Consequences

16. the deal

"We should make a deal," Axl suggests, his voice slightly muffled by the floor as his words are spoken against it.

"What do you mean?" I ask with furrowed brows although he can't see it. My fingers continue to knead his warm skin along the back of his neck and shoulder blades as I sit on his back with my knees resting on either side of his body.

"Well..." he begins, turning his head to the side while propping himself up on his forearms in front of his chest. "We could do each other favors like this. You give me massages and I'll do something for you. What do you like?"

I twist my lips to the side in deep thought, pondering over his question as I drag my palms down his back. I find myself becoming intrigued with the idea of massaging Axl again for more than one reason. Firstly, the view from my position is indescribable; his long hair pushed aside for better access, nearly invisible freckles scattered across the top of his back, muscular arms resting above his head when he allows himself to rest fully while I make an effort to loosen the numerous knots beneath his taut skin. Secondly, his skin feels eternally warm and smooth as I run my hands across his broad shoulders and further down his back. Thirdly, he seems to very much enjoy the whole scenario according to the various groans he emits when I apply extra pressure on certain spots. Fourthly, a tiny fraction of me sits excitedly with crossed fingers because he must be expecting me to stay for quite a while since he wants to make such a deal.

He strains his neck to give me an encouraging crooked smile which I return. "I guess I like when people do my hair," I decide suddenly, knowing it'll be the best answer I can come up with.

"Alright. I've never actually done anyone's hair before, but I could give it a go," he chuckles, lowering his head once again with a satisfied look on his face.

When we woke up a few hours ago, our limbs had been completely and utterly tangled together as we held onto each other for dear life. My experience with having someone cradle me so preciously at night is very limited, but as I laid there in my sleepy state it became clear to me that it was exactly what I had needed. The way Axl's smell engulfed me, his warmth radiating off him before settling into every cell in my body was overwhelming, to say the least.

I had had a nightmare. Most of my nightmares contain memories of the past, certain events happening over and over again in my sleep until I eventually wake up bathed in sweat with a pounding heart. This nightmare was different, though. It wasn't about the incident from six years ago or the outcome that's sure to come someday, it was about my father stumbling into Axl's apartment with a gun in his hand and a bottle of liquor in the other. My mind was jumbled when my eyes shot open, ragged breaths leaving my mouth as I frantically tried to calm myself, but when realization dawned upon me I immediately clung onto the body beside me with all my strength. It had only been a nightmare, my father wasn't here in the apartment and I was safe in Axl's arms.

My sudden awakening had caused him to stir in his sleep and he strengthened his grip around me as if he could sense my uneasiness, mumbling incoherent whispers into my hair before pulling me into a peaceful slumber for another couple of hours.

Once we'd gotten out of bed he had suggested we did something to get my mind off of things, even though I didn't mention my nightmare to him. It appeared to me he was more than aware of my vague apprehension as we ate breakfast and watched pointless TV shows, because he would place his hand above my knee and squeeze reassuringly occasionally. My attention did eventually avert from their gloomy directions as Axl continued to ramble about how he really isn't supposed to eat pizza for breakfast, but he also couldn't care less.

At some point he had started scratching his back before complaining about his arm hurting from the odd angle. Therefore, I timidly took it upon me to help him out. Within minutes he had moved from the couch to lie on his stomach on the floor, practically begging me to massage him. I gave in fairly quickly.