Smash Into You

Chapter 8: Latch

I don't know why I didn't feel nervous this time around. I mean, I was getting ready for an actual date with Lauren not the twisted ones I would daydream about when I was with her. Picking out clothes were easy because we decided we were just going to go to a bar and grab some food. My perfume was carefully selected, having heard multiple times how Lauren was allergic to everything Bath and Body Works. Even my hair seemed to work with me as I brushed it back only to let the long bangs fall down again.

I was in such an easy going mood tonight.

Humming a song, I tossed the keys in my hand as I walked out my door and headed towards the car. Starting it up and hummed happily the whole way there.

I was grinning when I made my way up Lauren's apartment steps. My fingers drummed against the rail as I attempted to hide my smile. Running my hand through my hair again, I let out a nervous sigh before knocking on the door and waiting.

The door creaked open slowly. The grin, that I had just managed to hide, came dancing back to my face. Beaming down as the door opened, I spoke just as Lauren came to view, "Hey! Are you ready to-"

My sentence fell flat to the ground, along with my smile and my good mood. Without even thinking, I pushed the door open the rest of the way and rushed to the crying girl in side, "What's wrong? What happened?"

Lauren must have been crying for hours. Her eyes were swollen as she wiped the tears away with a fresh tissue in her hand. She shook her head to my questions, but continued to stand there. Cursing softly, I adjusted myself to be able to close the door before turning back to her. She hiccupped silently, trying to suppress her sobs. Her hands were to her face, trying to hide as she continued to mumble something I was sure that were along the lines of "I'm fine. I'm fine."

A deep frown settled on my lips as I dipped down to her level, watching her hand covered face, "Look at me. Tell me what happened."

Her head shook from side to side again, but I wasn't in the mood to give her what she wanted: for me to pretend she was all right as well. I took her hands, and even as she struggled, I pulled them away from her face. She attempted to keep her eyes away from me, but I took her chin gently and pulled her eyes back to mine.

The expression I was met with was heart breaking and my chest ached to fix everything that was wrong with her. Her green eyes were swimming in tears, some still slipping down her cheeks even as she tried to stop. My expression softened and I watched her try to hold another sob in, "Babe, what's wrong?" I asked gently, refusing to look anywhere but her eyes.

She sniffed, blinked, and brought a hand back to her face with my permission. With another sniff and a wipe, she whispered out, "Just a bad day at work."

I sighed, giving her a wary smile as I stood up straight. It took no thoughts or guts for me to wrap my arms around her. There was no stomach flipping feeling as I pressed her closer into me and nuzzled into her hair. I was attempting to comfort, but all I could do was hold her. I had never seen her cry before. After all months we spent hanging out, not once did I see her shed a tear. It was now, more than ever, that I realized I hadn't even scratched the surface of who Lauren really was.

She clung to me as she sobbed again, mumbling about her terrible day into my chest. I couldn't understand a word, honestly it all just sound muffled with sobs. Still I nodded to show I was paying attention, rubbing her back to help her calm down. When she started to sob harder, I shushed her and whispered that I was her for her and when she had started to calm down, I continued to hold her, knowing that she was only going to fire up sobs again.

I don't know how long she was here crying by herself, and it was probably for the best that I didn't. Knowing that I missed any of her tears brought a searing pain to my chest.

Obviously that night we didn't go out.

We spent it sitting on the couch. Her curled up on my lap as I held her and whispered encouragements every now and then into her ear. In the middle of the night, when we had both fallen asleep with her still on top of me, she was the one to pull me from the couch, holding my hand gently as we made our way through the hall.

She squeezed my hand as she climbed into bed and refused to let go as I settled beside her. As she rolled over with me still in her grip, she tugged me to spoon her and held on to my arm as we both continue to fall asleep.

Got you shackled in my embrace
I'm latching on to you