Behind Amethyst Eyes

Chapter 5- Strange Behavior

    Bright morning light shines through the living room window. Hues of red and orange envelop my vision as I lay there with my eyes closed, willing sleep to take me under again. I focus on my other senses as I lay there. A calming warmth surrounds me as I feel the blanket caress my skin. The peaceful silence is all I hear. I breath a sigh of content as I feel the hardness of the pillow under my head. I finally open my eyes and immediately inhale sharply. The memory of last night comes crashing down as I realize I’m not laying on a pillow, but on a pair of ridiculously firm legs. My body stills as I feel the soft rise and fall of Daniel’s breathing on my back. Slowly I attempt to untangle his arms from my waist and hair as I leave his warm embrace. I stand before him and take in the beautiful man sleeping serenely. Quietly, I tip toe back to my bathroom and turn on the shower.

    He stayed. After my meltdown and the horrific oversharing of my past, he stayed. I shouldn’t feel this way, but I can’t help the swell of emotion in my chest and the soft butterfly-like tingles in my stomach. With nerves flowing through every inch of me, I take a quick shower and head to my room to dress. I throw on my favorite pair of black jeans, a deep burgundy tank top, my trusty leather jacket, and favorite combat boots. As I walk back to the living room, I’m trying to figure out what’s next. Where do we go from here? Do I ask for his number? Do I let him leave without a second glance? No, I definitely do not want that to happen. My mind is an endless stream of what ifs and maybes as I try to keep my head above these uncharted waters. I round the corner of the hallway and I bump into a well-defined chest.

            “Oh shit.” I say as Daniel’s hand wraps around my waist before quickly snaking them away. I laugh quietly to myself as I wonder if this will happen all the time now. I look up into his eyes and all I see is confusion and concern clouding his usually bright eyes.

            “I’m sorry,” I say quietly trying hard to think of something else to say but coming up empty. My stomach grumbles and I’m about to ask if he wants some breakfast when he beats me to the punch.

            “I should leave.” He says with a blank expression. Shocked, I simply stare at him. I replay the events of last night to figure out what I could have done to make him want to leave so quickly. I come up empty. He stayed last night, but now he’s trying to rush out. Confusion and hurt are surely written plainly on my face. “I have some things to take care of this morning.” He explains.

            “Oh” is all the response I can muster. He moves to grab my hand, but jerks back as he thinks better of it. My mind starts moving at a hundred miles a minute, cursing myself for opening up and sharing my secrets with him. I wish, so desperately, that I could hit the redo button on last night so I can avoid this scene entirely. His features soften a bit when he realizes where my mind must be at.

            “Can I come see you later? I would like to talk about some things, but I do have to take care of something first.” He says in a softer tone. I nod stiffly as my embarrassment and hurt keep the words from forming. With one last look, he exhales sharply and all but runs out the door.

                                                                                               …

            Time passes agonizingly slow as I wait for a knock at the door. Not even my dream world offers an escape from my racing mind. I try to lose myself in my journal or my music, but all I can think about is how things will change. I’ve seen the man twice, but the dread I feel at his possible rejection haunts me. I try to let sleep offer some sort of refuge, but as soon as I close my eyes, his own shine bright before me. The silence of the empty house only fuels my thoughts even more.

            Katie had stayed at Mike’s last night. I haven’t told her that Daniel stayed with me yet because I still don’t know myself what it means. Instead of sulking in my bed the rest of the day, I decide to go make some food. I pull out everything I need to make a salad and some pasta and get to work. I turn on the music and will myself to focus on each word that is being sung. As I get the water boiling, I am fully singing to Nickelback’s “If Today Was Your Last Day”. For a few brief moments, I do find solace in the lyrics. I am so focused on the song I’m belting that I don’t hear the knock on the door or it shutting. I turn from my pot of boiling water and stand completely still as the breath hitches in my throat at the sight of seeing Daniel in my kitchen.

            “I’m sorry. I knocked and waited but then I heard you singing so I figured you couldn’t hear me. I tried the handle, and it was unlocked. I yelled a few times, but you just continued singing and I couldn’t help myself, so I just walked in.” He babbles nervously as I stare at him, mouth agape. My heart pounds violently against my ribs as the adrenaline pumps through my system. He looks nervous and unsure as he wipes his4 hands down the sides of his jeans. “I’m sorry…again”.

            “Are you hungry?” I ask him, still trying to calm myself. I point to the dinner in progress and say, “I’m making dinner and there’s plenty for two.”

            “Sure,” he replies as he takes a seat at the table. “Listen, about earlier…” he starts to say as I cut him off.

            “I’m making some pasta and salad. Do you like chicken? I was trying to decide between red or white sauce but I have some chicken so I could do chicken and white sauce.” I ramble as I’m rummaging through the fridge. “What kind of salad dressing do you like? I’m not huge on salad, but we’re low on groceries because I haven’t been to the store yet. I was going to go today, but I was too distracted to remember. We have ranch and Caesar. I think we have a bit of Italian too if you like that” I continue to ramble because I’m afraid of what will be said. I’m scared he’ll say exactly what I think he is going to say and I’m not ready to hear it. I’m not ready to hear that I’m too f****d up for him to deal with. I don’t want to hear that I spilled my guts too soon and it’s too much for him to handle. I’m not ready to not see him. I’m not ready to lose him.

            I turn around and see him patiently waiting for my ranting to stop. I ignore his pleading gaze and go back to finishing dinner. I feel his gaze piercing into my back, watching my every move. I’m draining the noodles when he speaks again.

            “Kara, please” he says. I don’t turn around. If I did, I know I’ll break down and I’ll have to hear the words I don’t want to hear. Instead, I ignore his plea and pretend he didn’t say a word.

            “So did you decide on a dressing? Ranch, Caesar, or Italian?” I ask with my back still turned. I pull out the ranch for myself and begin mixing the salad together. I’m plating the pasta and putting the salad in the bowls when I hear his sigh.

            “Ranch is fine.” He says. I grab the bowls and place them on the table along with the bottle of ranch. I bring the plates over and then go back to grab two glasses of water. I sit down and begin digging in without looking up at him. I can’t bring myself to look into his eyes. I don’t want to see the words that are written in his gaze. A swell of emotion rises from my stomach into my throat. I take a sip of water to try to push it down, but it doesn’t help. We sit it suffocating silence as he eats, and I push the drenched leaves around in the bowl. I keep my eyes trained to a scratch in the dark wood as I run a finger over it, tracing it back and forth. I try to force my mind away from the impending doom I fear is about to happen, but the thick blanket of tension elicits me to face it. I look up for the first time since he walked in and meet his gaze. His eyes are swallowed by sadness as his shoulders are slumped forward in defeat. I take in his appearance as I exhale a deep breath before starting the ending.

            “Say what you have to say.” My voice is empty. There is no personality behind it, no emotional inflictions, or broken words as I keep my emotions swallowed up in the deepest part of me. I sit there motionless, like a statue, waiting for the words I don’t want to hear. He takes a deep raggedy breath before he speaks.

            “I’m sorry for leaving earlier. I needed time to think things through and understand what is going on before we talked. I needed to get my head straight.” He pauses to look at me, really look at me. Probably looking for any signs of what I must be thinking. Truthfully, my mind is numb. I shouldn’t be worried if he stays or goes, I barely know him, but this feels bigger. Whatever this is, I don’t want to lose it. He sighs before starting again, not finding anything written on my face. “Last night, when you told me all of that, I was mad. I was so damn mad that I could barely see straight. I wanted to hurt that man. I wanted to leave and hunt him down, but you asked me to stay. I pushed down that anger and stayed because that’s what you needed and, in that moment, all I wanted to do was give you what you needed. When I woke up this morning, all that anger came flooding back. When I ran into you again, all I saw was the pain and torture you endured, and I couldn’t take it. So, I left. I had to leave. I was afraid to show you how angry I was. I was afraid to scare you. So, I left.” He pauses again, searching my eyes and coming up empty. “I’m sorry for leaving you. I shouldn’t have left like that, especially after you trusted me with your secret.” He leans over the table and wipes a traitorous tear from my cheek I hadn’t realized slipped. I stare at him, trying to process everything he just said. My unblinking eyes bore into him, trying to decide if he’s telling the truth or not. All I see is his innocent pleading eyes willing me to understand. I’m still staring when he speaks again. “Kara, please say something…anything” He pleads.

            I stand up and take our plates to the sink. I start scrubbing them, trying to find what to say written in the now dirty water. I realize I don’t have anything to say. I let this man in and he walked away. That stings. So, right now, screw you Daniel. Knowing I need to say something but still not knowing what to say, I ask the only question that’s been on my mind since early this morning.

            “What did you mean last night when you said, ‘you’d know those eyes anywhere’? What does that mean?” I ask as I turn around to look at him. The briefest look of shock and fear pass over his face before his features relax. He opens his mouth to explain, then closes it. He does this a few more times, trying to find the words to explain his meaning. His eyes never leave mine as he struggles to come up with the explanation. I lean against the counter with my arms folded across my chest and wait. I wait and wait for what seems like forever before he finally speaks.

            “I thought you were asleep.” That’s all he says.

            “Well, I wasn’t so what did you mean by it?” After a few minutes of waiting, I go back to doing the dishes. Not caring about how wet my cast is getting, I shove my hands in the water searching for the next thing to clean. Frustrated by his silence, I angrily grab the first thing I feel only realizing too late what it is.

            “s**t,” I hiss to myself as I pull my good hand out of the water to see a long gash down my palm. Blood is running down to my elbow from the cut the knife sliced into my hand. Daniel rushes over, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my hand. On contact with the towel, I hiss as it stings. Daniel places one hand on the towel, carefully applying pressure, while his other hand wraps around my elbow in a soft caressing way. The instant contact brings that warm jolt, relaxing me as I let out a soft sign in content. Warmth spreads across my palm, soothing the stinging pain. We stand there like that, his hand still wrapped gently around my elbow and stare into each other’s eyes. So many unspoken words are wrapping around us, cocooning us in our own little bubble. The longer we are locked there, unmoving, the less I feel the stinging and the more I feel the warmth. After what seems like forever, he breaks our trance and slowly unwraps the towel. I turn away to take a deep breathe after holding mine in for so long as he inspects the wound. I turn back towards him and stare wide-eyed at my hand. Shock and disbelief flows between the two of us as we look at my perfectly healthy palm. No gash is present, the only signs that anything had been there at all is the blood-soaked towel and a thin pink line in the exact spot the cut was before.

            “What the hell just happened?” I ask, still in complete disbelief. Daniel just shakes his head back and forth. I clench my fist to make sure I’m not seeing things. When I don’t feel any pain, I look at Daniel. His skin is slightly ashen as if he is going to be sick. “Daniel?” I try to get him to look at me. He abruptly turns, grabs his coat, and for the second time today, walks out my door without an explanation.