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It’s cold when Julia wakes. She shivers as she turns around, wondering how this is possible when she has David lying next to her. But upon extending her hand, seeking out his warmth, she finds his side of the bed empty.
For a moment - in her drowsy state, Julia can’t understand as to why she is sleeping alone in her king-sized bed when she distinctly remembers falling asleep next to him. They had even showered together after their little tryst, having woken up a few hours afterwards, then eventually slipped back underneath the covers, talked about everything and nothing, and she fell asleep again whilst playing with his hair, running her fingers through his curls. He had smiled at her, his eyes glistening in the dark. If she didn’t know it any better then, she could have sworn their entanglement had become even more complicated that night, much more complicated. She decided to ignore that possible realisation and fell asleep again, being done in after the excitement of the day.
But now that she is awake, shivering and irritated, there doesn’t seem to be much left of it. Nothing at all. She slips from underneath her blanket and starts traipsing across the cold floor, wondering just where she might find him. There isn’t even a sign of light anywhere. As she slowly creeps towards the adjoining door that hasn’t been locked even once ever since she stood in front of him unsure, full of doubt and desire, all those nights ago, she imagines being able to make out a faint snoring sound.
All the anger that bubbles up inside of her, all the irritation of why he has left the safety of her bed, the gritting of teeth fades away the second she rounds the corner and sees him lying there. He is at peace, seemingly. His bedsheets are a rumpled mess, from his tossing and turning, while his blanket is thrown over him haphazardly, not covering even half of his body. How he is not cold, since he is not wearing much more than she does, is beyond her.
He looks so helpless, part of her just wants to let him be. The predominant part, however, wants to tease him, wake him up, retaliate for confusing her. So, she tiptoes to him and leans over his sleeping form. He twitches in his sleep and for a moment Julia wonders again if she should really wake him or just let him be.
The mere idea of going back to her own bed, alone and cold gives her an odd sense of loneliness. However, she lived that life for years and didn’t mind. Crazy, how times changed in just a few weeks. How one man turned her life upside down. Completely. So, she straddles him carefully so as not to rouse him before she wants him to wake up. With her knees on either side of his hip, she carefully lowers herself onto him, while leaning forward, so that her soft tousled curls almost brush his cheeks.
“Are you asleep,” she whispers, hoping it won’t startle him.
His reaction, however, is anything but what she expected. His eyes fly open and instead of the crystal blue eyes that usually exuded warmth and a particular boyish glint, she sees wide eyes staring at her in darkness, terror, fear, alienation and anger. She feels his heartbeat wildly in his chest, while his face has lost every shred of colour. His body is rigid, unmoving.
Julia’s head shoots back up, her body becomes a replica of his. Frozen to the spot as he gasps, his demons of the night slowly being locked back in the box where they came from. He catches his breath like a fish on dry land while Julia looks at him shocked. She doesn’t run away, nor does she get the urge to. No. She still feels oddly safe with him, despite her erratic heartbeat. Even after this. She trusts him. The only one she trusts, in fact. In her head, he would never harm her. Still, she had not expected this kind of a reaction and is not quite sure how to react. At least at first.
Just like in every unexpected moment, she finds a way to deal with it. Cool, rational thinking is key. Usually at least. Her heart rate goes down ever so slightly. She has to get off him. Not too far away from him, just not on top of him. So, she scrambles on the empty side of his bed and looks at him intently.
“David?” she eventually asks gingerly, afraid he might give her that look again. He finally seems to come to, slowly turns his head to look at her, only now realizing it was her who startled him.
“I am so sorry…,” the words stumble out in a very thick Scottish accent, laden with emotions, while he pushes himself into a sitting position. “Are you alright?”
“I’m alright”, she gasps, feeling as if her chest is constrained by an invisible force as she runs a hand through her hair nervously.
“Do you want me to leave?”
This question is abrupt. Even for Julia. Muttered with so much broken melancholy and sadness, making him sound almost like a vulnerable little child. Julia can’t help but just stare at him for a long moment.
Apparently having misunderstood the meaning of her silence, he slowly gets up, looking even more broken, accepting his fate of forever being the vulnerable man, scarred and ruined by the war. Everything he touches eventually turns to dust. Just when he thought Julia might have helped him overcome this curse.
Everything is in slow-motion, but Julia can hold him back, grabs his hand and gives it a slight squeeze. David freezes at the motion, turns around and gives her the most curious look. If Julia wasn’t entirely wrong, she could swear he is caught red-handed. She can’t possibly understand why. Once again, she decides to ignore this deep desire to just keep him close and safe.
“Stay… please.”
It’s short, decisive and doesn’t leave too much room for argument. Merely the emotions and the vulnerability in her voice are an indicator that this is Julia sitting in David’s bed and not his Principal or the Home Secretary.
His eyes land on his hand, which she has gripped and is squeezing tightly, like a physical affirmation that everything is alright. Still, guarded and doubtful he looks up in her eyes. But he meets the same affirmation and a soft voice.
“David?” she begins hesitantly and waits for him to turn around completely, waits until his eyes are on hers. “David, I know you didn’t mean to frighten me.”
His eyes are back on their hands. He looks as if he wants to hide, wants to hide his shame, his vulnerability and fear. It’s like he wants to retreat in his shell. Julia can’t let that happen. So she squeezes his hand again, a little more firmly so that he glances at her once more. She is not finished yet.
“David, you need to talk to me. What is it?”
For a long moment, they look at each other until he sighs and averts his eyes again. That moment Julia knows, he won’t talk. All she can hope for is that he won’t retreat entirely. But he doesn’t. He wordlessly climbs back underneath the sheets, still rigid, awkward and uncomfortable. So, they stay in his bed. Julia gently puts her head on his chest and holds him tight, not letting go of him, unable and unwilling to let go. All this time he made her feel safe, made her feel like a normal human being who did have emotions and a heart. She needed him to know that he was just as safe with her.
She sighs, partly content to have his warmth back, partly to ease the tension away from them. His heart is still hammering in his chest, but it begins to get back to a more normal rate, the longer she lays there. Time is relative. How long they stay there, not talking, just enjoying each other's company, feeling how the awkwardness slowly fades away, she can’t say.
Then she hears him sigh and he starts talking, in a scratchy voice and barely above a whisper. “It’s always the same dream… over and over again… how I can’t…. can’t save them,” he begins but nearly chokes on his own words. Julia almost doesn’t dare to breathe, doesn’t dare look him in the eyes in fear of him feeling observed and closing up again. So, she continues drawing random, lazy patterns on his chest. “Every night, I can smell burning flesh, see the blood, the marred and burned faces, hear the screams piercing in my ears…,” at this Julia can’t try and remain invisible anymore. She kisses him tenderly on his chest and looks up into his face at last. It’s contorted with pain. If there was something she could do, anything, she would do it, would take it all away. But the only thing she can do is to listen to him, help him release part of the hurt and the agony, and that’s what she does, with her gaze fixed upon him.
“... and always, always the constant fighting, strange men attacking us when I tried to get help… when I tried to save my men… and the pain, the constant pain…” It’s over, the torrent of words, as a tear is slipping down his cheek, and so is Julia’s ability to keep quiet. “Oh, David, I am sorry.”
At first, David doesn’t say a thing, lets her words hang in the air. Julia is not immediately aware of the meaning her words have on David. It is as if he is turning his thoughts over and over in his head, choosing his next words. “There is no reason for you to be sorry, it’s not your fault.”
There is nothing but Julia caressing David’s chest, trying to soothe him and his mind. Then she looks up at him again, searches for his eyes to look at her. She needs his focus on the next thing she is about to say. “Have you talked to anyone about it?”
David averts his gaze quickly, gives a quick shake of his head and mumbles “No.” There is a pregnant pause. Julia doesn’t know what to expect but feels there is more to this answer. “You are the first one, I actually tell this….”
Now Julia is the one to avert her gaze. Every emotion people usually deem her incapable of feeling, threatens to overcome her. She swallows, fights back a tear and then buries her head even further in his chest, only to give him yet another kiss, and squeezes him with her entire body. “You need to get help,” she mumbles, thick with emotion. David understands the message she tries to bring across and plants a kiss on top of her head and starts raking his fingers through her hair.
They stay like this for a long time and enjoy each other’s company, now that the awkwardness, the invisible wall and the pain between them have evaporated. Eventually, David stops caressing her and she can feel his focus on her. Julia meanwhile had listened to the drum of his heartbeat, to her the most relaxing of all sounds. But now she looks up, meets his eyes.
There is gratitude in them, the pain is still there, but not prevalent, he needs to work on this. She knows this as much as he does. But now is not the time. Instead, she sees something else in his eyes and she is not sure if it should overwhelm or scare her. Was it love? No. She quickly banishes the thought and focuses on his warmth, on him being here together with her. And then they kiss. It is hard to tell who initiates it, whether he leans down to her first or she up to him, but it doesn’t really matter. Their kiss tells them everything words are not able to express. No matter what happens, they will stick through this together. It is a choice Julia made a long time ago.