Sex and the Treaty

Short, but so badly needed.

Stacy's perspective:

The last glass piece. I wince when I pull it off his arm but his eyes just keeps studying my face. I look down when the white cotton turns blood red after my dab on his wound. I clean it up with some antiseptic and I tape a white bandage on his hand. While I pack the first aid kit, to how it was before, I feel his open palms turn around and place themselves on my skin. 

His fingers gently stroke the skin, just above my knee. I stop packing the box when he lifts his hand away only to push a strand of hair behind my ears. 

My eyes catch him and his hand instantly pulls away. I resumed packing the box, shutting the lid close after I'm done. Keeping the box back, I decide to clean up the mess of the shattered glass pieces. I get a broom from the kitchen storeroom and I start to sweep the glass pieces away. I turn my head towards the couch but I find it empty of human presence. 

Every glass piece I sweep reminds me of every word that spilled out today. Every emotion that surfed our faces and every volcano of secrets which exploded. I just mountain all the small pieces of the bottle to one small, far corner of the living room. I decide to mop it off later, maybe in the morning when I'm less tired. 

Sighing as I fall on the couch, I finally relax. My legs lift up and I see my boots still covering my feet. I rest my legs on the coffee table and my head on the couch. My eyes slowly close when I slump, this night has finally ended. The party seems like almost days ago and the hill incident is almost forgotten. 

I feel my legs being lifted up again. My eyes open when I see him lean and unzip my boots. 

"What are you doing?" I asked sitting up straight but he didn't respond. 

He slowly pulled the boot off my right leg and then my left. My feet feel the hit of relaxation as new, fresh air trickles through my toes. He rests my leg back on the table as he takes my boots in his hand and places them in the shoe stand. 

"Thanks," I said but he again, didn't respond. 

I exhale sailing into darkness as the feeling of drowsiness taunts my eyes. I almost pass out when I feel myself lifted up now. Along with my legs. Again, my eyes shot open when I realize I was in thin air, only his arms holding me. 

"Atticus, seriously what are--"

"Don't shake." He winced shutting his eyes. 

I realized we were almost up the stairs and near my room. I stopped shaking when I remembered his hands were injured. I rolled my hands around his neck and he spared my a slight glance. I rested my head on his chest to avoid his gaze. My eyes began to droop again, waiting for him to just rest me on my bed, and I would instantly fall asleep. 

I blacked out again, I hated how sleep was half coming and then going into haze. I couldn't make out if I was in reality or not. I opened my eyes again when I saw him searching something in my closet. 

I rubbed my eyes sitting up straight, leaning away from the headrest. My comforter so soft under my palms, it calmed the chaos in my mind. 

"What are you looking for?" I asked still rubbing my eyes. 

He pulled a black shirt and some white shorts from the closet and tossed it over to me, which perfectly landed on my lap. I pulled the shorts up my legs and rested it under my blue dress. I fiddled on the bed, trying to reach the zip of my blue dress. I groaned when my hand wasn't reaching the zip. My fingers brushed my back, almost holding onto the zip but bam, that thing never stayed in between my fingers.

"Argh!!" I yelled as I searched for the zip again.

I felt fingers help me by pulling the zip down. My eyes widened at the instant touch which neither made me feel cold or warm, and I woke up again realizing I was just blindly wearing my night pajamas. I saw him sitting behind me, holding onto my waist and pulling my zip down.