Love Without Tragedy | JB | a.u| BWWM | COMPLETE

Twenty Seven.

Justin hesitantly moved out of the way and I walked into his magnificent bedroom.

"Supper?" I tried to lighten the mood.

He hesitantly took a plate from me and sat on his bed.

There were papers and folders all over his bed as well as his laptop. Justin moved some out of the way so that I could sit.

He looked at me.

"Second time in one day you've brought food up for me." He said.

"I worry about you." I replied.

"Worry?"

"Food's important. All meals. Not just when you're in a good mood." I said.

He didn't speak for a moment.

"No one's ever brought food up for me before." He said.

I looked at him.

"What about when you're sick?" I asked. "Doesn't Catherine bring you food?"

"Let me rephrase: no woman I've ever been interested in has ever brought food up for me."

"Twice." I smiled.

Justin smiled too and I knew then that we were at peace.

"I'm scared of being alone." I said, my smile disappearing.

Reality sunk in: now or never; now I felt brave.

Justin looked at me, confusion etched on his flawless face.

"That's why I... cried out in my sleep. I'm fearful of loneliness... Darkness." I said.

Suddenly I didn't feel hungry anymore.

"You're afraid of the dark?" He asked softly.

"When I'm alone, yes. I kept the lamps on last night with hopes that I'd be safe but..." My voice trailed off.

Justin studied my face.

"I'm messed up." I chuckled.

"No." He sympathized.

"Yes." I said. "I'm scared of what the dark hides. My step-dad, Randy... I always wanted to be able to see, if I was alone with them. So... kept the lights on at all times." I said.

"I had no idea..."

"No one does. It's not something I like to talk about. 'Hey, I'm Dileah Banks. Grown ass woman, afraid of the dark'."

Justin frowned.

I didn't say anything else from then on.

I quickly caught a falling tear then I started to eat.

"Do you sleep with your makeup on?" Justin asked me.

I shook my head, not looking at him.

"How do you get it off? Do you wash your face? Use wipes?"

"Wipes. Sometimes." I whispered.

"Fetch them." He said.

I looked at him.

His gaze paralyzed me.

I didn't put up an argument.

Justin took my plate from me then he walked out the room with me. As I went to get my wipes, he went to put our plates in the kitchen.

When I walked back to his room, he was clearing his bed.

Justin sat on his bed, his back against the headboard. He looked at me and motioned me to come over.