Jewel Ann - Idle Bloom

Vivian stops just inside the door as I continue forward, tossing my keys on the counter.

“Do you want something to drink?” I hate the uncertainty that’s in my voice, like I just made a huge mistake and now I don’t know what to do about it.

She shakes her head as intense eyes full of uncertainty track my every move. My phone chimes in my pocket. There’s a missed call and a message from an unknown number. I listen to it as Vivian continues to watch me, gauge me, unravel me.

It’s not the voice on the message, or the words, it’s the timing. I can’t hear anything past my own pounding pulse and all I see is red. Three years later and I hate her with every fiber of my being. I slam my phone on the counter shattering the face of it. Vivian jumps while standing in the middle of my living room. At some point she made her way to the mess of pillow filling and ripped fragments of material still strewn about the floor and couch.

“I’m … sorry. I should not have brought you here.” My feet take me to the stairs on their own accord because I’m so numb right now the only thing I feel is the suffocating compression on my sternum as my lungs fight for air. “Sor–sorry.” I stumble to my room and slam the door, ripping off my shirt because even the light weight of cotton feels like lead against my chest. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I hunch over with my head in my hands and cry. The pain pours out like a mix of blood and acid. The hate is all consuming and the pain is crippling.

The door creaks open. My emotions stall in my throat. I can’t look up, so all I see are her bare feet facing away from me.

“Please … go.” My voice cracks.

She doesn’t budge. Her shirt falls to the floor by her feet. I can only see the back of her legs from the knees down. What is she doing? Her bra joins her shirt on the floor.

She waits.

Her back is to me and then it hits me so hard––her back is bared to me.

Releasing my hands from my face, I move my gaze up to her back one slow inch at a time. She’s shaking like a delicate leaf and her hair is pulled off to one shoulder. I blink away my tears––twisted branches with flowers. Flowers everywhere and not one … single … one … is bloomed.

Oh. God!

Every intricate detail covers what’s lying beneath: scars—everywhere. Then she turns her head and glossy green eyes meet mine as she bites together her trembling lips.

“Vivian …” I whisper. “… beautiful, you’re … perfect.”

Tears spill down her cheeks. “No take backs?”

I smile, taking her hand in mine. She turns around and moves between my legs, brushing her hair off her chest. Pressing my lips to her palm, I close my eyes and crash. My whole world collides and she has no idea that in this moment she’s throwing me a lifeline. “No take backs.”

It kills me that someone so stunning inside and out has lived in fear of people changing their mind about her beauty. I wonder how long she’s lived with such insecurity. Even more, I wonder if any man has made her feel less than perfect. The pain in her eyes when she looks back at me tells me the answer is yes.

She begins to slip her skirt past her hips but I grab her wrists.

“Not tonight. I’m just …” I sigh. “I have too much on my mind, but soon. Okay?”

She pulls her skirt back up and nods while grabbing her bra and shirt. With a weak smile she turns away from me to finish dressing.

“Vivian?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re not upset are you?”

She shakes her head. I stand and walk in front of her as she buttons the last button.

“Are you sure?”

She looks at my chest. “Yes. I’ll just see you tomorrow or something.”

I cup her face and kiss her soft lips. It’s taking everything I have to let her go tonight, but she deserves my full attention and right now I’m being pulled apart.

“I’ll walk you home.”

“Don’t be stupid. It’s across the street.” Her voice is void of emotion as she turns and walks down the hall to the stairs.

I sense she’s at least a little disappointed, but I don’t know what more I can say or do tonight. Looking out the bedroom window, I watch her sprint down the front steps of the building and across the street. As she fumbles to get her key in the lock, I notice her arm keeps rubbing her eyes.

Shit! She’s crying.

Vivian

There’s approximately twenty strides from Oliver’s front door to mine, but I make it in less than ten. Holding myself together until I reach the safety of my sanctuary is excruciating, but not as much as yet another rejection. I saw his pain, but I couldn’t see past it. The message on his phone, the massacred pillow, the aching sound of his sobs, I wanted to take his pain away and I thought he could do the same for me. Letting my guard down, letting him see me … all of me.

I laid my heart on the floor in his bedroom; with his words he held it in his hands and with his eyes he gave it back to me. It was the first time someone has looked at my back and not had pity in their eyes. Doctors, my parents, Kai, Alex, they all had the same look, but not Oliver. In his eyes I saw a woman not a victim, and in that moment the scars faded and my heart felt reborn. Then he took it all away. Racked with nerves shaking my entire body, I needed him to wrap me in his arms and wash away the pain, insecurities, and ugliness that has plagued my body and mind.

He left me with nothing and I left him with a vision that will fester in his mind until he wakes up and sees what everyone before him has seen—too much to bear. I know that moment was real, but that moment has drifted away and I fear we can never get it back.

Locking the door behind me, I wipe my eyes. The room feels cold, bare, and lonely. Alex is gone, but I wish she were here. I need someone’s arms, anyone’s arms.

A pounding against the door startles me. My heart surges against my chest as the rest of my body stills against the door. I inch it open to see Oliver.

He’s here!

He holds my purse up, letting it dangle from his finger.

Oh, I just forgot my purse.

“Um, thanks.” I try to grab it without completely opening the door. He has his own problems; I don’t need to be one of them.

He pulls it away as I try to grab it.

“Vivian?”

“Hmm?”

“Open the door.”

I wipe my eyes and open the door with a defeated sigh. Oliver tosses my purse on the floor and frames my face in his hands. My brain wants to protest his touch, but my body can’t. Fragile blue eyes steal my breath so I surrender my words, leaving them for another time. Right now I take him in: disheveled copper-blond hair that usually has order, his strong angular jaw with a soft stubble shadow below prominent cheek bones, and faded crimson lips that I can’t stop craving. Oliver is beautifully handsome.

He shakes his head, relinquishing a sad smile as he wipes the moisture away from my cheeks. “Vivian, I told you, no take backs.”

Oliver kisses me and the earth stops moving beneath my feet, as if our lips meeting trumps anything else the over seven billion other people in the world are doing at this exact moment. Time just … stops.

Somewhere between now and forever, he carries me up the stairs bumping our bodies from one wall to the next as I refuse to let go of his lips.

“This one,” I murmur into his kiss as we start to pass my room.

He kicks the door shut setting me on my feet. Brushing my fingertips over my bruised lips, I grin. Oliver raises a brow, staring at my bed.

“A twin bed?”

I nod, then he nods. “O–kay.” He pulls down the covers and tosses my pillow on the floor.

He has some real pillow issues.

“I’ve had a shitty day … until you.” He unbuttons my shirt. “With you…” he pushes my shirt off my shoulders and unfastens my bra “…everything’s better.”

My body trembles and I hate that my nerves are so obvious. Oliver kisses me. It’s the only part of our bodies that touch. Our tongues tease and our lips caress. My eyes fight to stay open as he trails his lips and tongue along my neck and down my chest, stopping between my breasts, lingering right over my heart. Each blink is heavier than the one before, but I don’t want to miss one second of this. Every look we share is filled with a million wordless emotions.

He pulls down my skirt and looks up at me with a tiny grin as if he just remembered I’m not wearing any panties. I shrug and smile.

Standing, he backs me to the bed until I sit. Lying back, I pull my feet up on the bed and part my shaky knees while he shrugs off his shirt.

Stick, pinch, burn, stick, pinch, burn.

My chest rises and falls in rapid succession.

Stick, pinch, burn, stick, pinch, burn.

Oliver unfastens his jeans and pushes them down leaving on his boxer briefs. He’s turned on. Oh. My. God! He’s turned on by me. I look at him and he grins. He’s watching me stare at his tented briefs.

Sucking in a deep breath, I swallow hard and squeeze my eyes tight while my hands grip the sheets.

Stick, pinch, burn, stick, pinch, burn.

“Don’t worry about me, I can take it. You don’t need to hold back, just … do it!” I clench my teeth together and fight to keep my legs spread for him.

I wait.

And wait.

Nothing.

Peeking one eye open, I see Oliver standing before me with his briefs still on. His brows knit together and he smiles, releasing a soft chuckle. He kneels on the bed between my legs and grabs my right foot. Bringing it to his mouth, he kisses the pad of my big toe and then my arch, keeping his eyes on mine.