Savior (Scomiche)

Confession

His whole body seemed to freeze. Either that or he went blank. There was so much panic in his eyes, there was a split second where I thought he'd just run. But he didn't. Something in his brain calmed him down first. Maybe, I thought, he's conjuring up some lie. Or maybe, he won't speak at all. I wasn't too sure.

"We should probably discuss this back at the car," Scott said, standing to throw away his empty Dippin Dot container.
A little surprised he was actually going to talk about it, I followed his lead. We walked towards the car, but the air around us seem heavier now. Tainted even. I cursed myself for ruining such a perfect day.
Scott didn't seem to feel the same, though. He said bye to each animal we passed (which was totally adorable) and didn't even tease me for going the wrong way.

When we finally reached the car, I slipped into the passenger seat. He climbed in with a heavy sigh and turned to meet my curious eyes.
"Okay," he breathed out softly. "Why isn't this a date? Why... isn't... this... a date?" He murmured as if he were asking himself.
I watched as he searched for an answer. Just when I thought there really wasn't a particular reason and maybe he was just seriously quiet, he came up with a response.
"I don't really trust people." A weak laugh followed that, but I could tell he wasn't joking.
So I implored further. "Why not?"
A troubled essence surrounded him now, switching from his humdrum, laid-back one. "My past isn't exactly... great."
"That's why it's your past," I retorted. "It isn't your present. It doesn't affect you now, so it shouldn't bother y--"
And for the first time, he interrupted me. He didn't let me continue making stupid, inconsiderate assumptions, which I actually appreciated.

"It does affect me now, Mitch. I'd let it go if I could, but every day it all comes back."
"Is that you're so quiet?" I asked more gently. "Because you think about what happened?"
Scott nodded. "Every day."
But the thing was... he wasn't even down about it. He was so matter-of-fact about it, it made me sad and I had no idea what he'd been through. It could've ranged from a car accident to a murder- I didn't know.

"I'm sorry, Scott."
"You don't have to apologize for something you had nothing to do with. You don't even know what happened."
"Yes, but whatever it is, I'm sorry it did."
This was the longest continuous conversation we had had and I loved it, no matter how downing the topic was. I loved his voice and the way he said things and even the way he interrupted me.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and looked around. Finally, he let out a frustrated sigh.
"You confuse me. Because I want to trust you, but I won't let myself. I haven't met anybody like you before."
"You can trust me." I lifted my hand and set it on top of his. "Really, you can."
Scott didn't remove my hand, but I wasn't so sure he liked it there. There was some inner turmoil churning within him. He looked unsure and even a little bit scared, so I took my hand off in case he wasn't okay with it. I rubbed it on my jeans, uneasily.
"I'm sorry, Mitch. I just don't trust people anymore."
"I'm not people. I told you before. I am just a harmless little robot."
That got him to smile a little. "You can't be. Harmless little robots can't sing like you can."
"How would you know?" I couldn't help the grin taking over all of my features.
His fingers drifted up to run through his hair. "I have a talent for knowing these things."
"Obviously not. My voice has been altered. This isn't my real voice, Scott."
He looked at me doubtfully which honestly just made me giggle. My laugh triggered his, and we spent the next few seconds laughing, releasing nervous tension. I was glad the mood was lightened.
My fingers traced around the black fabric of the seat, not knowing what to say next. He apparently didn't either, but we each knew this date thing wasn't resolved.
We each began to speak at the same time, me about to say something about how it was getting late (a classic line to get end a conversation), but he started to say something else. Hopeful, I insisted he went first.
"I was just going to say I wish this was a date, but... it can't be. I mean... it just... it can't."
As sympathetic as I felt, I didn't want to let it show. Then he'd feel like I pitied him, and I for one, hate that feeling. "That's fine. I mean, if your past is gonna be an issue, I'm definitely not going to force you into anything. I'd like to still hang out, though. And I'm probably not going to stop liking you for a while, so I'm very sorry."
Scott gripped onto his hair with a groan. His tone was almost whiny but not quite. More stressed than anything. "You're making this so hard. Everything in me wants to trust you, wants to date you, wants to feel love again, but-- oh gosh, I don't know. I want to tell you what happened."

I looked at him with wide eyes. He was willing to tell me? He wanted to trust me? He wanted to date me? I could've sworn I was going to have a heart attack my heart was beating so hard. His words were hitting me all at once.
"Oh, you... oh, okay, yeah. You can tell me anything." Nice one, Mitch. "If you're sure you're comfortable."
"Yeah," he said coolly, probably trying to be more confident than he felt. Then more reassuring to himself, "I'm going to tell you what happened."
I gazed at him curiously and waited for him to gain courage. This was taking every ounce of bravery he had; I could see it on his face. Just when I was about to tell him that it was really fine if he'd rather keep it to himself, he spoke.
He cleared his throat and drew his eyebrows together, avoiding my eyes. "I was, uh, abused for about three years in my last relationship."