The breath he lets out is shaky but deliberate, a valiant effort to regain control of himself, gripping her hand in his own, his other rising to press against his chest. His own heartbeat thuds against the metal of his palm like a war drum, a familiar beat in his blood.
In. Out. In. Out.
Slowly, he sinks onto the bed next to her, grasping her hand like a lifeline. Focus on the sounds of her breathing, the warmth of her hand in his own, the way the bed sags under their combined weight to tip them ever so slightly closer to each other.
What does he need? Even now, after months of sobriety, it's on the tip of his tongue to ask for the one thing she will not give. Knowing that it would serve him no real comfort, nevertheless it pulls at him, and if he did not need to leave the house to find the drink he desires, that temptation might be too much to resist. It's unfair that he should still be haunted so, despite all the progress he's made. But he is not alone, not left to face his demons in the dark.
"Talk to me," he asks instead, hoping that he does not sound as small as he feels.
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In. Out. In. Out.
Slowly, he sinks onto the bed next to her, grasping her hand like a lifeline. Focus on the sounds of her breathing, the warmth of her hand in his own, the way the bed sags under their combined weight to tip them ever so slightly closer to each other.
What does he need? Even now, after months of sobriety, it's on the tip of his tongue to ask for the one thing she will not give. Knowing that it would serve him no real comfort, nevertheless it pulls at him, and if he did not need to leave the house to find the drink he desires, that temptation might be too much to resist. It's unfair that he should still be haunted so, despite all the progress he's made. But he is not alone, not left to face his demons in the dark.
"Talk to me," he asks instead, hoping that he does not sound as small as he feels.