The Last Chicane

Memories and Melodies

I woke up to soft kisses on my shoulder, where my tattoo is.

"Bonjour chéri." Charles whispered.

I cracked one of my eyes open to him grinning at me, his dimples showing.

"Morning," I whispered back. I rolled over and he leaned up against the headboard so I could rest my head on his chest. I could hear his heart beating steadily.

I closed my eyes as he started tracing circles on my back with his hand. He didn't say anything else for a while. We just enjoyed being in each others company.

I had dozed back off to sleep for a bit. When I woke up, I could feel him staring at my tattoo. I knew that he had seen the scar that it was covering up and I was just waiting for him to ask me about it.

"Okay. Go ahead and ask whatever it is that you're thinking. Because whatever it is, it's killing you." I looked up at him.

"I just.... Want to make sure you aren't having any second thoughts about anything." He said slowly. He wouldn't make eye contact with me, his eyes looking everywhere in the room except at me.

I reached up, grabbing his chin, slowly turning his head until he looked at me again. I leaned up and gave him a kiss.

"How do you say 'no regrets' in French?" I asked him.

"Pas de regrets."

I smiled. "Pas de regrets." Repeating him. "I wouldn't change a single thing that's happened. Would you?"

He tilted his head, really thinking about it. "Not a thing. I just get worried about you. I know you hate voicing your feelings. Even if you weren't okay you wouldn't let anyone know."

Charles knew my biggest struggles. I had told him about how my parents never allowed me to voice my feelings or opinions, and how it has really affected me now that I'm an adult. Childhood trauma and abuse really does follow you into adulthood.

I knew it was really bothering him, especially because he thought that I wouldn't tell him if I wasn't okay.

I held up my pinky for him. "I pinky promise. I'm okay. And I also pinky promise that if something is ever wrong, I'll tell you. As long as you promise to be patient with me, I'll do my best to work on it. "

His gaze caught on my pinky. "Okay." We locked pinkies

"Good." I leaned my head back down on his chest. "I really don't want to get up.... Can we just stay in bed all day?" I asked.

His chuckle echoed through me from my head resting on him. "We can do whatever you want today. Especially since you only have a few more days before you head back home."

My stomach dropped at his last statement. I was t ready to leave him. I was just starting to get use to this world. His world.

I was quiet for a bit.

He started tracing my tattoo on my shoulder. I could tell he wanted to ask me about it.

"You can ask, ya know?"

After a moment he replied, "Are you sure? I don't want to push you. I only want you to tell me when you're ready."

I held up my pinky. "I'm ready. Pinky promise."

"Soooo.... How did you get your scar?" He asked softly.

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. "Where to begin?" I asked myself.

"My last relationship was... unhealthy. I had started dating him right before my parents kicked me out. He had a really bad drug and drinking problem."