Pacifier

// Van //

I didn't sleep that night, too preoccupied with her hair between my fingers, her hair tickling my cheek, the sheets between us soaking up her misty morning dew drop scent. Her breaths were shallow, soft like the rest of her. She was soft in every way. Her touch, her gaze, her footfalls on the floor, her voice and the curve of her lips around words just as velvety as her. 

She held my hand to her chest, held my arm around her, her fingertips delicate as they entwined with mine. She was shy to rest her chin on the back of my hand but she did and it was her breath tickling my skin which kept me caught on the precipice between night and day until sunlight crept through the curtains and kissed her skin.

All night long I thought about her, about the girl she'd been that morning and the girl she was now having seen the things my mistakes had forced her to see. I thought about the other girls, their bravery all in vain. Megan's wounded pooling eyes unable to forgive me, Camilles stiff neck as she abandoned her bar stool throne to stand beside her friends.
All the nights they worked they worked for us and what had we given them? A place to hide, something to hide from.

I couldn't he sure if Isabelle was sleeping, her chest rose and fell surely as the steady flow of a river, she meandered through the dark, but in the dark I couldn't tell whether she'd found any peace.

She had me on edge, unable to move, wooden and tense because she was so close, encapsulated in my embrace, and yet still so out of reach. I held all I desired in my arms and still I had nothing at all.

By morning my eyes stung, my head hurt and my hand was numb.

She lay still, perfectly still, and so did I. I wasn't sure who was waiting for who, and if so what for?

When Bondy knocked on the door I felt her stiffen, felt myself stiffen as I focussed my attention on savouring every last second I got to spend wrapped up in her presence. I wanted nothing more than to wrap myself around her a little tighter, scatter her with kisses, her cheeks, her hair, the nape of her neck. Instead I pushed myself up on one elbow, let her tumble from my embrace and then just like that there was only me again.

"Mornin la," I said pushing myself up as he pushed the door to behind him and sat at the foot of my bed allowing his sister to scramble into his lap.

I held back a smirk, in love with her half way behaviour. Half way between Persephone and a waif like child. She moved almost animalistic, slinking and then shrinking, half hidden behind her brothers jacket. When I looked at him he was smirking too, though the grey beneath his eyes told me he'd had a rough night too.

"Go on Isabelle," he nodded to the door, kissing her hair before she slunk from his arms and out the bedroom door. He watched after her. I did too, I felt my heart sink as the door closed, felt myself sorry to see her go, though I knew id see her in an hour or two, downstairs, loitering by the bar, winding bob up, pouring pints, wasting her time.

Bondy let out a long sigh, rubbed his eyes and leant back against the bedpost.

"She keep you up?" He asked confusing me for a moment, I'd been too busy watching her, her wide black eyes blinking back at me. The curve of her lips lingering, a smirk as she watched me.

"No, no" I coughed, "course not," I shook my head, scratching the back of my neck he'd caught me out there, I was certain when he raised his brow that his skepticism was because he'd heard the crack in my voice, "listen Bondy, do me a favour, gather the lids, we need a debrief," I said as my eyes flickered to the door behind him and the way it creaked. Someone was listening in. "Megan," I called out slowly, the stern coaxing voice she was probably growing used to, "come in," and she did.