No One But Myself

PART ONE-9

I get no sleep that night.
Daniel insisted I sleep in his bed while he moved en route to the couch, and as nice of a gesture it was, I was still awake. I watched the night transition into dawn, and later into day. Daniel had poked his head in a few times with the occasional "you okay?" and breakfast, but soon I'm sure he had succumbed. The day passed by a blur, and night fell again, which of course gave way to dawn.
I moved for the first time to shower, and turned the water on just to sit there. The water was scalding, like fire against my skin, but the tears that fell from my eyes were a distraction. Soon enough the heat subsided and my stomach gave an audible plea for sustenance, so I made my way into the kitchen.
"Hey there, stranger." that smile. "Haven't seen you in a while." he was drinking coffee and playing what appeared to be a puzzle game, his hair was perfectly parted and I hated myself for noticing.
"Sorry." I found myself smiling too, merely a habit, but offered nothing more. I was uncertain of what exactly was wrong with me, but I was determined to move past it. I was here now, the clouds were moving to display the sun after a storm, as some would say.
"You're fine." He peers at me through long lashes, trying to console. "I bet you're hungry. Foods in the oven. Should be done, actually."
"Indeed I am." I say, sitting down beside him, grabbing the puzzle game from him ever so hesitantly to peek at it myself. Trying to attempt it seemed impossible, my mind is already preoccupied. I can barely conjure conversation starters, much less solve a puzzle of any sort. I stare blankly at it, run my finger along the edges, before meeting his gaze that seems to be fixated on me. There's something unfamiliar in his eyes.
"What?" I ask. I narrow my eyes and sink a little farther into the couch, my body aches and fatigue cloaks my body like a second skin, and my stomach feels empty, reminding me I was actually starving.
      He doesn't say anything, doesn't give me any reason for his expression, just stands up from the couch and makes his way to the oven. I find myself forgetting about the unexplained look he'd given me, and wondering what was in there that smelled so damn good. My stomach is screaming, and I feel like I haven't eaten in weeks, all I want is food.
      "Hope you like Mac n Cheese." he puts on an oven mit, opening the oven door and allowing the heavenly smell to fill me like a drug.
     "Who doesn't?" I watch him scoop some in a plate, I'm assuming for me since he's rather generous with the portion, and thank everything that exists for the creation of Mac n cheese. As soon as it's placed in front of me, it diminishes. I instantly feel a thousand times better, less dead, and I'm almost brought to tears by a simple plate of pasta. "Thanks" I say with my last bite. It was a simple word, but I meant it with all I had. I'm not sure what I thought would happen if he had ever found out, but I'm certain it wasn't this. Becoming a sudden burden, inhabiting his living space, basically encroaching, 'thanks' wasn't enough and I knew it.
       "For?" He brings a glass to his lips, that I can't help but notice are nicely shaped, and takes a sip. "Saving my best friend? Giving you what you deserve? I don't understand the apology."
      It's quiet, and I failed to notice the constant ticking of a clock until now. I have nothing else to say, I'm not entirely certain what I would if I found the words to, so instead I just help myself to more carbs. He understands, doesn't question the silence because he knows me better than anyone else, and I'm thankful for that. Thankful period. I'm not sure where this is going to go, what's going to happen with me, how this will work, but for now it's too exhausting to fathom.
         He watches me eat, which I think nothing of, until he reaches out to touch my hand gingerly with the tip of his finger. The sudden display of affection confuses me for sure, he's not one for doing so, and a lump finds it's way into my throat. He lightly strokes my thumb; I hear him heave an audible sigh, moving his way to my wrist. Eventually he stops, takes me in for a moment, and then gets up from the table, the odd moment leaving with him.
     I wait for him to come back and say something, anything to give me a clue of anything since I feel so lost, but he doesn't. Eventually I raise from the table myself, set my dish into the dishwasher, and return to his room to try and sleep.

It storms that night.
Not a peaceful storm you can manage to sleep through, but a swarm of chaos that shakes me right out of my restless sleep. Thunder slaps and lightening flashes, bringing the whole room to life and I find myself gripping the sheets pathetically begging it to end. I hated storms, always have and I'm sure always will, and being alone felt worse. I didn't have to say anything to Daniel, he was already sliding into bed next to me without warning and it was odd that I didn't notice the door open, or that he was somehow awake. I was uncertain why it felt so okay to rest against him, but I did anyway and he pulled me close under his arm. He'd done enough saving me to last a lifetime, but somehow managed to do it all over again and I felt like words weren't necessary.
"I'll stay here until it's over." He murmurs into my hair, and it's oddly all the reassurance I need. I nod, I don't say anything even though I knew I probably should, and I fall back asleep in his arms. Somehow, the storm subsides.