Dreams of 18(88)



“Are you serious? Are you fucking serious right now? You attacked me and you want me to go away?”

My grip on Graham’s wrists increases and I look at him fearfully. It was a bad thing that Graham did for me. Bad and potentially problem-inducing and I can’t bear the thought that because of me he could be in trouble.

And not only that, Graham is touching me in front of him. It could be dangerous, right? He could even get fired because Richard knows about the scandal. Richard knows what happened back in Connecticut and I’m pretty sure he might’ve put two and two together by now. He could take away my Graham’s job. He could, because Graham attacked him and there’s this girl here, from Graham’s past, because of whom he left his old job.

But Graham shakes his head once, at me. As if he could read my anxious thoughts. He even jerks me closer to him, making me go flush against his hard and heated body.

Like some kind of a claiming, in front of another man. In front of the world. Like he doesn’t care if there could be problems.

And it gets my heart racing.

Racing, racing, racing.

“Stop,” he murmurs to me. To Richard, he growls, “Richard, go away, all right? We’ll talk later.”

My heart is racing so much that I take a step even closer. I go up on his boots and I smell him. I tuck my nose in the triangle of his throat and hide my face, dragging his scent into my lungs. And he completes his claiming of me by wrapping his arms around my trembling body.

Oh God.

He’s picking me over everything.

Me.

“Jesus Christ,” Richard snaps, moving around now; I can hear the muck crushing under his boots. “What the fuck are you doing, man? What’s going on? She’s the girl from Connecticut, isn’t she? Is she even… fuck. Is she even legal? Do you know how much trouble you could get in, shacking up with a teenage girl like this?”

My heart jumps up to my throat and I fist his shirt. I even think of moving away from Graham’s body and screaming at Richard. Screaming that I am, in fact, legal. I’m eighteen. Graham isn’t doing anything against the law.

But he doesn’t let me move.

He plasters me to his body, tightens his hold. He splays his palms over my back and moves them in circles, as if soothing me.

I feel him turning his head to look at Richard. “She’s none of your concern, all right? Just leave. I’m asking you to leave. She’s scared, okay? Just leave before I do something to you for making her that way.”

The vibrations of his possessive words reach through his chest into mine and almost touch my fearful heart, soothing my heartbeats.

There’s silence after that.

I’m not sure what Richard is thinking or what’s going to happen but I have my eyes closed and I’m hiding away in Graham’s arms.

But for the first time in almost a year, I don’t wanna hide.

I don’t wanna close my eyes and hide my face or wear a cap or sunglasses. In fact, this is the first time I’ve ever felt that it’s okay if the world sees me.

It’s okay if the world sees me or judges me or finds me lacking because who the fuck cares what they think?

Right?

Who. The fuck. Cares?

Who cares if they think I’m not pretty or not special or not worthy of love or whatever?

I think that I’m pretty. I think that I’m special. I think that I’m worthy.

Because of him. He’s been telling me this and in this moment, I completely believe him. So much so that even my anxiety can’t sway me.

This man who has his arms around me and who’s choosing to put everything at risk for me.

“This isn’t over,” Richard says.

Richard’s threatening words fill me with so much strength that even Graham’s arms can’t hold me back. Nothing can hold me or this bright burst of courage and I break our hug. I lean over to look at the angry figure that is Richard.

He’s in the process of walking over to the driveway and I stop him. “He’s not doing anything wrong. I’m eighteen. I want to be here. I want to be with him. And it’s not his fault. Whatever he did. P-people scare me. He –”

Graham fists my hair then. He swallows up whatever I was going to say and forces me to look back at him. “You’re not explaining yourself to anyone. You’re never explaining, understand? You don’t have to.”

I’m panting even though I haven’t said much. It’s not from what I’ve said though. My breathlessness is from what I was going to say.

Only now that I’m staring back at Graham do I realize that I was going to say: he doesn’t know.

That’s what I was going to say. That Graham doesn’t know what I have. He doesn’t know that I’ve got an illness.

I was going to confess and he stopped me from it.

I should be relieved, I know. Strangely, I’m not. I’m restless and I don’t understand.

He not only stopped me but right now, he’s cupping my cheek. His palm cradles it and his fingers reach up to my hair. Again, he addresses Richard, without looking at him. “Richard. Leave. Now.”

I hear Richard scoff but after that I tune him out. I don’t care if he leaves.

I don’t care if he stays to watch.

To watch me kiss Graham. To watch me claim my man, like my man claimed me.

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