Dont Help Me

Chapter 16

"...Do it again."

I lay nervously for a few seconds, awaiting her response. Why did I say that? I am so close to her that I can feel her breath on my lips, and I can almost see the tension in the air. Then she breaks it, a little smile creeps onto her face, dimples fully on show,

"Really?"

"Really."

Her arms move tighter around the back of my neck, kneading the flesh above my shoulder blades,

"Are you sure?" Cheryl bites nervously on her bottom lip, and nervously pecks me on the lips again.

"No. I'm not sure Cheryl...but I don't care if I'm sure."

She lets a little grin appear on her face as I lean in, and I feel my voice hitch in my throat as our lips collide. It isn't rushed, it isn't a 'thankyou' kiss, but it isn't familiar either. I stifle a moan as her mouth opens, leaving her tongue mine for the taking. I let her slide her tongue into my mouth, and gently our tounges dance together, creating a sort of rhythm that neither of us dare interrupt. She slowly runs her hands up and down my back, before resting them just above my behind and pulling me closer. She groans, and I feel the vibrations echo all of the way through my body. Suddenly, as if stopped by the sound of her own moans, she pulls away, a distant look in her eyes.

"What's wrong Chez?" I ask, still slightly out of breath, "Chez?"

She is turned slightly to the side now, still underneath me, playing with the cuffs of her pyjamas,

"Nothin'. Doesn't matter." She grumbles out as her brow creases.

"Cheryl, it does matter. I need to know what's up. This involves me too you know? Did that not...feel right?"

She turns quickly to face me, grabbing my hands in hers and kissing them quickly yet tenderly,

"No, no. That's not it."

"Then what is it Cheryl? Cause if you don't mind me saying, I'm slightly confused."

She drops my hands and starts unconciously chewing on her lip again,

"If you think you're confused you should see my brain right now Kimba."

"I thought you didn't want me to see into your mind." I reply, relaying last nights' conversation. She breathes out slowly, but doesn't say a word.

"Please Cheryl, did that feel wrong? Was it bad? Is it me?" I beg,

"No. It's not that it felt wrong Kimba."

"Then what was it?"

She turns face down into the cushion, not wanting to make eye contact,

"It's not that it felt wrong. It - it felt right. Too right. I can't do it."

She faces me again after she says this, a hazy glow in her eyes, tears only stopped by the barrier of her own will, trying desperately not to let any slip, let any free, and show me just how weak she is. But I see it. Her bottom lip is quivering as she runs her hands through my golden hair, gallantly holding her gaze with my eyes,

"I'm sorry. I can't."

And that was all that she needed to say.

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CHERYL'S POV

Silence. It should be calming, but instead it is like a constant buzzing in your ear, drowned out screams that suddenly present themselves in full force, echoing all of your problems on by one. Me mind ticks, slowly, cautiously, then frantically again. Going through every detail of me life. Everything I have ever done wrong, everything that has ever happened to us, whatever I may have missed, and screaming it in my ear until I can't take the silence anymore.

And then there she is, laying next to us with an uncertain smile on her face, tapping her feet against my thigh to a beat. A slow, sensual beat. The kind of beat that shows concentration, confusion, with just a hint of sadness, and last of all, hope. Anger? Fear? I'm not too sure at this point.

She taps the rhythm out, one, two, one, two, three four, one. One, two... In a recoccuring cycle, never missing a beat. By the look on her face I can tell that she is in deep thought, perhaps pondering on the same things that I had been. Perhaps she was thinking of me. But whilst our bodies are so close together, our minds couldn't be more seperate. But our hearts, I am sure, are somewhere in the middle.

The beat stops, and I wait anxiously for her next words, begging for her to break the silence of my screaming. But she doesn't. She pauses, and picks up the rhythm again, perhaps a subconcious tapping to the pace of her own thoughts, but she doesn't speak. For the next hour I'm certain not a word is sounded, the only noise being the ticking in me brain, one, two, one, two, three four, one. One, two.

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KIMBERLEY'S POV

I can tell that she is thinking, the line on her brow and the cute little pout fixed firmly on her face confirming it. Maybe she is thinking about me? I don't know. Maybe she is thinking about him? God only knows. Maybe I should be thinking about him? I should know.

As I am laying here however, her hunched by my side, I realise that she is the only thing on my mind. Not him. Not my problems. Not even the burnt bacon still sitting on the stove. All I can do is think of her, as I mindlessly tap out the beat that my heart seems to be playing for me.

I glance over to see Cheryl looking down at her phone, staring at the call button. As if knowing that I am watching her, she clears her throat and speaks up,

"Me Mam. I was gonna call me Mam."

I sigh inwardly, silently thanking god that she wasn't calling anyone else.

She sticks our her hand blind, and somehow she finds mine, linking our fingers,

"Kimba, I know you're mad but can you - can ya stay with me?"

I shuffle over to her and kiss her softly on the shoulder,

"I'm not mad Chez."

I look into her eyes and nod my head. Then she slowly reaches the tip of her finger out and presses the call button...