Searching For Sawyer

|8| Some Almost Confessions

Chapter 8

His coarse hands wrap around my thighs, the cold knuckles banding the skin tight. I whimper, squeezing my eyes shut. His hands suddenly grip my hair and tug. Hard. A shriek falls from my mouth before I can stop it. His harsh breathing dulls itself as the sound of a slap resonates through the cave's walls.

"Be quiet," his voice echoes in my ear prompting me to let out a cold shiver. "Just relax." his taunting words settle in the air.

He rips my shirt, exposing my bra. I turn my head away as he leers over me. Disgusting.

He begins tracing the trim of my bra. "Very nice," he pauses, waiting on my response. I don't give him one. "Suit yourself," he pauses, "Now what should I do with thes?." His thick fingers trail along the band of my shorts.

"No. Please no." my croaking voice lightly begs.

"No? Lucky for me, I wasn't asking." his response comes out teasing, but I could hear the threat lurking amongst his words. The sound of my shorts ripping echoes, mocking me. I hold back another cry, panic quickly settling in my veins as he runs nails along the lace of my underwear.

"No no no. Please no!" I scream, as my body shakes and sweat coats itself upon my skin.

•••

"Fuck, Sawyer. Wake up!"

My eyes shoot open, whilst my whole body shakes. Sobs wreck my body as I remember. Remember what that bastard did.

I dimly feel warm arms circling around my shaking body. I curl up to a chest, seeking comfort, not caring where I get it from. I clutch onto his thin shirt, the smell and warmth of him settling my mind.

After ten minutes, I gradually calm down. The aftermath of my breakdown catching up to me and I blush at what Cabe must have seen. You're so pathetic Sawyer.

Cabe's arms are still wrapped around me and are legs lay intertwined. I slowly remove my head from where it lay nestled in his neck and glance at his face. My eyes meet his and the concern and worry leaves me speechless.

He shouldn't care. Why does he have to fucking care.

I clear my throat and retract my arms from against his chest. My legs quickly follow suit. His calculating stare holds me from leaving. He wants an explanation, that much is clear. His voice quickly proves my suspicions.

"What's wrong? Why did you freak out like that? What happened?" his soft voice probes into me. What the fuck do I say? I have no idea how to create some sort of excuse for what happened. I fucking broke down in front of him; the tears that stain his shirt are evidence enough.

"I don't know what to say. I can't tell you. I can't even process it myself, let alone admit to it out loud." my eyes silently beg for him to understand and just drop it.

He looks away and focuses on the carpeted floor. Disappointment is clear in his stature, making mine fill with guilt.

I know he deserves some sort of explanation for everything, after all, he's done so much for me. But I don't want to taint his view of me, selfish as it is, I don't want his face to show the disgust and shame I deserve. I can't tell him. At least not yet.

I clear my throat, desperate to break the tension. "I guess I'll leave to-" he cuts me off mid sentence.

"No. Don't do that. Don't act like what just happened was nothing. Please. Fucks sake, I'll drop it. But not for long. I know whatever the fuck happened to you was bad. You can't hide that; the bruises, the ripped clothes, the nightmares. I'll wait for whatever the fuck you need to be able to trust me. I respect that." his voice is rough, frustrated. His eyes fiercely stare into my own, the intensity burning my skin. I gulp, unsure of how to respond to his words. I slowly nod instead.

I finally break eye contact with him and take a chance to scan his clothes. He's just wearing some jeans and a black fitted shirt. Of course; his unlucky shirt is soaked with my tears. It clings to his skin, slightly outlining his abs.

It may be unlucky for that shirt, but it's definitely lucky for me.

"Um, so do you have something I can change into or.." I trail off, not quite sure how to finish that question. Is it okay for me to ask him for more clothes? The line of what's not acceptable and what is between us, is slightly blurred at this point.

"Oh, right. I'll grab you something." he answers, saving me from further embarrassment. He begins rooting through his drawers, and I take the chance to quickly glance at myself in the mirror. I let out a low gasp. Shit.

My once prided hair is a mess, there are so many tangles that I can't even begin to count. My eyes have bags and are covered in red splotches, due to the unnecessary amount of tears I've suffered. There are bruises dotted around my neck, a multitude of different colours, and my skin is pasty white- effectively making me look like a ghost. All in all, I look like utter shit and am in desperate need of a shower.

Cabe's voice breaks me from my staring. "Here: it's just some sweats and a shirt. They might be big, but they were mine from years ago, so they should fit okay." he finally lets out a general smile, his dimples once again rendering me speechless for a few seconds.

"Oh-uh, thanks. Um, do you think I could take a shower or something?" my wary voice questions him.

"Of course, if you remember where it was, you can use the bathroom from last night." a small smirk fixes itself upon his lips, clearly remembering the adventures of the night before.

Red once again coats my cheeks. "Yeah um, I remember." I report to him. Before he can say anything else, I quickly swivel round and march towards the very much desired shower.

As I'm leaving the room, I hear his light chuckle, and can't help but allow a large smile to break across my face. I quickly push it away, before frowning. 

What the fuck are you doing to me Cabe Birch?

•••

Hope you enjoy reading this. I don't really have anything else to say except just that! 

- Valerie