Love, Demi (lesbian story)

How You Remind Me

Demi's POV

It was pretty late by the time we left Rose's place. Apparently discussing baby names takes up the entire afternoon, we didn't actually leave there until around 8pm. Saph drove us to the nearest McDonald's as we were all starving, and Lia went in to get our stuff for us so I didn't have to get out and face the public, and also so I wasn't left alone in the car. It was a pretty silent drive home from then, we ate, and then there was no conversation for the rest of the journey, just the low hum of the radio playing, filling the silence. I'd noticed Lia had been acting pretty off ever since we left Rose's, she became quite quiet at some point while we were there, I couldn't figure out what was wrong though, it was an innocent conversation, I just couldn't pinpoint what had possibly triggered her. I didn't say anything though. I knew she didn't like to talk about her feelings when she was around Saph and Rose because they had witnessed her at her worst, and worry so much about her still even though she's come so far since then. I just decided to wait until we were back at the house and away from anyone to bring it up.

*****

"Night guys." Saph waved to Lia and I after finishing up in the bathroom and was standing by her bedroom door, clearly she was tired. We were sat on the couch beside one another, both looking round to see her.
"Night!" We called at the same time. Saph vanished into her room and I let out a sigh, and turned my head to Lia. She had a completely blank expression on her face, and was staring straight forward at the wall, subconsciously nibbling on her thumb nail. She was thinking, and it wasn't good thoughts.
"What are you thinking about baby?" I asked her, keeping my voice soft, not wanting to make her jump out of her trance. She didn't move, or even blink. Not for a few seconds anyway, then she turned her head to me slightly but turned away and stood up.
"Nothing." She mumbled, before walking away from me and going upstairs. I frowned a little, wondering why she'd just walked away. Did she honestly think I'd be satisfied with that answer and give up? She can't have done, she knows I'll ask relentlessly until I get an answer, and I know she'd do the same if the roles were reversed. I followed her up to her room, which was empty, which meant she was in her bathroom. I put my phone down on the nightstand, putting it on charge, and pushed open the bathroom door slowly. I couldn't hear the shower running, or really any movement, and in moods like this she'll sit on the floor, she always does.

"Lia?" I said her name quietly, peeking my head round the door to find her sitting with her legs pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them, her chin resting on the top of her knees. Again, she didn't move. I slid through the gap in the door, not wanting to squash her with it. I closed it behind me and plopped myself down next to her, and just listened to her breathing for a while. This was something I often did if I thought she was anxious, her breathing sometimes falters when she gets anxious because she thinks about too many things and it becomes overwhelming.

In the time that I've known Lia, I've been mentally taking notes on the little things she does that I just so happen to notice, like the way she plays with her fingers when she's nervous, how she bites her nails, stares off into space, and gets really jumpy when she's anxious. I learnt on the first day I met her that she plays with her sleeves when she feels insecure about her scars, or is conscious of them, or has urges. The way I know her is like the way Marissa knows me, she knows all the little things to look out for, and we've known each other for years. Lia and I have only known each other for just under 6 months.

"What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?" I whispered, leaning my head back against the wall.
"Jackson. My father. Jackson. My father." Lia spoke, repeating herself over again. I was hoping that when she spoke it would be to tell me the problem, but apparently not.
"What about them?" I asked her. What could she possibly be comparing between Jackson and her father?
"Rose can't lose him." She spoke again.
"Baby what do you mean?" I kept asking her. I just didn't understand what the link was between them.
"He reminds me of everything my father wasn't," She finally said something that made sense to me. "Jackson isn't even a dad yet, not properly, and already he's doing a better job than my father did." She explained.
"You're upset because-"
"I'm not upset." She cut me off, denying her feelings.
"Sorry." I whispered. She let her head drop and shook it as she did.
"I don't even know what this feeling is. I have so much respect for Jackson, and so much shame in my father. What he was saying about his unborn baby earlier just triggered something for me, like the opposite. Every nice thing that Jackson said, I remembered something vile my father would say to me. It all came back and it takes so much to push that away again." She opened up to me.

As I listened to her, certain things she said really stood out to me. It was hard for her to push it away. She never faced the memories she had of her father, they were still buried and resurfacing somewhere inside her, and having personally spent a lot of the past year in therapy, I know for a fact that you have to face your fears, not run from them. But she was doing exactly that; running. But the thing about that, is that you can run, and run, for as long as you like, but you'll never move from the spot if you don't let go of the things weighing you down.

(A/N: will be updating next week :D )