Red

48

I put the water bottle down next to me and look up at Tris again, letting out a sigh when she stares back at me with her big, doe eyes and mouth parted ever so slightly. She looks gorgeous, even in my oversized T-shirt, with messy hair and tear stained cheeks. She looked like an angel.

And that's what made it so hard to start talking again. I didn't want to stop looking at her, I didn't want to upset her again. I didn't want to ruin this quiet, peaceful moment we had. But I couldn't just not bring up what had happened. I had to be responsible, even if I didn't want to.

"Tris," I drag her name out through another sigh. "Tris, what happened? What got you so nervous back there?"

It hurt me a little more than it should have when she lifted her hands off my thighs and held onto the bottom of her shirt instead. She was already starting to block herself off.

She was getting nervous again. And it was not the kind of nervous that I made her when I told her to look at me, or when I would hold her cheeks in my hands. It was the kind that hurt me, made me wish I could do something, anything to stop it. It was the kind that I wanted so badly to protect her from, yet I seem to be the biggest cause if it.

I didn't want to make her upset again, but I can't have her not talking to me about things like her anxiety. She seemed to have a stigma around her anxiety, like many people do. And I hated stigmas around mental health. I hate the stigma that anxiety isn't as problematic as it is because it's inside, not visible to everyone.

And I hated even more that she felt ashamed of having anxiety, something millions of people struggle with, including myself.

"Nothing happened," She mumbles and shrugs her shoulders. Exactly the response I expected, but not the one I hoped for.

"Tris...you know I'm here to help you. Just talk to me," I say.

She shrugs her shoulders again. "I...I just want to hang out with Sam," she says, but the way she said it sounded more like a question. I knew she was lying, or at least not telling me the whole truth.

"I want the truth, Tris," I say, my tone a little more demanding. One thing I would never tolerate is lying. The truth always comes out through lies, so Tris might as well save herself the hassle and tell me what really is bothering her.

"That is the truth," she says with a frail voice that did help her case at all.

I shake my head. "Well, tell me what else is bothering you then. Because your panic attack didn't start when I told you you and Sam couldn't go off on your own. So what else is it?" I ask her.

My temper was starting to pick up again and I was trying to be as reasonable as I could. I'd give anything to have Tris just talk to me, for her to feel comfortable around me, as comfortable as she did with Sam.

But I knew once the saw the tears threatening to spill from her eyes that I wasn't as nice as I should have been. She blinks a few times to try and stop them from falling, but a few tears fall anyway Perhaps it was to stop me from seeing her cry, something I knew she hated doing in front of me.

Again, she refuses to answer. All she gives me is a shrug of her shoulders.

"I'm not trying to be mean," I tell her and hold her hands which were still grasping the bottom of her shirt. She lifts her head up a little more to meet my eyes. She looked exhausted and sad, and it broke me seeing her this way.

"Babe, you've gotta let me in, I need you to tell me what you're thinking about. I care too much about you to see you this upset. It kills me," I say, pleading with her, desperate for her to just speak.