Reflection (Artemi Panarin)

Questions

-Taylor's POV-

I was sitting on the couch facing the window watching the night life unfold in front of my eyes. It's crazy to think about the millions of people in this city living so coherently yet everyone was so different. These people don't care about their problems, they're just making their way in the big city. Chicago is great for me. My problems seem so... Small. People get hurt every day, why would I think my life would be any easier here? Another lesson I've learned, don't pray for a easy life. Pray for the strength to endure a hard one. It's one of the many things I realized over the years. Something I wish I didn't have to learn but I'm glad I did. But this whole 'not being able to sleep' thing is getting old. If it's not the unbearable pain it's the fact my brain never shuts off and I'm officially over it. I can't remember the last time I've gotten over 7 hours of sleep in a given night.

I continue to stare out the window in silence. That was until I heard a knock on the door. Knowing I wasn't about to have anything better to do I get up to open it. Artemi is revealed behind the door with my notebooks and a bouquet of roses.

"I'm glad you finally locked the door" he says coming in.

"Yeah, this crazy Russian dude and his friends kept coming in so I decided to start locking it" I chuckle finding a vase for the flowers.

He shakes his head and hands me the flowers, "so rude, remind me why I like you again?"

I look up, trying to find an answer. "I don't know. Probably because my rock hard ass" I joke grabbing him a water out of the fridge. "So what brings you by at... 12:01 in the morning" I ask sitting on a stool across from him on the island.

"Well, no-contact day was technically yesterday..." he starts. "And I have a few more questions" he finishes. I figure he would. The papers were the 'what' part of the incident but not the 'why'.

"Okay, ask away" I say.

"When did it start getting really bad" he wonders softly.

"Senior year. I went to the doctors but they told me there was nothing they could do to help unless I quit so I took that as keep going and hope for the best" I shrug.

"Were you scared" he asks as I laugh at the thought of how scared I was.

"I was terrified. Never knowing if when I woke up if I could walk again. Having to tell every one I was fine even though I felt like I was just ran over by a car then told to practice. Every time I take a step my knee gives out and it takes everything in me not to let it just to let it give out and fall to the ground. Every time I got hurt I thought it was going to happen all over again. The surgery and emotional strain of not being able to compete, I couldn't do that again. Most of all I was scared that it would never get better. I had every right to be" I admit.

"How come you never asked for help" he asks a bit upset that I did this to myself.

"I did. But what's worse that fighting by yourself is asking questions and not getting the answers you want. Or opening up and feeling worse than when you started. My teammates saw what was happening but never interfered. My coaches would rather have me compete for them that let me get better. My mom didn't know anything, I was blowing up right under her nose. I let my hopes get up and so they fell too hard" I explain.

"How come you won't let yourself get angry? You have every right to be angry" he claims.

"That's all I used to have. Just pure anger. It got me nowhere. I learned anger leads to rash decision making and regret. I'd rather be fake happy than real angry" I nod.

"Okay. Last question. In eight years the only way you opened up was when you wrote in these. Why are you showing this to me?"

I smile over to him as he waits for me to answer. "Because, Art. I see the person I wish I could be in you. You're set up to do great things in this life. You understand the potential you have to help others without losing yourself in the way. To be honest I'm jealous. You can ask for help so easily. You wake up with so much hope. The only thing I hope for is strength and that I'll be able to help someone that day" I say softly trying to hold back the sniffles.

"It's okay to cry, Taylor" he assures me.

"I've cried more than enough tears. I don't know if I have any tears left" I say walking into my room. I set my notebooks on my desk and lay in my bed.

"I know this is hard for you. I know you're trying. But I'll always be here for you. Whether we're just friends, married, or divorced. You're special not just to me, but in general. I can't lose you" he said laying next to me.

"Do you want to stay the night" I ask turning on my side so I was facing him.

"I mean you're bed is pretty comfy" he says fluffing a pillow.

"You mean the couch" I ask with a eyebrow cocked. The look on his face was priceless. "I'm kidding Art. Please don't leave".

Did I really just say that? Did I just willingly beg for someone. This is new. He must of noticed my shock because he came back into my room after he was done pouting and closed the door. He took off his shirt leaving him in basketball shorts. I take off my shorts and tank top and change into a Artemis shirt he just shed. It was a bit big but felt just right. I crawled under the sheet and he soon joined me. I laid there staring at the ceiling.

"Can I ask a question" I ask hoping to get a answer.

"Of course" he replies scooting closer.

"Of the 22 years I've been alive I've never had someone care about me the way you do. My parents cared cause they had to but that's about it. Why do you care about me" I ask a little bit scared to know the answers. I'm still scared to ask things because I never get the answer I want.

"Because Taylor, up until I met you I all but gave up on people. Generally speaking I only talked to people if it was about hockey. But talking to you made me feel alive. You saw things in me people never see. And the way you talked to other people. I knew you were different and I just had to get to know you. And I did and it turns out you were just what I needed when I needed it the most. You took me in and helped me become the best me I can be. No one else can do that" he says turning on his side so we were face to face. I closed my eyes processing what I just heard. No one has ever talked to me like that. I opened my eyes to see he was significantly closer to my face.

"It's you and me kid" was all I needed to say for him to connect his lips to mine. This was a guy who started as a friend, then a boyfriend, and is now my best friend. We were on this journey together and re-writing our story.

His hands find my waist to pull me closer and I let my hands rest on his chest, letting them rise and fall with his breathing. Reluctantly we pull away but I keep my eyes closed, too scared to open them.

"Look at me" Artemi demands. I opened my eyes to be met with sparkling blue ones. His face illuminated by the night life I've fallen so in love with. His hair crazy, just the way I liked it. His lips were full and soft. His eyes searched my face for any sign of problems. I couldn't help but smile at his concern.

"You know pat is going to freak right" I say thinking about how he still thinks he set Artemi and I up.

"That's okay. Him dressed as Elsa will make it that much better." I roll my eyes at the thought of Patrick as a Disney princess. I turn to my back and let out a sigh. There's so much in my life I want to do and now I have the people who can help me accomplish it. I look back at Artemi one last time to see him half asleep. I lean over to peck his lips and he cracks a smile. I smile to myself and let myself go to sleep without fear about waking up the next morning for the first time in eight years.