"I'm sorry." Her voice hitched and she released my arms as tears suddenly brimmed her eyes. The way she looked at me, the horror and rage that tangled with shock, reminded me of only one other person in my life.
My throat tightened and I choked on a sob. No one had made me cry in years, from their reaction and its intensity. All the interviews, all the lawyers, everyone with their stone faces and sad eyes, they all looked at me with pity or disgust. Except Rebecca and her colleagues. Seattle P.D. detectives and cops, they saved me from everything. My parents, the foster homes, everything.
"I'm so sorry, Rosie." Samirah's hands shook as she clawed at the carpet beneath us. Her calm, reasonable demeanor faded into her despair. My tears didn't only belong to my own story, but for hers as well. Her reaction seemed extreme at best, and I blinked away my tears to watch her. She covered her face with one hand, the other lingered on the floor in the small space that separated us.
"I shouldn't have told you like that. I'm sorry." I reached out a shaking hand and gave her shoulder a squeeze. "Samirah?"
She shook her head, a few sobs catching her as she placed her hand on top of mine. "No, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that happened to you. I shouldn't have asked that way."
I sniffled and wiped my eyes on my sleeve to clear away the smeared eyeliner. "It's not your fault. I just...I wanted you to know what happened to me. Why I'm this way."
"Why you are what way?" She met my gaze again, her eyes shimmering with dampness as she lowered my hand to her lap. I held on to her like an anchor in the sand.
"Why I got angry after our hike. Why I don't like being in public. Why I get anxious around people." I shrugged and sniffled. "I don't know why you like me, Samirah. I don't know why I even agreed to come here tonight."
She stopped talking at that point, and only soft sobs left her as she watched me. She stroked my cheek in a barely-there touch while holding my hand just as tightly as I held hers. Her cries broke my heart, and my facade crumbled there on the carpet. I dropped my head down on my bent knee while holding the hand of a stranger. The fact that I wanted her to touch me, to make me feel better, made me cry almost as much as the reason for my initial tears. I listened to her soft sniffles, and felt the heat of her body in front of me. The moment her hand made it to my head, my entire body shuddered. She ran her fingers through my hair, her nails grazing my scalp, and luscious tingles of pleasure poured down my body like a sun-warmed vat of nectar. Goosebumps coated my skin and my breath left me on a shaky exhale. The gesture soothed me more than anything had in my whole life. More than any superficial hug, more than any civil shoulder pat.
She repeated the movement, and I closed my eyes, allowing myself to melt into her affection. The world faded away from me. The pain from my memories, and the discomfort of ghosts invading my body no longer existed. Samirah gathered my hair over my shoulder, and continued to stroke from my ear, around my head, then down my back. A quaking breath escaped my lips and a wave of calmness settled my screaming insides.
I peeked up to look at her, and tears still dampened her cheeks, though her calmness returned. She held my hand in her lap against her belly, and I gave her a squeeze of acknowledgement. In that moment, she gave me something I never even knew I craved. Never knew I could want so much. She was some kind of magic person. A witch or sorcerer who tapped a wand of serenity against my forehead. I couldn't fathom the thought of moving away from her, or of breaking from this indulgent tangle.
We must've stayed like that for a long time, because when I opened my eyes again, darkness covered the windows and only the dim light from the kitchen illuminated us. Samirah released my hair, and almost immediately I mourned the disconnection.
"Can I hug you?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I nodded, and lowered my leg to return her embrace. Our arms wrapped around each other and I stroked her back in a firm circle.
"Thank you for dinner," I said, taking in the scent of her sweet perfume. "And for caring about me."
"Thank you for letting me," she said when we leaned back. "I'm sure your story doesn't end there."
"I don't think yours does either…" I swiped at my cheeks and she shook her head. "I should go."
"Are you sure? We could watch a movie or I can make some coffee." Samirah stood up with me, both of us slightly wobbly on our feet.
"I really should go." My mind screamed its disdain for my statement, and my body churned with nausea over my forced separation.
"All right," she said, taking a deep breath after.
I picked up my purse and she walked me to the door. Once in the hall, I turned to look back at her while she leaned against the doorframe. All the hope and playfulness drained from her eyes, and I blamed myself for the loss of her light.
"Will I see you again?" she asked, her voice soft.
"Do you really want to?"
"More than anything." A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.
A lump rose in my throat, and I found myself rushing back toward her. She didn't miss a beat in catching me in a hug so firm that my feet nearly left the ground. I buried my face against her shoulder and she cupped the back of my head for a moment.
When I leaned back, I gazed up at her and brushed my knuckles over her cheek. She smiled and turned to kiss my fingers. The tender gesture brought a smile to my forlorn lips and I pressed my palm to her face.
Her gaze flickered from my eyes to my mouth, and in the boldest move to ever come from my life, I pressed up on my tiptoes and caught her in a delicate kiss. My body exploded with sensations, awakened from the numbness I often carried. Samirah's arms wrapped around my waist, then slid up my back as our kiss deepened with my sudden life-filled fury. I cupped her face in my hands and indulged in her, and the sensations our connection brought. Before we parted, she stroked my cheeks then ran her fingers through my hair, and my gasp ended our connection. An achy burn thrashed in my core, and I bit my bottom lip.
"Good night, Rosie," she whispered against my lips before kissing me again. Her heart slammed against my palm that she held to her chest and the ruckus matched the pulse beating in my ears.
"G'night, Sam," I broke our kiss to say.
"See you tomorrow?" She gripped my hand as I slowly backed away from her. I nodded, holding on to her until our fingers couldn't reach anymore.
"See you tomorrow."
The image of her standing there in the doorway, biting her lip as she smiled at me, burned into my brain as I made for the elevator.