Their Tale

Hope

So deep into thought, I didn't realize that someone had walked in. A shocked gasp leaves me with the feeling of a warm hand holding my shoulder. Turning to my side, I see Celeste come sit beside me, eyes of shame and disarray. Almost lost, "What are you doing out here, it's cold?" At that moment, I forgot the fight and realised that I was terrified the moment she left that door. Terrified that when she did come back her eyes would be bloodshot and glassy.

My focus goes to her, my heart going to her "Just needed to think." I mutter, words feeling heavy in my chest.

Worry covers her, bringing her hand over to my face she turns my focus to her, "I'm so sorry I said those things. Before I left the studio, I found a painting I had done for the playroom. This one with you involved in it. God it made me so mad." It's clear there is more to the way she was so mad, her hand going on to hold mine, "Why where you so mad?"

A breath of pain and exhaustion leaves her, "Because it was this reminder that I was losing a home for a second time. I was more than a thing, I was independent, loved, respected and how he lied made it all feel so tangible."

Shaking my head, I listen to the terror that haunted the woman I loved with so much of me, my thumb brushing her hand "I said you couldn't go through this alone, and I mean it but you pushing me away. I can't be there for someone who can't stand me." Celeste nods in agreement "I know, I do. The moment I heard my words, I had to leave because I didn't want to hear you tell me I had crossed a line I know I did. I didn't want to hear you say this, fucked fairy tale we promised you was not worth staying."

There is hesitation in my response to her, and Celeste catches this. She can tell there is more, but telling her the truth of how I am feeling would hurt her. To know I had thought that, "Celeste I'm scared, that this will all get so painful that you relapse. I may be in pain too, but I am waiting to love you. Let me love you through this fucked fairy tale. It doesn't have to be perfect for me to want it, to want you."

Tears running a race from her eyes to her chin are the visual of her right now, "I will never, ever do that to you and to us. Gosh, I love you Evita thought this and before." Bringing herself closer to me, she drapes a leg over mine, fingers woven with mine as though she couldn't handle the cold of her own, "I have been in my studio for hours, and hours and never have I seen my art so dark." Looking down at her hands I don't miss the dark colours that stain her nails.

"Evita it's this canvas of darkness and broken pieces, but there are always two bright aspects in them. I just know that I am not them. It's you and Angel."

Her words carry this pain, not like the day we found out about Angel's parents, but instead, they feel like they are longing, "I am in love with a man who made me feel like the darkness in each of those paintings, I love him Evita." Bringing her knees up, she finds herself in my arms as I whisper to her, "No one is expecting you to not love him, Celeste I love him to. It doesn't mean I'm not absolutely heart broken, but I can't be heartbroken without you. Not right now."

Her head motions a nod, while her fingers play with mine during the conversation, "I missed you holding me." A light chuckle leaves her lips, looking at me with the gaze of a lost memory, "I missed holding you too, you don't let me do that."

It's true, she was not the only one being difficult during this transition. We have not been intimate, held each other, or touched each other in weeks. Since moving here, I had decided that dance and finding a job was what was necessary for us. That and a large part of me was scared to find out that without Angel, she wouldn't need me, or enjoy being with me.

"I'm sorry about that, I know you need me physically as you do need me emotionally. I have been letting my mind think for my heart recently, doubting myself with you." Her body comes closer to mine, comfort radiating her body in safety, the safety I feel when she holds me as we sleep. "You know I love you Evita, with or without Angel. Please never let any thought bring doubt to that."

Her body lifts so that her eyes meet with mine, and for the first time in weeks, I see her. The girl who opened the door in that penthouse made me a cup of tea and asked for my name. Vulnerable, clear and full of love for what they could see. With no hesitation, I brought my hand to her face, bringing her closer to me and met her lips with mine.

How I missed this. This warmth and contentment followed her when she let her heart and soul feed every part of her body. She was never just this light, and she certainly never a pool of darkness, she was a compilation of the night sky when it let its body become a museum of stars.

I leave a lingering kiss on her forehead before I whisper to her, "I am exhausted." Standing up, and bringing her hand I lift her from the seat, "Let's go to bed, I need to hold you." With an unenergetic smile, I follow her to the bed, where for the first time in almost two weeks, I feel hope. Hope that we will get through this.