Page 48 of Hell and High Water

“Everything. Say something I can trust.”

Because it just hit me hard how vulnerable I really feel.

I’ve been wounded, not just physically, by everything I’ve gone through. And I haven’t had time to process, to work through any of it.

I’m not sure I know how.

“I know what it’s like to have your foundations shaken. To pretend everything's fine,” he starts, resting his hands on my hips.

“Everything is fine with Gavin. But Evan, and you… we barely know one another.”

“I’ve told you more than I’ve ever told anyone else. But I know that’s not enough.” His eyes flick to the side, thinking. “You want to know something real? The realest thing I can think of is that nothing in my life has been the same since I met you. I have never known peace before. I have always just gotten by. Since we met, there has been more danger, more chaos… but I've been more at ease than I could ever imagine.”

I wait, watching him sift through the wave of emotions passing between us.

“See, I've always been a little neurotic. I told you I have tics and compulsions. The character that I play at home with my dad, the one you saw at the Ball? That's not who I am anymore. It used to be, though. Growing up, I was a walking mental health crisis. My parents didn't really know what to do with me.

“They stuck me with a shrink. They stuck me in a home for a little while. Finally, when I was a teenager, they sent me away to boarding school, which didn't stick, either. I ran away.”

It makes me think of Evan, the few things he’s revealed about his own past.

They are so similar, yet so unique in the ways they’ve overcome their trials.

My chest feels like it might burst, listening to him open up to me, hoping against hope that it’s real.

“I shut myself away from everyone until I could figure myself out, and that's when I started playing other characters. Other personas who weren't me. Who weren't damaged.”

“We’re all a little damaged, Tell. That doesn’t mean you are bad or broken.”

“No, but it felt that way. The person I was wasn’t someone many people could accept, so I couldn't accept him. Funny thing is, I wasn’t even a real person. Not until I finally stopped shutting it all out and faced it.

“It’s still hard. The tics are borderline uncontrollable sometimes.”

“Like what?”

“A lot of it is stereotypical OCD stuff. Flipping light switches, wanting to lock a door nine times. Meds worked for a little while, but they always made me numb, turned me into a zombie. So I funneled that itching energy into other things.”

Watching him intently, listening to him open up, echoes so many of my own insecurities surrounded me. With a smooth movement, I slip my shirt off, exposing myself above him.

Even if it’s just my naked body, I want him to feel that I am completely open to him, too. For me, it was always about my figure, my size.

Just like that, I see him soften, his gaze meeting mine, understanding.

“When I’m with you, Hellena, the buzzing noise in my head goes quiet. I can focus.”

“I feel it too, you know. The calm. The happy.”

“It’s amazing…” His eyes drift down to my nipples, hardening at the sight of him drinking me in. “You’re amazing. And I’m not saying that you’re some magic cure-all. You just… help me find the center, ground me. That’s where I know who I am, what’s real.”

“Then stay with me.” I lean over him, taking his lips, tasting his kiss and savoring the electric shock it sends down my spine.

“I’ll never take you for granted again. I promise. No lies.”

“Not that we’ve gotten much of a chance to explore this.” I run my fingers along his cheek, his eyebrows, down the tip of his nose. “You're a beautiful creature, Tell.”

“Says the goddess lying on top of me.”

Tell rolls me over, laying me down, pushing a strand of hair out of my face.

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