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Zoning out on the couch, but I wasn't watching the tv show playing peacefully in the background. Flashbacks to that island cloud my mind until my eyes are glazed over with numb, unshed tears. If the weather were to suddenly change for the worse or if the sound of rain was to suddenly play on the tv I would be doomed. Spiralling out of control with my blankets falling off my shoulders when I would flinch in fear.
Ezra casually strolled up to take a seat beside me though immediately he saw my tension, dropping to the seat cushion beside me,
"Hey now- Feelin' under the weather?"
He reached out his hand to comfort me but the sudden shock back to reality just put me more on edge, my breath hastening like I'd run a marathon. I hardly processed his words through the thick layer of fear, meekly replying,
"I'm sorry.. What.. What was that..?"
His expression softened, not with pity but with genuine worry, his hand softly pulling back to keep the boundary it seemed I needed. In reality, I couldn't think of anywhere I'd want to be more than in his embrace right now.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?"
His voice was soft, gentle and southern, a soothing aspect about him I'd come to adore over the years. It wore down my guard fence word by word, the kind way he was restraining his touch said more than his flowery language ever could. His head tilted so he could face me fully, his gaze was a comforting sight,
"Can you tell me?"
I knew I could trust Ezra the way he trusted me; the deep secrets he would share at his most vulnerable. PTSD symptoms appearing weren't uncommon in the household, we'd both experienced our fair share of horrors and we were open about our triggers. That's what kept us so close; connected by something that felt deeper than just simple attraction. With this trust in mind I took his hand and squeezed like it was a lifeline and confessed the painfully intrusive thought under my breath as if voicing it would physically hurt,
"It's not.. It's not my fault."
He needn't raise any questions or pry, stroking over my knuckles with his thumb in a reassuring manner. He recognised the signs of when I was engulfed in delusions of the past and always did his best to nurture me in this state, as I would for him. I fell into his chest to attempt to stop my shivering, the grip on his hand deadly in my imagination. He rested some of his weight on my side; another grounding technique that worked on me quite well.
"Ain't your fault."
Ezra repeated my words quietly into my hair as I rested in the crook of his neck, tears finally escaping and running down my cheeks. I shook my head- unsure of what I really meant by the gesture. My body simply reacted in fear as I clutched onto his hand for dear life, the other hugging around him to hold him as close as possible. He nuzzled his nose to my hair, whispering sweet assurance as I broke down in his shoulder,
"You're safe, sweet dove. Not a hair on your precious head will be hurt, I swear it."
I believe him- truly I do, even if my mind and body betrayed me with this disassociation onto the island. It took so much of my strength to not see Ezra as the enemy in the beginning of this relationship, though the longer I knew him the easier it was to fall under the soothing spell of his assuring words. He, out of anyone, knows what it's like to want to be left alone but this clearly wasn't one of those times. My grip to his body could strangle the weak.
Ezra was the furthest thing from weak. I'd seen his courage with my own eyes and heard tales of his time as a prospector. Nothing could sway my mind, that he was capable and comforting all in one.
"You're right here with me. We're home and we're not headed anywhere."
Home. That's right where I am when in his grasp like this. Sometimes the warmth feels foreign to me, other times I am homesick for his touch. My racing heart was starting to steady and opening my eyes became less overwhelming while I gathered my thoughts. What was real and what wasn't become clearer to me the more Ezra stroked down my hair in a gentle pattern.
I wasn't in any danger of hyperventilating anymore nor was I shaking nearly as badly- only small occasional stress induced tics that had me shaking my head or lurching forward.
"Well done, dove. You're doing a magnificent job."
His words were no longer blurred in fog, but a soothing breeze that washed my mind of anguish and replaced it with bliss. Reassurance in his voice. It was my rock.
My grip on him had loosened without my knowledge, though I'm sure he could feel the difference. It was a wave of calm; clarity.
There wasn't a raindrop to be heard anymore.
I sniffled into my sleeve as I slowly gathered my bearings, pulling myself together enough to at least look Ezra in the eyes. I gave a smile which he knew was my nonverbal way of saying thanks in this fragile state. His hand had drifted under my chin to analyse my features in the light of the tv and he wiped my cheeks that were in trouble of being stained by my sadness.
I took the opportunity to lean into his touch and hold his palm against me, taking a deep breath and finally becoming coherent enough to compose myself.
My voice came out smaller than intended, but the weight the words held bled through Ezra,
"Sorry.. I'm sorry."
He didn't bother responding to such a thing, we agreed on giving that up long ago. Neither of us had anything to apologise for during our episodes, no matter how long they would occasionally last. All he did in this moment was pull me in to embrace me closer, subtly telling me not to worry about a thing.
I pulled the blanket over the both of us, inviting him to stay without having to squeak out anything else. His warmth was my home, I remember, telling myself in circles and circles. It was much better than the spiralling thoughts before he came to my side. He proved that fact by wrapping his arm around my waist and acting like a pillow while we absentmindedly tuned in to watch the tv show.
Ezra laughs, soft in his chest, tone of voice as sweet as sugar despite his brutally honest observation,
"I always kinda hated this movie. The actor's no good."
I couldn't help but snort, immediately going into a spiel about how it's a series, actually, and how perfectly the actors portrayed different characters from the book it was originally based on. Seeing the grin on his face grow the more emphasis I put into my words is when I finally realised why he made the comment in the first place.
To distract me from the feelings my small episode had arisen within me. And it worked like a charm- he knew me inside and out.
I slapped his chest playfully when I trailed off, focusing back on his embrace. Focusing on my home. He kissed my forehead and we slipped into a comfy night together, the weight of our pasts as light as a Summer downfall now the inner storm had passed. It went without saying, I love him deeply for the gentleness he shows me on a daily basis.