In Your Corner | ✓

Nineteen

In comparison to the last time Josh stayed over, I sleep pretty well. I think he does too, given that he doesn't toss and turn, or shout in his nightmares. Instead, he just holds me close throughout the night, legs threaded with mine.

Still, when my alarm sounds at six o'clock, because I'd forgotten about it last night, I really wish I had longer to sleep because I'm honestly exhausted. I've been getting up pretty early to hit the gym, even on the nights we have training, just so I can work off some of the extra stress I've been feeling lately.

Groaning, I reach out to my bedside table and grab my phone, trying to turn it off before Josh wakes up, even though I've slipped out of his arms in the process.

I'm not successful, though, because he lifts his head and looks at me through groggy eyes, his curls matted to his forehead a little. "Nat?"

"Morning," I sigh, flopping back down onto my pillow, now completely awake. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. I usually go to the gym in the mornings."

He rubs a hand over his face, still looking pretty sleepy. "Right. Me too, but not on nights that we have training. You work hard, huh?"

"Something like that," I mumble, burrowing back under the covers.

Josh's eyes find mine, looking at me in concern. "Did you sleep okay last night?"

"Yeah, fine. How about you?" I ask, my worried expression matching his.

He lies back down, so that his head is on the pillow, facing the ceiling. "Yeah. Thanks for, you know, coming to get me last night and everything."

"It's okay."

I'm not really sure what to say after he told me in no uncertain terms last night that he doesn't want to talk about it. On the one hand, I don't want to irritate him, but on the other hand, surely, I have to do something? Or at least check every now and again, because I'm pretty convinced the way he's handling this isn't exactly healthy.

Josh covers his face with his hands for a minute. "Seriously, thanks."

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" I query softly, knowing my tone is vulnerable, because I want to be there for him, but I don't know if I'm doing the right thing.

His hands remain over his eyes and his breath starts to pick up a little. "Uh."

I long to reach out and comfort him, but I don't think that's really going to help.

"I just, you know, struggle with it. I think about it all the time, no matter what I'm doing or where I am. Going to work is fine, but..." he trails off.

It agonises me, not being able to take all of this pain away from him.

"I think about it more there. Tonight, I took the bins out like I was doing that night and there was someone at the end of the alley, just having a smoke. I couldn't breathe, Nat," Josh rushes out, his chest rapidly rising and falling.

One of his hands comes away from his face and blindly reaches for me.

I catch it in front of me and squeeze. "I'm here, Josh," I murmur. "Just breathe with me."

We both take breaths in and out, calming down.

"They didn't even look at me, but there I was, panicking like a fucking idiot, running back into work before I'd even properly shut the bin," he scoffs bitterly.

I press his hand between both of mine. "You're not an idiot," I counter. "It's just really difficult right now."

Josh lets out a whimper and his other hand shoots out to my waist, dragging me towards him, seeking physical comfort from me. "It feels like it's going to be like this forever, Nat," he mumbles brokenly. "It happens every day in my head and I hate it. I still hear what they were saying to me, taunting me..."