Call Me Six

48: 'Soap' -Tris

TRIS-

I couldn't stop it - the overwhelming feeling of guilt that was running through my veins.  And even though Tobias was holding me, and I felt safe, I could still feel his hands. Everywhere.

The hands that tore through me. The hands that left deep purple marks. The hands that held me down. The hands that rendered me useless.

Just a generic slut.

And although I tried, the tears kept falling, soaking through Tobias' shirt. I don't want him to see me like this. I don't want him to have to spend one more second with me.

I'd fucked up... Literally.

It's not that I was sobbing anymore, though. I was calm, but the tears just kept rolling.

His fingers dragged softly through my tangled hair as his other hand stroked across my back in a soothing manner. This comfort which I didn't deserve was so gentle, as I he feared I might snap in half, or shatter into hundreds and thousands of little pieces.

I'd like that; to just fade away into fragments of dust right now.

I don't want to stand here and soak in the undeserved affection.

My arms were hanging loosely at my sides as my legs threatened to buckle and give way. And like a rag-doll, they did. I was falling and didn't give a damn. If the earth decided to swallow me up, I'd let it.

But he caught me, his arms scooping up under my knees and back and cradling me against his chest.

"What have I done?" I sobbed and hung limp in his arms.

His lips brushed my hairline and I flinched away. "Please don't..." I whispered, my voice hoarse and cracking. "I don't want to dirty you."

I want to sink. I want to sink to the bottom of the ocean where the sunlight doesn't shine and the birds won't find me and just lay there.

We're moving, soft, steady footsteps carrying us through the house.

As we entered the bathroom, and he turned the lights on, I had to pretend I didn't hear the fair gasp. It's bright, everything clearly lit up unlike the dim hallway.

He placed me down on the toilet seat, his fingers tracing against my jaw and he lifted my chin, giving me a look of "you're going to be okay."

He turned to the bath, and the sound of running water filled the silence.

It stayed this way for a while. I, sat on the toilet seat, and he, haunched over the bath, his back to me.

The room silenced once more and he turned to me. Taking my hands gently, he guided me up and over to the freshly filled tub. He stepped in, one foot at a time into the shallow water. And I followed, mimicking his actions until he were both standing, shin-deep in the warm water, locked in each other's gaze. He sat down, gently coaxing me with him.  Our legs curled either side of the other in order to fit.

We were both still clothed. But it didn't matter.

He sunk my hands into the water, gently rubbing circles into my knuckles and releasing the tension. The cold chill of soap was added and he continued; not once looking away from me, with that gaze that promised hope.

Mint soap. A smell I'd grown to adore and recognise ever since I was fourteen and first, fully got to know Tobias Eaton, filled the room. It wasn't a sweet smell, but it was fresh, and crisp. It smelled like him; and the safety and courage he possessed.

I believed him when he told me I was safe.

I believed him when he told me everything was going to be okay.