I watched his expression drop further, his eyes narrowing with worry, his eyebrows furrowing. "Wait... You've never had to shut anyone down before... as in, nobody has ever tried to help you before?", he asked, shocked.
I bit my lip harshly. "No, nobody has ever cared enough to ask if I would let them help me, except for my previous therapists, who didn't give a damn about what I was going through. It was all about the money for them.", I muttered. "You would be the first... but I still can't bring myself to understand or believe that you actually want to help me.".
"Maybe... maybe you're doing this to prove something. Maybe you want people to believe that you're some angel of a human. Maybe I'm just some game to you. Maybe you're also being paid by the 'government' to help me, or-".
"Or maybe, I see a beautiful girl, who's life has been filled with trauma and sadness, wounded several times over and over again by those around her. Maybe I sympathize with said girl. Maybe I know how she feels and have genuine empathy for her: Maybe, just maybe, I genuinely want to help her, not for myself, but to improve her own well being. Maybe I want her to see what life has to offer, and how life can be a blessing and not a curse.", he encouraged, scooting closer, absentmindedly placing a hand on my arm.
I scoffed. "I've been on this planet for 25 years. If life wanted me to experience any sort of joy, I'm sure I would've been presented the opportunity by now.", I retorted. He huffed in response. "Maybe I could be that opportunity. Please, just give this a chance.", he insisted.
I frowned. "Fine, but try not to be too disappointed when your efforts go to shit. I'm unfixable, broken into millions of tiny shards by people who, intentionally or not, continued to hammer me down. So, I wish you luck.", I teased. He didn't seem to find it amusing. "Don't underestimate me, Betty Cooper. You may just be surprised at what I'm capable of, and I'll prove it to you.".
I was too fatigued to continue this petty argument with him, so I surrendered. He took the win graciously, seemingly thankful that I was willing to give him a chance. Part of me was, while the other part of me was positive that his efforts would fail. He would learn soon enough how useless I truly was.
I'd say that the ratio of my faith in him to the opposite was about 5% to 95%.
That 5%, though, really hoped he could somehow help me. Maybe, just maybe, he would pull me out of my man-made purgatory, though it was more like hell than that. The point is that I was stuck, for all eternity, it seemed. Deep, deep down, I prayed he could mend me.
He watched my eat, considerately making sure that I was comfortable situated in bed as a I did so, and that I didn't need anything. I need you, I thought. Wait, what? No. This man is just like the others. Just because his exterior is beyond attractive doesn't make him any better. Not to mention, I hardly know him. Fuck me. No, just fuck... Fuck.
An unexpected, uninvited smile appeared on my face as this sudden tangle of thoughts blew through my head. Jug began to grin, both eager to see this change and to know what was going on inside of my head. "Whatcha smiling at? You can tell me, if you're comfortable...", he asked cheerily. My face flushed suddenly, and I quickly lowered my gaze into my lap. "N-Nothing. Don't worry about it.".
He only shrugged, twiddling his thumbs as he waited for me to finish my meal. Once I did, he offered to take it down for me. In fact, his refusal to allow me to bring it down myself was prominent, so I reluctantly complied.
He did, however, allow myself to get up to go to the bathroom to change into pajamas and get myself ready for bed. He waited outside the door, insistent that he wait there incase I needed anything else, but I knew that wasn't the real reason; he wanted to make sure I wouldn't hurt myself again.
It confused me, the generous and caring character that he possessed. I'd never seen it in anyone before, but I'd read enough books to understand that's what it was. Why did he care so much? Why was he being so kind to me? Why him? Why me? How? Why? What reason?
Don't let the questions upset or worry you; that's just how my life was. I questioned everything and everyone in existence. Could you blame me? He walked behind me, carefully tucking me into bed. "You want the light on or off?", he asked. A timid smile from me. "Off please.".
"I'll be right across the hall, in the guest room, if you need me. Okay?", he said as he began to saunter off towards the door. I nodded.
"Wait!", I suddenly shouted. His head spun faster than the speed of light. Fuck. What am I doing? "C-Could you stay here?", I asked. I didn't even realize what I was asking until it was out in the air between us. Why the hell did I ask that?
He tensed slightly. "U-Uhm, Betty, are you sure? I-I mean, I can, but you just met me and I want you to trust me, so I don't kn-".
"Please...", I insisted, once again unaware of the words coming from my mouth. He sighed heavily, his eyes shining with understanding, thought even I didn't understand. "Sure. If that's what you want. I can sleep on the floor. Let me get some blankets. I'll be right back.".
He situated himself on the floor, making sure that he could hear my sound snored before he himself fell asleep. That night, I didn't dream, but thought about my last actions. Maybe I asked him to stay as a way of repaying his kindness. Maybe it was because I craved more of whatever positive energy he radiated. Maybe I was confused and alone in my mind.
None of that mattered. We were both there, sleeping in the same room. Vulnerable together. But I felt safe for the first time.
