My first thought was, what did just do? Through my window, I could see that the sun was setting, and I knew my parents would be home soon. Usually, I didn't mind this, but I was naked in my bed with someone else. He was still asleep with his arms locked around the front of me and his face in the nape of my neck. I guessed that it was supposed to be a romantic thing, but I couldn't help but feel hot and irritated; I needed to move.
Unraveling his hands, I slipped away from him and to the other side of the bed. A dull pain grew in my hips as I moved, and I sighed knowing that I was going to be in pain for a while. Behind me, Nix stirred from his sleep. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice tied down with sleepiness.
Leaning down, I picked my clothes off of the floor and slid them on while I answered him. "I'm going to go take a shower before my parents gets home," I told him, turning to face him. The covers of my bed had slid off of him to his waist, and I could feel my face flush with heat.
"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked, hopeful, but I shook my head.
"I need a little space," I answered, and his eyes clouded up with worry. However, he smiled at me anyways and let me go to the bathroom myself.
As I walked to the bathroom, the pain alluded to me that I wasn't going to be able to shower, but maybe bath instead. I ran the water as hot as I could stand it and climbed in without hesitation. The water burned into my skin and down into my sore muscles. I sighed, nothing could be better than this.
Washing quickly, I tried not to think, but of course my mind wondered anyways. Was it really okay what I did? To do something that intimate with someone I barely knew. And was it okay otherwise? To let someone touch me after all this time seemed stupid. How many doctors had I've seen that all told me that it couldn't be fixed?
A knock at the bathroom door interrupted my thoughts and I was quick to cover myself. "Come in?" I said meekly, wondering why he was knocking.
Seconds later, Nix walks in with a stack of clothes in his hands and awkwardly sets them on the sink's counter top. "Sorry, you forgot clothes."
My face heats up with embarrassment and I sink farther into the water, muttering my thanks to him. Much to my surprise, however, he doesn't leave, but instead sits down beside the tub, facing me. "Is your body okay?" he asked timidly, as if he's afraid of the answer itself. When I think about it from his point of view, I think I would be afraid too.
I answer quickly, muttering again from my embarrassment, and causes him to from. He doesn't believe me. "Prove it," he says softly, and reaches his hand out towards me.
At first I don't understand what he wants. Does he want me to stand to see if I'm too sore to do it? But as I stare at him, I realize that that's not what he was talking about at all. He wants to touch me.
Hesitantly, I raise my hand up out of the water and reach towards him. My hands shake a little as I try to breathe or focus, but I'm thinking too much. I don't know if I'm okay either; what if I can't do this? Carefully, I finally bring my hand to his and from the touch, I wait.
When nothing happens and no bad feelings come up, I can feel my whole body relax with relief. I'm really okay. As I wrap my fingers around his, Nix's smiles and relaxes as well.
Then, Nix moves to get up, only to stop to kiss me quickly and it warms me more than the water. When he stands, he releases my hand, still smiling. "I'll let you enjoy the rest of your bath then," he says and I smile back at him, watching him leave.
When I'm finished with my bath, I quickly change and go downstairs following the smell food. In the kitchen I find Nix cooking something on the stove, and I walk over to him. "I didn't know you could cook," I say and he smirks.
"I got to eat, don't I?" he replies and I smile back, happy to see him in his normal mood.
"Doesn't your mom cook, though?" I ask, and for a moment, his smile fades, but he wills it stay.
Without looking at me he answers, "She's good at microwaving things."
I laugh a little, thinking to myself. Would he let me probe a little? I try it. "Do you dislike her?"
Again, his smile starts to fade but he seems unwilling to be unhappy and takes a deep breath. "There are just somethings that she's done that I have a hard time forgiving her for," he says carefully, not giving too much away. "Sometimes I'm a little too harsh, and I know that but I can't help but to resent her."
Seeing that the mood is dark, he adds, "But she's trying to get better so I guess I'll do that as well."
He smiles as he says it, and I find myself believing him. I move to sit up at the breakfast bar so I can watch him cook, and he starts with his turn. "You know most of everything about my parents," he says jokingly, "so tell me about yours."
I shrug. "They're normal so there's nothing to tell."
"I see," Nix says, but he doesn't look convinced. "How about your dad? I never see him."
"He works a lot, so he's usually never at home. But even when he is, he's locked up in his study," I answer. "He's an I.T. so he always has something to do."
"And that doesn't bother you?" Nix asks and I find myself thinking about that question for the first time.
"Sort of," I say after a moment. "Sometimes I feel like he's avoiding me. He was never this busy before-"
When I stop, Nix turns to me with a worried expression, so I force myself to continue. "-Before. Most of the time I'm fine with it, though. I get busy too and I don't even notice."
Even as I say it I know it sounds harsh. For a moment I'm ashamed to have said that, and then ashamed to know it's true. But when I look at Nix, he's not even fazed. Maybe we have more in common than I thought.
The front door opens and I jump at the noise. From outside, my mother walks in carrying bags of groceries, and I rush to go help her. Her eyes narrow as she sees Nix in the kitchen, but her glare softens as she notices what his doing. "You can cook?" she asks innocently, but we both hear the unsaid question. You can do something productive?
I silence a laugh as I set the bags on the counter, and Nix rolls his eyes. When Nix finishes with the food, we all sit down and eat quietly. The food is good, but not great, and I wonder to myself if Nix would ever do better than just good. For an above-average person, he seemed content with everything just as it was.
What if that's what I was? That I was just average and that I was okay for him. My connection should feel stronger now that we past another obstacle, but I only found myself afraid. Now that I had given him what he wanted, what else would keep him here?
Nix looked up from his food and smiled at me, and with great effort, I made myself smile back. He was independent, strong, attractive, and cunning; I was nothing. When he turned away, my smile fell. The only thing I could think was, he doesn't need me.