close to my dialling heart

11🌹kiss it better

🎶when my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave can hold my body down. I crawl home to her🎶
                          ~Hozier~

XAVIER 🥀

With her back facing me, I couldn't help but notice the curves and edges of her body aligned against the cover. She only covered her lower half, accentuating her slender waist, which her shirt clung to. She was breathtakingly beautiful, yet seemingly unaware of it.

I thought to myself, maybe sleeping next to her wasn't such a good idea after all. My hormones were raging, urging me to touch her, to wrap my hands around her tiny waist, and to do all sorts of crazy things to her. Just then, she peeked at me over her shoulder, "Are you sleeping?" she asked.

"No," I replied, trying to sound calm despite the turmoil inside me.

I forced my gaze towards the ceiling, trying to distract myself from Dove's allure. "Hey, can I use your laptop?" I asked, attempting to sound nonchalant. "Sure, it's on the table," she replied, pointing with her index finger. "Thanks."

I crawled off her bed and walked over to the study table, where her laptop sat amidst a pile of books. She had personalized it with stickers, most of which had prayer quotes - a detail that didn't surprise me.

I settled into the chair and opened her laptop. "Do you mind coming to insert your password?" I asked, looking over at her. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, struggling to stay open. "It's Psalms 86 verse 12," she murmured, her voice drowsy. "86 in Arabic numerals, then the verse in words, and 12 in Arabic numerals," she added, her words slurred with exhaustion.

Everything Dove did seemed to be infused with her religious beliefs, a rarity among girls her age that I had met. The last time I encountered someone so devoted to God was fifteen years ago - my mother. She would take me to church and pray with me every night. But one fateful encounter changed everything, leaving my world in shambles. If there was a God, wouldn't He have prevented what happened to her? I remember pleading with God for her to live longer, but instead, the opposite occurred. They say everything happens for a reason, but what kind of reason could justify such pain, fear, and trauma? My experience only brought darkness, and I struggled to find any good in it. Lost in thought, I found myself staring at Dove's wallpaper without even realizing it. The photo showed her with her grandmother, likely taken on her graduation day, judging by the gown she wore.

As I conducted my own research on her laptop, I was interrupted by a faint whimpering sound filling the room, like someone was crying. My brows furrowed in concern. The whimpering escalated into sobbing, and I couldn't ignore it. I turned to face Dove, and my heart went out to her.

She was trembling in her sleep, tears streaming down her face as she clutched her cover tightly. I immediately stood up to check on her. I was worried about her. As soon as I sat beside her, she jolted awake with a gasp, wrapping her arms around me tightly. She was shivering and shaking, with beads of sweat on her forehead.

"Help," she sobbed, her body shaking uncontrollably against my chest. "Hey, you're okay. You're fine, alright?" I reassured her, wrapping my arms around her and stroking her soft hair with one hand.

After a few minutes of holding each other, Dove finally relaxed, though her sniffles persisted. Our arms remained entwined, hers around me and mine around her. "Please don't go," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm scared." Her breathing was still labored, but she managed to catch some air. "I won't," I reassured her, though she had asked me to leave earlier.

"Sleep now," I encouraged, and she gazed at me with glassy eyes before nodding. "Will you leave after I fall asleep?" she asked, her lips quivering. She was so frightened that she didn't even seem to care that our faces were inches apart. "Do you want me to?" I asked, and she shook her head. "Then I'll be right here," I promised. "Thank you," she whispered, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.