Siren In The Sky // Bradley Bradshaw

Chapter 4

He did in fact not behave himself. Which is the very reason that I am currently laid back relaxing in the tub while he sits on the bathroom counter. "I can't believe you kicked me out of the bath," he complains for the millionth time. I laugh and roll my eyes. "I told you what would happen if you didn't keep your hands to yourself. You simply chose not to listen." He crosses his arms and grumbles under his breath. Bradley just finished putting on a fresh set of clothes, his wet hair slightly matted to his forehead. "If you stop pouting you might get lucky later," I tease. That certainly perks him up. "Oh really," he says suggestively. I throw my head back in laughter. He's just too easy. 

When I'm done laughing I look at him, not missing the look of adoration that shines in his eyes. How can he possibly look at me like that? My hair is a mess, tied up in a knot at the base of my neck. I know I'm pale, paler than I've ever been, due to the lack of sunlight. My under eye circles have been prominent for weeks giving away just how tired I am. I haven't been working out for obvious reasons. How can he still look at me the way he does? I can barely look at me.

I look away, feeling shy. I idly play with the bubbles around me, relaxing further into the water. I try to focus on the soft music playing and the scent of vanilla wafting through the air but struggle from the feeling of his eyes burning into my profile. "You know I love you, right?" My eyes turn to wards him, a small smile gracing my lips. I expected him to be grinning, joking. Honey brown eyes glinting with playfulness and the dimple on his right cheek prominent. However I'm caught off guard by the seriousness of his face. His jaw set hard and determined, his eyes yearning and pleading. 

My soapy hand reaches out with a mind of its own. Bradley quickly gets up from the counter and grabs it, kneeling on the floor next to the tub. He lifts my palm and rests it against his cheek, nuzzling his face into it before placing a soft kiss on the inside. Just like he always does.

"I know," I whisper. 

He sighs, keeping my hand where it is. He looks up at me through his lashes, sadness creeping into the irises. "I don't think you do." I cast my eyes downwards. "I know that you do. I just- I don't know." Now it's my turn to sigh. "I don't know how to word it." I know he does I just don't understand why is what I want to say. But I don't. I don't want to sound pathetic and insecure. Even if I am. 

"I think you hate yourself." My wide eyes look into his. I withdraw my hand from his grasp, dropping it back into the tub. "What?" I squeak out. He runs a hand through his hair, his brows furrowing as he looks at the water. "I think you hate yourself. And I think because of that you don't think you deserve loved. You don't believe you can be loved." I swallow thickly. My eyes looking anywhere but him. Embarassment burns in my stomach. He's right. Of course he's right. I'm just embarrassed at how easily he could tell. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," I mutter. The water moves as I cross my arms and look in the other direction. You're  in denial a little voice nags me in the back of my head. He reaches into the water and uncrosses my arms so he can hold my hand. I don't fight it but I still refuse to look at him. "I'm not trying to upset you, baby. I just want to help." A sudden spark of anger ripples through me as I rip my hand out of his grasp. "There's nothing to help, I'm fine," I snap. "Baby-" "I'M FINE!" I yell. My hands are in fists, a tiny spark of pain emitting from my fingernails digging into my flesh.

"I want to be alone." I glare at the tile on the wall as I wait for him to leave. He lets out a puff of air and stands up, heading for the door. He opens it but pauses. I can feel him looking at me but I keep looking at the tile. The silence around us is suffocating. Even the deaf would be able to feel it. "Call me if you need anything," he says softly before the door clicks shut behind him. 

I grip the hair at my scalp and pull, rocking back and forth. I shouldn't have yelled. It isn't his fault. It's all my fault. He shouldn't have to deal with this, with me. He's better off without me. I do nothing for him. I'm useless. He can't love me. There's nothing to love. I'm a wreck, a mess. A disaster. I'm unloveable. 

Make it stop. Please make it stop. 

My hands are scratching down my arms. I feel like I'm trying to crawl out of my own body, my own mind. Frustrated tears sting my eyes.

Please stop. Make it stop. I didn't want this. I want things to go back to the way they were. I want my life back. I want myself back. I didn't realize it until now that I lost myself. That every waking moment my mind has been slowly chipping itself away. It feels hard to breathe. My chest tight with anxiety and guilt. So much guilt. How could I do this to him? I've ruined his life. I'm selfish. A hand flies to my chest as it gets harder to breathe. I'm gasping for air with every intake. I need more oxygen. 

Please. Whatever is out there. God, gods, spirits, the universe. Whatever. I beg of you. Please make it stop.

My eyes dart around the room. It feels like its closing in. I quickly pull the plug on the tub for the water to drain. I need to get out of here. I need air. I grip the sides so tightly my knuckles turn white in an attempt to stand. I need to get out. I struggle but once on my foot I attempt to sit on the side and swing my leg over, however, my weight tips it to its side and I fall on the floor. Pain shoots through my right side as I let sobs overtake me while I lay on the cold bathroom floor. 

I'm vaguely aware of Bradley calling my name and running in, probably hearing the loud crash. When he rushes over and comes to my side I don't hesitate to throw my self in his arms. My hands fist his shirt and his arms wrap around me, clutching me to him. "I can't even-" I say between sobs. "I can't even get out of the bath by myself." 

I keep crying into his chest as he runs a hand through my hair, slowly rocking us. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I repeat over and over again. He shushes me, holding me tighter. "You have nothing to be sorry for." I shake my head and pull back to look him in the eye, tears still streaming down my face. "No. I'm mean and selfish. And-and you're better off without me." I'm still gripping his shirt, pleading with him. For what I'm not exactly sure. He just hushes me and pulls me back to his chest. "Try to match my breathing, okay? Can you do that for me?" I nod weakly as my body still shakes from my cries. I feel his chest expand for four seconds, hold for four, and exhale for four. It takes me a while to follow, being interrupted and having to restart everytime a sob breaks free. 

Once my breathing matches his I'm left with this hollow feeling in my stomach as the last few tears trickle down my cheeks. Bradley continues to slowly rock us and run his fingers through my hair. "You're okay. I'm here. I'll always be here." His comforting words surround the space around us. After a while he asks if I want to get up. I can only nod, feeling week and empty. He carefully stands and helps me up before picking me up and setting me down on the bed. I stare off into space and barely register Bradley helping me into one of his t-shirts and a pair of shorts. I finally start to zone in as he changes his own shirt, his last one wet from my tears. 

"I'm sorry." My voice cracks and my bottom lip quivers. He looks up and sits down next to me, pulling me onto his lap to rest my head in the crook of his neck. "It's okay. It's what I'm here for." His warm hands run up and down my back soothingly. "You shouldn't have to be." His hands stop briefly before continuing their movements. "I don't have to. I'm choosing to. You might not believe me but you're the love of my life. I'd do anything for you."  

I pull away so I can look into his eyes. My hands instinctively reach up to brush his hair off of his forehead. "I shouldn't have yelled at you." His lips form a small smile at the edges and he shrugs. "Yell at me all you want. You're hot when you're angry." I smile and shove his shoulder away. He laughs lightly. "There's my girl." Shaking my head I rest my forehead against his, making both of our eyes close. 

"I love you."

"I love you too."