Chapter Text
The prayers I exclaimed in my head last night did not work. My ears perk up at the sound of faint dripping outside the window, the aftermath of the storm slowly leaving as the morning sun streams in through the dusty curtains. I faintly remember making our way into the bedroom, using the mattress we left on the floor. Abby is still asleep. My head is resting on her bare chest, her slow even breaths making me want to close my eyes and go back to sleep, but I know better than to try and sleep in late while working.
Raising myself up slowly so as not to wake her, I sit up and wipe the crust away from my eyes, trying to remember as much detail as I can from the night. Why did it have to end? I would give anything to live the night over again, to devote myself to her as I did last night. The morning is too quiet, too light. Nothing compared to the night, to the panting and sweating and moaning that we created together, the candles lighting our shadows.
All I am left with is my breath as I find myself looking over my shoulder, my eyes scanning her body up to her face. Her strong body, the heavy blanket only partially covering it as the morning light streams through the window, creating waves over the bed, illuminating everything from her body hiding under the blanket, to the lips on her face, warm and still. I know I should wake her up, but she needs this rest. It’s not fair how beautiful she is, even while sleeping.
What would’ve happened if I didn’t say all those things last night, if she didn’t explain herself? What would’ve happened if we didn’t listen to one another, if I had just decided to go to bed? I’d be waking up by myself, alone and wondering what she was thinking. Is she thinking about me, about our fight? Does she regret working with me? What is she dreaming about right now? Has she ever dreamt of me?
Her body shifting takes me away from these thoughts as she partially opens her eyes, a yawn escaping her perfect mouth.
“Good morning,” she says lazily as her eyes find themselves closing again, her raspy words barely able to escape her lips as they come out as a whisper. And it dawns on me that this is the first night we’ve spent together. She didn’t run away this time. She didn’t slip out in the middle of the night to leave me by myself. In fact, she held me through the night. Her arms surrounded me as I fell asleep to her breathing and her heartbeat making its way through her chest, filling my ears until I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. Her reassurance enveloped me, soothing me into the best sleep I’ve had in a long time.
When will be the next time I’m able to do this, to fall asleep next to her and to wake up with her again? Will I have to suffer and wait like I did before, waking up in the middle of the night to find my body touching myself again and again? Will I be brought to tears not knowing the next time I’m able to speak with her again, to look at her?
I ask myself these questions already knowing the answer. I will wait as long as I have to. I will cry as many tears as my body will allow to escape my eyes. I will make myself cum as many times as I want to the mere thought of her. If she asks it, I will crawl to her, make my hands and knees bloody until she allows me to submit my body to her over and over again.
I don’t have to wait as long as I thought. The rest of the patrol goes as normal and quietly as it could. The day consists of Abby and I meeting back up with Leah and Manny in the morning, discussing how patrol has been so far, and then separating later in the afternoon. I still find those two sharing funny looks with one another, and I have no doubt they talk about Abby and I once they get back to their camp. I don’t blame them though, I would be curious too if two people who didn’t say one word to another one day and then acted perfectly fine the next day were camping together. I wonder what stories they make up in their minds.
I try not to set any expectations in my mind for when we separate from Leah and Manny and head back to camp. But for these next few nights the same thing happens. We finish eating and begin to clean up and start getting ready for the next day. I find myself slowly separating myself from her throughout the evening, trying not to get my hopes up, trying not to play a scene in my head that won’t come to fruition. But she always finds me. As I start walking down the hallway her fingers find their way to my wrist and she slightly tugs my body towards her.
“Will you sleep with me tonight?,” she asks. “It’s easier to fall asleep with someone else in the room, and I don’t-.”
“You know you don’t need to explain yourself,” I tell her. She slowly nods her head, almost looking embarrassed to even ask me the question.
We find ourselves on the same mattress each night, doing nothing more than merely holding each other as we drift off to sleep, but it's so much more than I can ask for. To have her be beside me, her skin against mine, to be in such a vulnerable position with each other, sleeping beside one another as we breathe each other in. These nights are where I hold my devotion to her, where I allow my mind to wander into perfect scenarios of us two. Does this devotion have a limit? I don’t think I will ever find it.
The drive back to the stadium doesn’t seem as long or heavy as the drive there a few days ago. Abby is driving back this time with me taking the passenger seat. I’m trying not to overthink about what will happen when we get back. A part of me is convinced that everything should go back to the way it was, it would make it so much easier. But the honest part of me knows it could never go back to the way it was, to us hating each other. Maybe if we hadn't slept together in the house, it would make it painless. Maybe if we hadn’t slept together in the first place, this eventual separation of us would be uncomplicated. But to even think that is a sin. To think that I would want to wish those nights away fills me with more shame. Why does she have to do this to me?
My stomach is in my throat as we pull into the lot, Leah and Manny taking no time to say goodbye and part ways out of the car. I try to act as normal as I can, I try to not show how I’m feeling on the inside. But she knows better. We both stay in the car for a few seconds, waiting for the other person to say something knowing after this we’ll go back to our regular lives and schedule. The weight of the moment is too much and I feel suffocated, but just as I open my door to leave Abby takes my hand, making me pause in my seat.
“I-I, um, want to thank you. For keeping me company at night these past few days,” she says nervously, her eyes darting around the car as though to try and not to keep eye contact with me.
“Oh, you don’t have to thank me. It wasn’t that big of a deal,” I say, trying not to spill my guts out and tell her how those moments meant everything to me.
“No, no it really was. I don’t think you understand how long it’s been since I’ve had a good rest like that. It was really nice knowing that I would be able to fall asleep that night and stay asleep, to not have to worry about any nightmares,” she makes eye contact with me this time as she says this, her dark blue eyes weakening me. “Thank you, truly.”
I should have left it at that, I should have assured her it wasn’t a grand gesture and to part ways to make it easier on myself. But I never make it easy on myself, so I’ll show her a portion of myself. A part of myself that I know is true and one that I cannot hide any longer. A part of myself that, each day since the first night with her, has been fighting to come up to the surface, to make itself known. I cover her hand with my own, mirroring my eyes with hers as I lean in a little bit closer to her face.
“Abby, I would do anything you asked of me if you let me.”
I can’t bring myself to wait and see what her reaction is after I say this, after I bare a piece of myself to her. My body is moving faster than my head as I exit the vehicle, not knowing what’s happening until I am already back in my room. I close my eyes and lean up against the door, breathing deeply to calm myself. Why did I tell her? Why did I have to tell her that specific thing? A simple thing that is not so simple.
Sleep does not find its way to me tonight. I am left laying in bed, tossing and turning trying to find a comfortable position, any position to ease this gnawing inside my head. Turns out Abby isn’t the only one out of the two of us that found it easier to sleep with the other person in bed. I should have known better, knowing that sleeping beside her would be easier than sleeping alone. Knowing that waking up with my head on her chest would be easier than waking up with nothing but a messy room. I soon find myself thinking about her. About how beautiful and peaceful she looked in the mornings, her braid slightly messy as it flowed down her strong back, the muscles showing through her skin even in her most calm moments. Her jaw framing her face in a way that accentuated every feature on it, from the freckles covering her cheeks, to the rosy tint on her full lips.
I can’t help but touch myself to the thought of her. Knowing that just a few nights ago I was on my hands and knees for her, tasting her, adoring her body the way it deserves. Is she touching herself thinking about me right now too? Is she in her bed, lips spread as she’s teasing herself thinking about what I sound like, what I look like as she makes me cum over and over again? Does she taste herself, trying to convince herself that it is me all over her fingers instead?
I’m almost at my climax when a quiet knock at the door pulls me out of it. Fuck. I quickly pull my hand out of my shorts, wiping my hand off on the inside of my shirt as I stumble to the door, quickly taking a glimpse at the clock. It reads 1:56am. Whoever is at the door must need something important if it's at this time of night.
I hurriedly turn on a lamp and get to the door, trying to not look as frazzled as I feel. The beam of the hallway light shines into my room as I open the door, the light making my eye’s squint as I make out who’s standing in front of me. I should be more surprised, but I’m not as Abby stands outside of my room.
“I-I’m sorry to wake you,” she starts.
“No, no it’s okay. Is everything alright?,” I ask honestly.
“Yeah, yeah everything’s okay,” she says, but even she’s shaking her head as she’s saying it. “Actually, no, not everything’s okay. I-I, um, I can’t go to sleep and was wondering if I could stay here tonight?”
She already knows the answer. I nod my head, opening the door even wider to let her know she’s allowed inside. She quickly takes her shoes off, peeling off layers of her clothes until all that’s left is her tank top and underwear. She climbs into the inside of the bed as I turn the lamp off and slide in beside her, the ease of knowing she’s beside me instantly making my demeanor more calm.
Even in the dark I can tell we are facing each other, our bodies and hands and faces inches away from one another. A part of me wants to sleep, to drift into nothingness as long as she is laying beside me. But another part of me wants to show her what I do when I think about her, to tell her she has no limits to my body, to exclaim she can do anything she wants to me.
Slowly, I turn myself onto my back, trying to get my breathing under control, to give any impression that I have control of the situation. My hand slowly pulls my shirt back up, exposing my breasts and hard nipples to her. I can tell she’s still awake and watching because her breathing quickens, her body slowly becoming closer to mine.
My hand slides back down into my shorts, finding itself back to my clit, swapping the wetness in-between my folds and back to the clit, teasing myself as much as I can take. I was close before she got here, and even with me just touching it again for a minute brings me right back to where my need left off. The sound itself is filthy, filling the room as my panting becomes even more pronounced. I look beside me to find Abby now on her back as well, pleasuring herself at the same time as I am, her hand buried in her underwear.
“Is this what you were doing before I got here? Touching yourself like this?,” she asks through heavy breaths and flush cheeks.
“Yes,” I say, not willing to hide myself from her anymore.
“Do you think about me when you do this? When you’re teasing and burying your fingers into yourself, do you wish it was me?”
“Yes,” I say again, “always.”
Heat continues to grow in my pelvis and between my legs as we continue to watch each other, hearing the wetness leak from our bodies as our breathing becomes heavier, quicker, in-pace with one another. Right before each of us hit our climax, she takes my fingers from my other hand into her mouth, sucking on them, her tongue rolling over my fingertips, her teeth grazing my skin. The thought alone of her tongue on my skin pushes me over the edge, which in turn pushes her into her own orgasm. We are left as two sweaty bodies, heaped together on this bed, each of us trying to catch our breath as the aftershocks slowly dissipate from our flesh. Please, let this never end.
This is our routine for months. Finding time for each other whenever we can, taking turns spending the night at each other’s place. Her friends know about us, but we have yet to define exactly what our relationship is. We’ll take our time though, she’s worth taking the time to figure out what we want for each other, especially knowing she will be out of town for a while.
A few nights ago she told me her plan to head to Jackson, Wyoming. She found a lead on the man who killed her father and she wants to seek it out as quickly as possible. I tried convincing her to have me tag along, but she doesn’t want me to go. She doesn’t want me to risk her life for her own, because she knows that I would in a heartbeat. She knew I would offer myself too, which is why she already asked Isaac to keep tabs on me while she’s gone, not that that will stop me from trying to go along with the group.
I don’t blame her for trying to find him, but I’m scared. I’m scared I’ll never see her again, I’m scared she won’t come back as the same person. I’m scared that even if she does find him and get her revenge, will that change anything for her? Will she still have nightmares when she sleeps by herself?
Watching her now as she sleeps, I don’t have these answers, no one does, not even her. All I know is that she’s worth waiting for, and I’ll still be here when she gets back, whether that means she comes back the same person or not. Even now, as I lay beside her sleeping body, it’s all I can hope for, her safe return back to me. Please, bring her back to me.