Yes Please || c.g. {complete}

Comparisons

24

.Carl.

When I walked back into her apartment an hour or so later, she was leaning against the kitchen counter, staring off into space as she stirred a cup of coffee with no more steam coming off of it. She abruptly looked up at me, setting the mug down behind her.

"Hi," she said softly. She sounded insecure.

I smiled at her as I sat on the couch to untie my shoes. "Hi."

There was an awkward pause as both of us alternated gazes between each other and various inanimate objects around the room.

"Are you okay?" she finally asked, still quiet and seemingly unsure of how to interact with me.

"Me?" I asked incredulously. Fuck. I was being weird right now and I had managed to make my girlfriend, the rape victim, feel like she had to comfort me. I hated myself. "Don't worry about me, Layla. Are you okay?"

She shrugged, walking over toward me and sitting down next to me on the couch. "Honestly, that was the first time I confronted any of those feelings apart from the immediate aftermath. And even then, I moved to suppress them as fast as I could."

I nodded, still feeling like a piece of shit.

"It was painful to relive it," she admitted, exhaling as she looked down at her hands.

It was painful to imagine it, I wanted to say. "I'm sorry," I whispered instead.

"My friends have been really supportive," she said in a slightly more upbeat tone.

"That's good," I replied, trying my best to show enthusiasm.

She got off the couch and knelt on the floor in front of me. "That's because of you, Carl!" she smiled, gripping my knees.

I couldn't even manage a smile as I looked anywhere else but at her. The last time she'd been in this position it was to give me a blowjob. I was ashamed for even thinking of her that way right now.

"Hey," she pleaded, trying to get me to look at her. "You knew something was up and you forced it out into the open. You did what I should have done eight months ago."

Please, Layla, get back on the couch. Please stop kneeling between my legs. And please, Carl, stop trying to sexualize her right now.

"Carl!" she snapped.

I slowly met her eyes with mine. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry," I breathed before stepping over her and beginning to pace back and forth.

.Layla.

What the fuck was happening right now? I sat back on the edge of the couch and raked my hand through my hair. This was it; this was him being fucking weird and different. God damnit.

"Carl, would you stop for a minute?" I begged.

He did, but when he stilled his movements it was to lean against the kitchen counter, across the fucking room.

I stood up and walked closer to him, and he visibly stiffened as I entered his vicinity. It absolutely killed me.

"Carl, please," I began to cry. "Please don't do this. Please don't stop touching me just because he did."

Carl's eyes welled up too, though he tried to fight the tears. "I'm sorry-"

"Stop apologizing!" I yelled. "Christ! You've done nothing wrong!"

"I don't know how to be with you right now!" he yelled back, desperation in his voice.

No. No no no. Please, not this.