Pewdiecry: Alone

Chapter 7

Cry

It's been half a year since then. Half a year since he had put those lips against mine.

It doesn't feel that different. We still meet at the park, walking and talking about our likes, dislikes, recent events, anything else we can think of. He goes to his college and studies religiously.

Nothing seemed to have changed.

Except, of course, when we were alone. We would kiss and hold hands. Laugh and play around with each other.

Recently his kisses are becoming a little more intense each time. His tongue would explore my mouth like it was the seventh wonder of the universe. His holds are tight and full of passion. Each time he embraced me like this, warmth spreads through my body. It was a wonderful feeling. A mix of feeling safe and loved. I would explore his mouth just as much. He sometimes moves his hands over my back, stroking my spine and sending shivers running through me. It felt like electricity was coursing through me when he did so. Even with these new developments, it feels like he is holding back. I don't know what he would be holding back, but as we break off he would kiss another part of me. My neck, my head, my cheek. He always backs off afterwards though, still holding my hand or letting me rest on his shoulder. I've even caught him just staring at me when he thought I wasn't looking.

He still gets the images flashing through his mind. They mostly come at night, so I often wonder how he deals with it after waking up from such images. On a brave spurt I asked him what they were like.

I didn't sleep properly for days after that...

To have that kind of image constantly going through your mind... It must be hard on him. But he never shows it. He's always so happy and carefree. I love seeing him smile and laugh.

I still haven't told him about my father... About my past. He doesn't ask for it either. I think he's waiting on me to feel right about telling him. I haven't shown him my face. I've tried. When I'm at his and alone, I'll reach behind my head and loosen the buckle. The metal jingle as it comes undone sets my heart racing. My breathing becomes shallow as the panic sets in and by the time that the mask is inches from my face, I'm ready to faint. I have to put it back on. The thought of taking it off when he was near was terrifying. What if he hurts me?

He would never harm you.

I know that. And yet the panic and the fear still kick in. I can't stop it. I feel so calm around him and yet, I still can't take the mask off. I stress about it all the time. He wants to see my face, but what if I can't show it to him? What if I can never take the mask off.

We'll work it out, together.

He had said that. And I believed him. He was waiting for me to be ready. He's been waiting for 6 months.

Its admirable, for him to stay with me and to be so patient.

But I wonder just how long that patience can last.

Pewds

God, I wanted him.

I wanted him so fucking bad.

No. I have to be patient.

He's not ready for that.

I sit on the edge of my bed and hold my head in my hands. The frustration is killing me. I don't know what to do. It's becoming more difficult to restrain myself. Then kisses are becoming more intense. I can feel it. I just can't stop it. But the flustered look on his face each time we break off...