Marks and Scars

Slow

"...I'm just saying that it sounds a little too good to be true. Maybe you drank too much and it went to your head. You could be remembering things wrong - or maybe even the things you think you remember didn't happen at all. Alcohol will do that to you..."

I focused on the pans on the stove top in front of me, stirring the green beans a few times every couple of seconds so that they wouldn't start sticking to the pan. It also gave me an excuse to not turn around and have an actual conversation with Cathleen. The timer finally went off for the rolls. I pulled them out of the oven, setting the tray on the unused burners to cool off.

"Am I right? Tyler, how many drinks did Kara end up having last night?" Cathleen called to her brother.

Tyler had been sitting on the couch ever since he had gotten home, listening to Cathleen prattle on. He'd been oddly quiet and hadn't even turned the TV on yet.

"Hello? Earth to Tyler? Are you even awake?"

"Yeah," Tyler answered flatly.

I could see that Cathleen was scowling in the reflection on the microwave door. I pulled the pork chops out of the microwave, where I'd placed them to keep them from getting cold, and set them on the counter near the stove, peeling back the foil.

"Food's ready," I announced wearily, pulling a small stack of plates down from the cabinet.

Cathleen came to stand next to me, and started fixing her plate. She opened her mouth to continue, but I cut her off.

"Look, Cathleen, I know you're worried. I know it sounds crazy. I'm just saying that from what I can gather, Jeremy is a good guy. He's sweet, he's a gentleman. And it's not like we've already decided to get married," not exactly, anyway "Hell, we haven't even had s*x yet."

I had whispered the last part, meaning it only for Cathleen, but we both heard Tyler let out a loud snort. The two of us frowned at him, before returning our attention to the plates.

"Then what did you do last night?" Cathleen prodded.

"Nothing, I swear. We went to The Blue - that newer bar you and me have been wanting to try on Oglethorpe - we had a few drinks, I got black out drunk and into a fight-"

Tyler snorted again at this. I glanced over my shoulder in his direction, shaking off a small frown.

"After the fight," I continued, "I don't remember anything. But I woke up this morning in Jeremy's guest room, completely dressed and untouched. He took me somewhere I'd be safe instead of leaving me stranded downtown. You've got to give him credit for that!" I was embellishing... a lot. And I hated the little bits that were lies, but I was working with what was believable. Werewolf soulmate? Not so believable.

"I just want you to be careful," Cathleen sighed.

"Cathleen," I admonished. "It's me, Kara. I am the definition of careful. That should tell you how great this really is."

Cathleen eyed me silently, before turning to head to the couch with her plate in hand. "We'll see, Mrs. Black-Out-Drunk-Bar-Fight."

"He's coming by tomorrow," I offered as I joined Cathleen on the couch, barely unable to contain a surge of excitement at the thought. She picked up the remote, switching on the TV and turned it to Friends.

"Do you think it's a good idea to have some strange guy over?" Tyler asked, finally adding something to the conversation.

I looked at him, shaking my head. "I don't think it will hurt anything," I said, ignoring his choice of adjective. "It's not like he doesn't already know where I live. He dropped me off this morning."

"Did he come in?" Tyler asked stiffly.

I nodded.

Tyler got off the couch and stomped to the kitchen where he began to noisily fix himself a plate. I stared at Cathleen, questioningly.

She leaned closer to my ear so she could whisper.

"I think his PTSD is acting up again."

She leaned back, training her attention on the TV. I chewed on a bite of meat thoughtfully. Somehow, I doubted it was his PTSD.

The two of us finished dinner in silence, watching Friends. Tyler stood in the kitchen eating, violently stabbing at his plate with his fork. When he finished, he set the plate down on the counter, loudly gathered his things together, and left for his next shift.

Shortly after he left, I stood up and retreated to the kitchen to start cleaning up my mess. By the time I was through, it was dark out. I pulled my phone from my pocket to check the time, and frowned when I noticed that I had a few missed notifications. One was a text message from my mom. I scowled and deleted that one without reading it.

The next two notifications were alarms - reminders that had gone unnoticed after all the excitement. My eyes widened at this and I hurried to my room. I didn't even turn on the light, I just crossed the room to my dresser and pulled open the top drawer. I lined up the three pill bottles on top of my dresser, pulling out one pill from each. I then tossed them all in my mouth together, chasing the medication with a swig of water from an old water bottle I'd left on the dresser. I cleared the alarms from my phone, and noticed the last notification.

My phone had been on silent, so I'd missed a call from Jeremy just around the time I'd finished cleaning the kitchen.

I felt a flutter of panic as I stared at the missed call. What should I do? Call him back? Text him? 

I was at a loss.

Mulling things over silently, I crossed to my closet, changing into what I considered my pajamas - my black sports bra and jogger pants. I threw my nasty jeans and t shirt into the hamper, before returning to the bedroom. I stood there for a moment more, then just fell backward onto my mattress. I stared up at the dark ceiling, feeling my muscles relax. I supposed that if he had really wanted to talk to me,or it had been something important, he would have followed up the call with a text.

Right?

I bit my lower lip thoughtfully, and placed my phone on my stomach so as not to miss any more notifications. I waited...

At some point, I realized that sleep was starting to pull me under. I succumbed, feeling as though I were falling upward into the darkness, until I stopped feeling at all. My sleep was light and dreamless, like it always was. I was in another state of consciousness, but I could still hear every footsteps of the neighbors above us, the running water in the bathroom, the voices from the TV in Cathleen's room, the cars outside.

Everything around me echoed, sounding farther and farther away.

And then, suddenly, I was completely awake again.

I blinked, realizing that I'd rolled onto my stomach in my sleep. I pushed myself up, propping the upper half of my body up on my arms. I looked around the dark bedroom, searching out whatever had woken me up. My door wasn't closed, but I couldn't hear any noise coming from the living room or Cathleen's room.

Cautiously, I climbed out of bed. I picked up the soft gray cardigan that I kept folded up at the foot of my bed and pulled it on over my sports bra, before tiptoeing toward the bedroom door. I peeked through the crack, unable to see anything. When I pulled it open, I could see from my doorway that the living room was empty. I crept toward the couch, peering over the back of it. But it was empty - was Tyler still at work? How late was it?

I turned around, stepping into the kitchen. My eyes were still adjusting to the shadows when a warm hand grabbed my arm, and another firmly covered my mouth. I let out a muffled shriek and turned around, swinging my arms wildly to fend off my attacker.

"Calm down," a familiar, breathy voice whispered in my hair.

I froze, feeling goosebumps erupt along my shoulders and arms. I turned my head up, staring up at the dim outline of Jeremy's face. My eyes widened in surprise, and I grabbed his hand furiously, pulling him back into my bedroom. He followed me, keeping quiet, but I could sense a low chuckle vibrating in his chest. Once in the room, I released Jeremy's hand to shut the door as quietly as possible. I then hurriedly crossed over to my nightstand and switched on the lamp on my bedside table. It lit up the room in a soft, yellow glow.

"What are you doing here," I hissed at him. "You said you were coming in the morning."

Jeremy shrugged innocently. "It's after midnight, so technically it is morning. I tried calling you earlier, but you didn't answer."

I swore silently to myself, trying to calm my racing heart. "How did you get inside?" 

He smiled and held up a bent up credit card in his hand. He'd jimmied the lock?!

"You can't be doing that," I scolded him, and he nodded apologetically. 

I narrowed my eyes, but tried to calm down, Jeremy turned in a small circle, his eyes roaming over my bedroom. I followed his gaze awkwardly, suddenly feeling self conscious. I'd lived here for well over a year, but had yet to make this room feel -or even look- like home.

My bed - the mattress and box springs, sat on the floor with no frame, and it wasn't really decorated, only the gray comforter with white tribal patterns. The only other things in the room were the tall oak dresser, matching night table, lamp, and a stack several boxes near the closet that I had yet to even open. After all the time, I'd even forgotten what was in them. I had no photos or decorations. The room barely looked lived it, if I were honest, other than the full laundry hamper and ruffled bedding.

Jeremy had stopped moving his head and I followed his gaze to the dresser. My heart stopped when I realized what he was looking at. I hurried over and opened the top drawer, sweeping the collection of pill bottles haphazardly into it. I'd straighten them out after he left.

When I turned around, Jeremy was staring at me, his head tilted slowly to the side with eyes full of questions. My cheeks were still red. I pulled my cardigan closed as I crossed my arms over my stomach and looked down at my toes. I didn't want him to ask about the pills - I wasn't ready to give him a rundown on my mental health. Deep down, I hoped I would never need to. I wasn't sure how this bond worked, but I didn't want to run the risk of running him off with my baggage.

I jumped back a bit,knocking my back into the dresser, when I felt Jeremy brush some hair behind my ear. I looked up at him, and it was as though he heard my thoughts. All of that unbridled passion was dancing like a flame in his irises. He moved his palm to my cheek and bent his face down to mine, claiming my lips once again.

The kisses were slow and sweet at first. One of his hands was on my neck, just under my chin. The other was wrapped up in my hair. I held onto each of his wrists, being pulled in by his kisses. He pulled me over to the bed, not once breaking the kiss. When he sat down, he pulled me down on top of him. I straddled his lap, my knees on either side of his hip. I moved my hands to his neck as his hands wandered. I wasn't wearing a shirt, and Jeremy left white hot trails all down my sides, my back, my stomach -

His nimble fingers seemed to be concentrating on my stomach, making wide, inquisitive circles around my navel. I pulled away swiftly, breaking the kiss. I leaned back as far as I could, still straddling him, and looked down at Jeremy with wide eyes. His eyes opened in surprise, glancing down at his fingers that were still hovering against my skin. I stumbled off of Jeremy's lap and sat down next to him on the mattress, pulling my cardigan closed, completely mortified.

"What's wrong," he asked me softly, nudging me with his shoulder.

I sat frozen, my fists closed tightly in my cardigan, my thoughts racing. Finally, I found the words and opened my eyes.

"We're doing things the human way, right?" I asked quietly, staring at the floor.

Jeremy didn't say anything, so I continued.

"The human way would be to take things a little slower."

Jeremy let out a near silent hum. "How slow? Third date slow? Or are we thinking of a year long engagement?"

I forced a quiet chuckle and leaned against his warm shoulder. "Let's play it by ear," I decided. "Get to know each other a little more, first." I looked up at him. His expression was so impassive, I couldn't decipher what he was thinking.

But he nodded in silent agreement. I stood up, switching the lamp off and slid underneath the covers. I let out a yelp when Jeremy slid into bed right next to me.

"We're still going to cuddle," he told me solidly.

I was laying on my side, staring at him in the darkness with wide eyes.

"You're not taking away cuddling," he reaffirmed, punching one of my pillows into shape beneath his head.

I failed miserably to suppress a small smile. I closed my eyes, feeling the mattress shift as Jeremy adjusted himself. He wasn't exactly cuddling me, but he laid on his side, facing me, holding one of my hands as it rested under my head, beneath my pillow. I was a little grateful that he was just holding my hand, because I was sure that the more body contact we had, the harder it would be for us to take it slow.

It wasn't long before a deep, dreamless sleep dragged me under.