep the tears at bay, knowing he was suffering over this as well. Way more than me. I'd for sure had stirred the trauma with all my stupid pushing. Had I made it worse by having him relive it?
The phone beeped again cutting me from thinking a proper reply.
CONNOR: you think you can sneak me in?
What? I got into a sitting position, my eyes moving towards the window, but from here I could only see the dark sky and the top of the opposite house.
ALYSON: In?
Are you here?
I watched him typing, stopping, and after some long seconds typing again.
CONNOR: I need to see you
It didn't take me much more to decide I must try to sneak him in. I got out the bed, not even caring I probably was having bed hair and not the most flattering pajama and tiptoes my way out the room and the dark hallway.
It was now past midnight, and I was sure Granny was out for good. She took one little pill to help her knock off at night, but still I didn't want to accidentally wake her up.
Slowly not to make any unwanted noise, I slowly unlocked the front door and easily find his silhouette, dark against the faint lights from the street and only the cigarette he was smoking allowed some brightness in his lips, projecting dramatic shadows up his face.
His attention was on me the moment the door opened and more of that weird buzzing ignited in me, but now that I had him there it wasn't that verged on anger but on something way more shattering.
How should I act?
I pushed the doubts back and instead focused on the now. Getting him in without much drama. We'll face phase two once that step was checked.
I put one finger over my lips as soon as he spotted me in the doorframe. "My grandmother is sleeping."
He nodded, disregarding the butt of his cigarette and silently followed me in. The way up was more excruciating than the way down; and when we finally made it to my room, I closed the door as if barricading us against the rest of the house. The only source of light was coming from the little lamp on my nightstand and the rest was swallowed by darkness and silence.
"So..." I started, unsure, but was cut:
"I don't wanna talk about it." muttered Connor, keeping that quiet halo and shrugging off the jacket off his shoulders.
"I know." I took it from him and put it in my desk. "Do you, um, are you staying the night?" He nodded and a part of me relax. "Alright, do you need something? I can lend you one of my father's pajamas."
"Aren't you wearing that?" his voice was low, plain; and I glance down feeling my cheeks burn because I was wearing one of my father's shirts and my yoga pants under.
"I mean, yeah, but I have more." I was so shaken I failed to notice he meant it as a taunt and not seriously. I took one from the bottom of my drawer and hand it over. "I'm gonna get us some water, you want something?"
He shook his head, looking deep in thought, his expression was still blank and I tried that it didn't affect me.
I thought we were past his coldness, but I need to give him time because after today it felt like we'd been shaken. So I nodded and left him in my closed bedroom, taking a bottle of water for good measure and the pack of crackers because Connor was one to have midnight snacks. Maybe later he would want one.
When I made it back he was already in the checkered comfy clothes I let him. He looked so weird in them, but also more innocent. It was a clearer choice than his usual always black, and they were larger than him, as my father had a bit of overweight.
He was sitting on the verge of my mattress, doing again that thing brushing his thighs. Like before. Was he still stressed?
"Hey." I greeted slowly closing the door and summing us in this little bubbled once more. "I brought some snacks, are up for it?" but despites my cheerful try it was as if he didn't head me, his eyes glared forward, far from here. Gulping, I let the little tray on the desk, filled the glass and bringing it to the nightstand. "So..." he hummed, his mind still somewhere else. "Are you okay?"
He blinked. "Alyson, I really don't wanna talk about it anymore."
"I know." I stepped closer, instinctively wanting to sit by his side and physically comfort him; but decide against it, twitching my hands to repress the urge to touch him. "We don't have to." I glanced over at the clock on the wall. It was past midnight now. "Wanna try to sleep?"
He nodded and we moved to get in my bed, only then I realised that my bed was smaller than his, leaving barely an inch between us once laid down. Connor took the place against the wall and I turned off the light. I could feel his body heat against mine, his presence like a buzz and a thrill.
"Thanks for letting me stay." he whispered in the dark, his breath fanning the side of my face and I grinned tiredly.
"I like you staying." I muttered back. "I'm glad you came. I needed to see you as well." I confessed remembering his sweet text from earlier.
Once more, I wanted to turn and slid closer. Cuddle, touch his hand or whatever. But it wouldn't be right. Not now.
I laced my fingers over my stomach to prevent it. His eyes took in the movement through the dark and something flashed behind them, but I couldn't quite read it and then he looked away.
"I trust you." he repeated the same as hours ago, staring up at the ceiling. "I don't want things to change now."
"I-I know. They won't. And I-I know you don't want to talk about it, but I didn't know. I would have been different, I wouldn't have-"
"Alyson." his rough whisper cut through my starting blurt of babble, making me hum, and when he didn't immediately respond I turned on my side, feeling my heart leaping as his eyes found mine in the darkness. "You can touch me." he muttered and I almost glow at the raw need that was swirling behind his orbs, turning on his side as well so we were face to face. Touch him? Was he sure? My skin itched for the familiar feeling of his, but wouldn't that make him uncomfortable? As if reading my mind, he sighed. "I need you to touch me."
And that was all I needed. At the almost shaken end of his voice I finally get rid of my own hesitations and leaned into him, my head came against his shoulder and his arms closed on my back as his pressed against the mattress so he was laying up with me half on top. One of my legs had tangled with his and my arms were over his torso, drinking from his nearness and the rapid heartbeat of his chest against mine.
He was shaking. Or was it me? I hid my face in his neck, loving the citric and smoking scent of him and how it immediately calmed my nerves.
"I want you to feel comfortable." I muttered against his neck, shifting so my body glide against his into the perfect position as his hands travelled down my spine and folded across the small of my back, holding me closer. Fitting like two puzzle pieces.
"I am." he reassured against my hair. "Are you still hurting?"
From Jade's fight I realize. Again, I'd almost forgotten about that. Was that really just some hours ago?
"No." I nuzzled there and close my eyes, feeling at ease and complete at last. "I'm glad you came."
I felt his lips to the side of my head, near the scratch that now stopped stinging with the balsam of his loving attention. "Me too."
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QUESTION: Marvel or DC?
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