Thunder shakes the house, rain loudly pounding against the roof. The light at my bedside will not turn on, leading me to believe the power has gone out. The storm is seemingly relentless, though I'm not sure how long it's been ravaging, I've been awake for at least thirty minutes of it. It's just after three in the morning, the light of my phone burning my eyes as the aggressive storm keeps me wide awake.
A particularly loud clap rattles the walls, and subsequently, myself. I bring my knees closer to my chest, continuing to scroll through Instagram as I desperately seek a distraction from the storm. It seems to only be getting heavier, ravaging more and more by the minute.
My entire body jumps with fear as Clinton slowly pushes my door open. "Hey, I'm sorry." He sighs. "I figured you'd be awake. Are you alright?" I don't answer, just reach my arms out toward him. Accompanied by another sigh, Clinton joins me on the bed and pulls me into his arms, my legs dangling on either side of his thighs. I rest my head on his shoulder, as his hands lay on my lower back.
"Kiss me," I hum, lifting my mouth towards his own.
"As you wish." Clinton's voice is low and soft as he presses his lips to my own. It doesn't last long, a soft and sweet one before I drop my head onto his shoulder again. Thunder and rain continue their terror outside, but it's more manageable now. Clinton is a better distraction than my phone could ever be. "Can I leave you for a second?"
"What?" My head snaps up to face him. "It's...there's no power."
"I'm not gonna be long." His hand moves to rubbing my shoulder now. "Just trust me, alright?"
I nod. "Okay,"
Clinton sets me back on the bed and walks from my room, leaving me very perplexed as to what he is doing. I grab my phone, which I had previously discarded, scrolling through it as I try desperately to pass time. The storm outside seems to be lightening up, the thunder sounding more distant, and the rain not as aggressive. However, one attempt at turning on the light confirms that the power is still out, and will be for the foreseeable future.
It takes about fifteen minutes for Clinton to return to the bedroom where I am staying. By the time he does, the rain outside has reduced to soft taps, and thunder cannot be heard. "Come on, I wanna show you something." He's still able to pick me up, as I weigh practically nothing. Though I have been gaining, each and every bone in my body is still painfully visible.
Clinton carries me downstairs, where all the furniture has been pushed from the center of the room to the walls, leaving much open space. Battery operated tealight candles fill the otherwise black void of the room. We make our way down the remaining stairs as my brain grapples with and takes in all my surroundings. Though it's minuscule and honestly not much, the scene possesses a certain element of beauty. I'm still unsure why he's done this, but I won't ask questions. At this point, I'm just simply enjoying every thing Clinton gives me. He truly has been spoiling me, though he claims he isn't. I mean...he makes me meals, he bought me new clothes, of course I'm being spoiled!
My feet hit the ground as Clinton sets me down on the hardwood. Part of me still flinches at the feeling of that material on my bare skin. It was always what I found myself on as Mitchel reigned terror unto my body. I'm still trying to remind myself, convince myself that I'm not with Mitchel anymore, that I am safe. Some days are harder than others when it comes down to it. Truly, I do not think I will ever fully recover from the horror he has brought unto me.
Music starts to fill the space between the walls, the same oldies tunes that usually possess this house. "Can I have this dance?" Clinton giggles, extending his hand out to me.
And dance we do. We dance until the lights flicker back on, and even when they do, Clinton turns them back off and we continue moving gracefully around the floor. We dip and slide until the sun begins peeking over the hills, and we dance as we watch the sky change to shades of pink, purple, and orange, before yellow fills the air, pouring in through the windows.
When we finally stop dancing, our bodies crash to the ground in a fight of giggles. Our hands are interlocked as I roll around until my head lands on his sternum, my knee between his thighs. Eventually, I end up falling asleep, the sun painting our surroundings a golden shade and warming my skin as I drift off, listening to Clinton's heartbeat.
