Trained (Completed)

Chapter 15: Sink or Swim

The food turned cold. After the session they had, both of them were fairly full. In the Challenger, Palmer's head lays on Clinton's shoulder, while his hand is intwined with hers. He doesn't want to let go. Ever. She's so beautiful.

Taking charge, they drift off to the highway. Away from the gym. Away from Palmer's mother's house. Her head bounces up. "Where are we going Clint? I mean Clinton."

He chuckles lightly, gazing at the starry night. "Can't tell." Palmer lets go of his hand. "You're safe babe. Promise."

Easing her nerves, Clinton turns onto ocean drive. Vacant, at this time of night. No one comes to the beach this late. Only reckless kids that thrive on trouble. Driving onto Daytona beach, her eyes peak. "I've never been to the beach at night."

He smiles, liking that he's her first for this memory. He hopes to make it a special one. "Come on." She follows his lead, getting out of the car, rejoining their hands. Too bad their hands are together, or else she'd rub her arms. Deciding to step closer to Clinton, she presses into his warmth. "Cold baby?"

A large arm lays on her shoulders. Palmer wraps her arms around his waist. Snuggling into his cozy scent. Sand paper hands smooth the goosebumps on her skin. Once their toes touch the sand, she bends down, releasing her bare feet. Holding heels, back to where they left off.

Reaching the destination, the crashing waves sound beyond. No stars in sight, hidden behind the clouds. The moon doesn't want attention tonight, as it decided to stay in for the night. Pieces peak, but the moon is not full. Empty, just like Palmer.

Palmer wishes to be fulfilled, but there's something missing inside. It's not her career, that's complete. Maybe kids, or a husband, but that's not it. She's not happy with herself, and that's where the emptiness fills in.

One must love their self, before one can love them. Sometimes, she wishes Clinton and her had never started anything. The relationship pretends to spill the cement into the cracks. But Palmer's self esteem is the jack hammer cracking the smooth casing.

Everyone has their own waves. Some have higher ones, others are low. Hard to climb, others have to sink to the floor of the sea, just to swim to the top. Hopefully, Palmer prays not to let herself sink. Once one sinks, that can be it. Ride it out, she can't let herself drown.

"Whatcha thinkin?" She looks down, as their feet feel the cool sand. The grainy texture oozes between their toes.

"Nothing.", lies. Taking her hand away, the moment feels...fake. They aren't a real couple. Why does he act like he cares? Besides, Clinton has too much on his mind right now to hear her shallow problems.

Problems that don't even match up with the capacity of the ocean. If she were to take everything she's ever gone through, throw the experiences into the sea, they'd all sink to the bottom, lost.

Nothing will ever compare, her issues are small. Though sometimes, they feel abundant and lost. Near the shore, but not too close, Palmer finds a spot and sits. Her hands play in the sand.

As if each grain is one of her insecurities, too bad they can't just slip through her hands like the sand. "Something...listen I know I've been distant, but I'm here for you Palmer. Whatever you're going through, you don't deserve to go through it alone."

How selfish of her? Making every situation about her when she should be there for him. Telling him the same thing. Lord knows he's going through far worse with Marlena. She should be there for him. Holding him, telling him it will be okay.

That time heals all wounds and all that other bullshit people say to make someone feel better. Though it doesn't. Those sayings only make matters worse. "Thank you. But I don't want to talk about it."