Joe Goldberg is beginning to wonder if there's any more decent people in the world. With both Candace and Beck out of the picture, he's feeling lonely and starting to give up on love. That is, until Leila comes sobbing into Mooney's. Fragile and vul...
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2 7 | A S L O N G A S I C A N
leila
I'm not sure what I was expecting Joe to do when I confessed my past to him.
I think a part of me anticipated him to get angry and not believe me. But that's not at all what I'm seeing now.
What I'm seeing now is an angry man, yes. But his rage isn't directed towards me. No, he's upset with Tate. The look on his face tells me he's plotting to kill my ex.
And I find that oddly comforting.
"Joe, Joe," A low coo rattles out of my mouth as I round the coffee table to hug him, "it's okay. I'm okay."
"Leila, I-"
"Stop!" The poor man's brows are knit finely together, and all I can think to do is place myself on the arm of the recliner and smile. I can only imagine what I look like. Makeup was never my forte, and I can feel it melting off my face. I must look like a deranged clown, but Joe's eyes don't see me that way. When I place my hand on his face and force his gaze in my direction, he only holds empathy.
He keeps my gaze for a few beats, leaning his cheek into my palm and I try conveying some sort of stability with my eyes. It's hard to breathe, and even more impossible to speak. Neither of us brave enough to utter a word.
But, God, he makes this silence worth it.
I'd debated for months about what to do with him. My friends were all so divided. Mark wanting me to rekindle it, Evan and Don fearing another Tate, Hope encouraging me to find sexual freedom for once...
And Peter.
Peter just being supportive.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a little crush on the musician. But he and his brother travel so much, I wrote him off as a non-option and decided to focus on Joe.
And I'm glad. I'm glad I did. Because this- this reaction right here. Of him tenderly clasping my hand in his and pulling me into his lap to hold me. It feels so right. Benevolence radiates from him in a warm glow.
I feel...safe.
And we sit like that, me in his lap- his arms around me- forever. It's a different kind of intimacy I'm feeling with him. One not perverted or warped.
Just genuine. And kind.
I want to collapse into him.
Let go of my mind.
Let him fuel me.
This moment is good.
Healing.
But too suddenly, anxiety creeps back in. Joe's warm embrace becomes toxic. I try to fight it, but I'm weak. Tate's twisted, toothy smile is sharp in my mind sending strings of panic and terror ripping through my body. His black hole eyes suckle at my soul, drinking me in like I'm a drug.
