a Fragile Kind of Brave

"You'd be surprised what people can endure when it's all they've ever known." Beck's voice was quiet, distant.

I focused my eyes on a lone ember dying just outside the fire. "Tragic shit happens around us every day, to adults and to children. The fact that we try to brush it all under the rug - to pretend it doesn't happen... That's the bigger tragedy. To let those affected suffer in silence, instead of reaching out a hand - lending an ear," I whispered, and our little group grew quiet for a bit.

"What if those affected are just trying to get through to tomorrow?" Beck said thoughtfully. I eyed him as I waited for him to continue. His brown waves fell in his amber eyes. "Maybe they don't want to talk about it. Maybe they're tired of thinking about it and just want to forget and move on to the next thing in life." His voice was casual as he shrugged, but his faraway eyes gave me the impression that he was speaking from experience.

"I think," I paused, and he met my eyes. "Compartmentalizing works for a bit. Though, in the long run, it's only going to leave them in a much worse place mentally. It'll eat you alive, letting it fester so long. Even if the abused and damaged think they're getting through by shoving it down, saving it for the 'later' that never comes... They're really just turning themselves into a ticking time bomb."

"Does that work for you?" He asked, and my eyes flickered back up to his. "Talking about it?"

"What makes you think I've experienced such tragedy in my 17 years?" I responded quietly, the energy between us charged. "Maybe I was just curious." I offered.

Beck stared back at me in disbelief, smoke pouring out of his mouth and curving up into a cloud around his eyes.

How did he have me read so well, so quickly?

a Fragile Kind of Brave, a Dark Romance that touches on attachment styles and trauma bonds. Reader's discretion advised.