Making It (On Hold Indefinitely)

2.5

2.5

• — • Taylor's point of view • — •

I do my best as to not disturb her resting figure. Gently rolling her head off my arm while backing out of bed. Stopping my venture only when she moves. My lungs stay still as she turns, letting out a soft moan as she rests on her stomach, tucking her arms beneath her head. I allow myself to breathe because I would have felt guilty for waking her when she barely slept as it is.

Charlotte spent most of the night fighting to get comfortable. Huffing and puffing before settling and letting out a soft sob. Whenever I would ask what was wrong she'd just sniff and apologize for waking me up and, mutter something about having to pee, then be gone for ten minutes. Truth is I never fell asleep until she crawled back into bed and curled up into my side for the night.

I hated seeing her so broken and not knowing how to fix it. Not knowing how to take away the pain she was feeling or fill the emptiness that was no doubt inside her.

Pulling on my underwear I manage to make it out the room, quietly grabbing a pair of sweats from the dresser drawer along the way.

Ever since my offer to let her use me she's been insatiable. Jumping at the chance whenever we were alone, but it's different. She's different and it doesn't feel right. It felt wrong and that was something I never wanted to associate with her. There was nothing wrong with Charlotte. She was absolutely perfectly imperfect. . . and broken. Okay maybe there might be something wrong, but there was nothing wrong between the two of us. There shouldn't be anything wrong between the two of us. Having something wrong just felt wrong; especially when everything else felt right.

I settle on to the couch and sink into the cushions, dragging my hands down my face. My eyes burn with fatigue but there was no way I was getting any sleep right now. Not when my thoughts were so loud and the world was quiet.

I close my eyes and try to let my muscles melt into the piece of furniture beneath me, but that didn't feel right either. Not when my fiancée was upstairs with dried rivulets on her cheeks because she was still mourning the loss of our baby.

Our baby.

I had been so absorbed in making sure that she was okay. Making her feel loved, cherished and reminding her of what she already knew, I haven't stopped to really decipher whether or not if I truly was okay. But my body wouldn't relax enough for me to feel anything but worry.

They say to make sure that you're okay before checking in on someone else. How were you to attempt to fix someone if you're broken too? But there was no time to check and see if I was fine. Any time I tried it's never 'am I okay?' it's always 'is Charlotte okay? Would she be okay when she left this weekend? Should she leave or should I go back with her?'

She wouldn't allow me to do that. No matter how selfish. She wouldn't allow me to put my dreams on hold because she was feeling a bit broken. Though she would never admit to me if she wasn't completely fine anyway. Not when everything lay on the line. She cared and that's why I love her. She refused to let herself be selfish, so I had to be for her.

For a moment I drift off. Letting the darkness consume me ever so slowly. Pulling me down into the couch and I have to promise myself that I would head upstairs in a few minutes, I just needed time to be selfish for myself.

• — • — • — •

The feeling of gentle fingers stroking against my scalp is what pulls me out of the dark vortex that is my head. I try to remember my dream, but come up blank as my eyes flutter open and I'm met with the most gorgeous set of green eyes I've ever seen. My breath hitches in my throat but only briefly because I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her onto the couch next to me all while shuffling back into the back support so that she had room to lay down. With Char laying down next to me I nestle my face into her shoulder and take in a deep breath, tightening my hold on her waist.