The Pacifist

Candles

Rachel

Rachel couldn't mask how deflated she felt when she got home, and her father noticed. She mumbled a quick hello and rushed to her room to avoid any further interrogation. Once she was in the privacy of her room, she reached up to touch her shoulder. It was still extremely tender from Joseph's bite, and she sighed happily. Closing her eyes, she replayed the moment where his teeth first touched her shoulder and the increasing pain and he had gradually bitten down harder. The feeling that flowed through her couldn't be named but she was okay with it because for once, it felt good.

There was a raging storm within Joseph Maxwell, and Rachel wanted to weather it. Everything came alive in her then, in that moment where she envisioned getting lost in pain and passion. That kind of excitement had been lost to her for a long time, and she wanted nothing else than to bask in its glow.

She went to her closet and pulled out clothes she had abandoned long ago. There had been a point when she was expressive in everything she did, right down to her clothing. Rachel had loved wearing bright-colored bohemian skirts with embroidered linen tops and over-sized sweaters. And there had almost always been a flower in her hair from the garden whenever it was in bloom.

Maybe it's time to rediscover who I am. She looked at the pile of neglected clothes and for the first time, in a very long time, felt a glimmer of hope. Hope that maybe she could be happy and could feel things without them breaking her down.

Her father knocked on her door and went in. He eyed the pile of clothes and Rachel saw a light of recognition. "Are you getting rid of them?"

Rachel shook her head with a smile. "No, I want to wear them again."

His eyes widened with surprise. "That's amazing, sweetheart!"

"Yeah, I'm ready to live again, Dad." The guilt that pinched at Rachel's heart when she saw her father tear up because of her was brief, because now, her father's eyes watered with hope and not fear.

"This is the best news I've had all year." He caught himself. "But no matter what..."

"I know, I know. You'll love and support me. No pressure, I know."

"Good."

Joseph's call didn't come for about a week, but Rachel didn't worry. She believed in his promise and waited patiently. That didn't stop the overwhelming rush of excitement when the call did finally come.

"Are you free tonight?" he asked, forgoing his usual manner of assuming she would be available for the times he suggested.

"I am."

He gave her an address and instructed her to arrive at eight in the evening, then hung up without saying goodbye. Rachel hugged her phone and looked towards her closet. Would he like me still, she wondered, now that she had decided to unmute herself. The self doubt was short-lived, because confidence in his interest in her quickly replaced it. She went to her closet and like everyday for the last week, was momentarily surprised by the explosion of color behind the door. She chose a plaid, wool skirt and paired it with a cable knit, crop sweater. She loved how soft she looked, instead of the harsh, cool and sophisticated look she had opted for for the last while.