| 22 |

~ Banks Woods ~

I'm at my apartment earlier than usual. I practically made Caleb run while hurrying back home because of how nervous I've been since Lance left this afternoon. While Caleb had his dinner, I made sure the place is clean and that the dumbass picked up his underwear.

I had to promise him an extra cheese pizza three weeks in a row to persuade him to go to bed early and not come out no matter what he heard.

"Is it finally my time to become an uncle?" He scrunches his nose.

"Shut up, dumbass." I swat his head.

"Are you really going to do it while I'm sleeping right in there?"

"Nothing's happening!" I swat him harder.

"Ouch. Why are you hell-bent on putting me to sleep so early then? I didn't even watch TV."

"Just this one night, you can't agree to sleep early?"

He stares at me in contemplation, before muttering, "Whatever." He walks inside his room. "Make sure to not make any sound. I don't want to have nightmares."

Before I can throw something at him, he shuts the door.

I'm still worried that he might choose to ignore my words and walk outside so I find a solution to that. I lock him in.

I'll unlock the door after Lance leaves.

I'm not sure what's going to happen tonight. Lance looked like a completely different person when he told me he was going to be visiting tonight. Are we just going to continue our makeout, or are we going to go further?

Do I want to go any further? My core pulses as an answer.

I run my fingers through my hair, going over a billion things in my head. What if he just wants to hang out and watch TV and I'm just freaking out over here for nothing? What if he wants to have sex and I'm unprepared? Should I shower again? Does my hair look alright? I think I need to change my T-shirt. I'm pretty sure I've worn this a billion times in front of him. God, does my breath stink? I haven't had anything for dinner with how tense and nervous I've been.

The doorbell rings. I jump in my place.

Suddenly, my heart beats too loud, and my chest starts closing in.

He's here.

God, he's here.

I'm not prepared to meet him.

I'm part-excited and part-scared to know what might happen once I open the door and meet his eyes.

Rubbing my palms over my leggings, I hold my breath, before turning the lock and sliding the door open.

There he stands, almost touching the top of the doorframe with his huge height and those massive muscles. His hair is neat and styled and his suit molds against his body, making him look like a model. His eyes clash with mine with that heavy gaze, which nearly robs me of my breath. He takes me in, from head to toe. Something flashes in his eyes that's indecipherable to me.

I shift my weight from one foot to another before opening the door wider, to let him in.

He walks inside and while I'm turning the lock, I feel his hand on my forehead. I nearly jump at the contact.

"You don't have a fever anymore." Comes his deep voice.

I calm my shaky nerves, before nodding and turning around to face him. "Yeah. I'm all better now."

A smile spreads across his lips as he takes me in again. My chest loosens and my shoulders dip. Without even knowing, my nervousness melts off my body and puddles at my feet as if it was never there. Just a smile from this man flipped my feelings inside out.

"Did you have dinner?" He asks.

The mention of food makes my stomach growl in that instant and we both pause.

"Uh, not yet." An embarrassed hue covers my cheeks.

He narrows his eyes at me. "You need to take care of yourself."

Before I can reply, he takes my hand, leading me to the couch. Making me sit, he heads over to the fridge to take out some food that Castle made.

I jump, following after him. "You don't have to do that. I can do it—"

He places a hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me away. "Sit."

"But—"

He gives me a stern look.

My words die in my throat, mostly because of how extremely hot he looks giving me that look. I contemplate being a little more stubborn to see what more he can give me than the stern look, before shaking myself out of it.

Why the fuck am I acting like a horny teenager?

Seating back on the couch, I watch as Lance heats up two plates of food before bringing them over and handing one to me. He sits beside me, and then nudges me to start eating.

His face looks normal and calm. He isn't staring at me too much like he does and looks engrossed with his food. So are we not having sex tonight?

The thought brings a twinge of disappointment. Was I really getting all panicked and nervous for nothing?

"Banks?" Lance looks up at me.

"Yeah?"

He swallows the food in his mouth, giving me a serious look. "I know you said it last time that you didn't want to talk about it, but it's been going on in my head for the past three weeks."

I furrow my eyebrows. "About what?"

He tilts his head. "About those people, and why the fuck did that asshole think that it was okay to touch you?"

I freeze.

I completely forgot about them since the fever and with everything I've been feeling today. They didn't cross my mind at all.

My defences start building up, piling on top of each other like always to shield my already fragile heart. Unpleasant memories attack my mind, reminding me of the pathetic version of myself.

My hand, that's gripping the fork starts shaking so I put the utensil down and place my hand beside me on the couch.

"They were my aunt and my ex."

His eyebrows pull together, but something else about his look tells me that he already knew that. "Ex?"

I nod, bitterness filling my tongue. "He was my high school boyfriend, then he cheated on me with my best friend. Even before that, he was really abusive and manipulative."

"Why was he here?" He moves closer to me, peering at my face. I can't meet his eyes though. I stare at my food.

"God knows. Probably to remind me that I can't escape him. I left him so he beat me up before disappearing himself. I have no idea why he decided to show up now."

Silence falls in the room and I look up to see why it's so quiet. My eyes widen in surprise when I see Lance's jaw clenched so tight that he might pull a muscle. His eyes are dark and he looks angry.

"He hit you?"

I shrug. "It could've gone a lot worse. The only problem for me was that Caleb was there and he saw everything—"

"What the fuck?" Lance's outburst startles me, making me jump slightly. "You got beaten up by some asshole and all you can think about is that Caleb saw it?"

Confusion envelopes me. I'm not sure why he's mad.

At the look I'm giving him, he shakes his head and continues. "Seriously, Banks. I know you care deeply about Caleb but do you ever think about yourself too?"

"I..."

"I know I have no idea what all you went through and how deeply you care about Caleb, but do you ever just take a moment to think about yourself?"

My mouth falls slack. I do think about myself. But they're negative thoughts that keep reminding me that I deserve nothing.

Lance waits for an answer but when I'm unable to give him one, he releases a deep sigh from his mouth.

"I–I do. I do take care of myself." I stammer out, just to avoid that disappointed look on his face.

He lifts an eyebrow. "What did you have for breakfast?"

"The stuff that Castle made."

"Lunch?"

I open my mouth to reply but then pause when I realize I didn't have anything.

Lance glares at me and I don't like it so I look at my lap.

"And you weren't going to have dinner too." He states, then rubs his forehead. "It's more important to take care of yourself first before thinking about others. How are you going to survive if you ignore your needs?"

I fist my hands on either side of me, hating how his words feel. It's not like I choose to ignore my needs. I just forget in the midst of everything. And by the time I realize, I'm too exhausted so I just fall asleep and let it be.

"I just forget. It's only sometimes though. I'm taking care of myself more than before."

He gives me a look of disbelief.

"Did your ex come back again?"

I shake my head.

"What's his name?"

I raise my head and furrow my eyebrows at him. "Why?"

"I can't ask his name?" He raises an eyebrow.

"It's Ben."

"Ben." He repeats, before nodding to himself. "Alright."

I stare at him in confusion, not being able to decipher his thoughts.

"How much did he hurt you?"

My shoulders hunch up and a sour taste fills my mouth. I pick my fork back up and mumble. "We don't have to talk about that right now."

Before I can lift my food to my mouth, Lance's hand closes around my hand. I look at him to see him giving me a stern look.

"I want to know."

"And I don't want to talk about it."

"So you're going to just suppress it all in?"

"I'm not suppressing anything."

"Sure, you aren't. That's why you wanted to break up with me at the first hint of a problem."

I furrow my eyebrows, not sure why he's being so difficult all of a sudden. "That breakup had to do with me being responsible for Caleb."

"Every single thing is for Caleb. Every time something comes up, your first thought is Caleb." There's a hint of anger in his voice, which confuses me further and I hate it. Absolutely hate it.

"Because I'm the only one he has and he's my responsibility," I state.

"That doesn't mean you should ignore yourself. You have responsibilities towards your own needs too."

"My needs come later in this situation. Maybe if my parents acted like fucking parents instead of abandoning us, then would things have been different." Resentment swells my chest. I'm not sure why I brought up my parents. They were the last thing on my mind. Then why did they appear in this conversation without my comprehension?

"You know, you barely tell me anything about yourself." Lance runs a hand over his clenched jaw. "I either have to ask you for it or have you drunk or delirious in a fever to make you tell me things."

I frown. "Why does it matter? It was in the past and I want to keep it in the past."

"Yet it's still affecting you. It's still eating you up from the inside and I can see it very clearly from your eyes. I want to help you but I don't even know with what because I don't know what you're going through."

Anger builds in my chest and a deep sense of defensiveness. "You don't have to help me with anything."

"There you go." He rolls his eyes. "You're putting up your defences around me."

"Well, maybe you should stop digging into something that you don't need to concern yourself with."

Suddenly losing my appetite, I stand from the couch and carry my plate to the kitchen to put it with the leftovers. When I place it on the counter to get the box, a hand grabs my arm, flipping me around.

Surprise filters through me as Lance stands against me with his brooding height and a glare on his face. His form traps me against the counter while his arms plant on either side of me to prevent me from escaping.

"I'm the last person you need to build your defences up against, and yet you put me in that category in your head. Why, Banks?"

"I don't want to talk about this." I try moving from underneath him, but he pins me in place with his hips, his arms narrowing the cage he put me in.

"We're fucking talking about this." He grits out. "Just a few days back you were crying in my arms telling me you hated yourself. Is it because of him? Your ex? Did he put shit in your head too?"

Angry tears well up in my eyes at the reminder of my weakest points. I hate being weak. Even more, I hate that others have to witness it. Why did I cry out to Lance like that?

"I don't want to talk about it." My voice comes out choked despite my best efforts to keep calm.

There's silence for a while before Lance gently grabs my chin and lifts my head to make me meet his eyes. They're much gentler now. Softer. Concerned.

"I'm not forcing you to spill everything, Banks. I just need something. To understand you better and to know what goes on in that head of yours."

"It's a messed up place," I whisper. Pressure builds behind my eyelids, but I try to hold myself together. "There's nothing worth knowing. I'm a messed up person with scars that'll continue to remind me of the pain. I can't help it. I try so hard but it never goes away. There's nothing worth knowing about my past because it's ugly and gloomy and a shit ton messier."

"I still want an in. I want to know what goes on in that hot-headed head of yours. I want to know how far you've come and what shaped you into the person you are today. You're not messy, Banks. You're just hurt and alone and put too much burden on your shoulders. You're the strongest person I know. Maybe you're too strong and independent, that's why you cut yourself off from the world and build up walls." He leans closer to my face, his eyes peering into mine. "You don't have to do that with me. You can let go. I'll catch you then hold you for as long as you want. You can build your walls up against everyone but you don't have to with me. I want to be your safe space. I want to be there when you're down and hurting. I know you hate taking help from anyone but I still want to." 

A weight lifts off my chest. I don't why I thought Lance would give up and tell me to forget about it and just leave. He's still standing here. His arms feel comforting instead of a cage now. His gaze feels like a blanket of calmness that slowly covers me, making me feel warm.

Tears well up faster than anything in my eyes, and I duck my head to hide it. My heart thumps painfully in my chest as my mind slowly spirals. My heart is longing to accept Lance's words and give everything a chance, but my brain doesn't want to let down its guard, too traumatized from the past. 

"Stop." Lance grabs my wrists to keep me in place against the counter when I try to escape. He looks agitated but sighs in defeat. "Just...stop running. I'm not your enemy, Banks. I'm not the person from your past. Why are you running from me?"

Because I'm scared.

I'm terrified to my very last bones.

I'm scared that my scars will inflict pain on this new thing forming between me and Lance and leave me completely done for good. I'm so insecure about everything that it's fucking miserable.

"It's all I've known." My voice cracks. I didn't even realize I was trying to push him away. It's a reflex I've built in the past.

"Then let me help you change that. I know you've had shitty people in the past. Let me help replace those memories and make you forget about them. I know I can't do much, but I'm still willing to try. I will try my fucking best. Even if I can't help you, I want to be there to support you. I want to remind you of how amazing you are and how much your hard work has paved off."

My shoulders dip and before I know it, my walls completely deteriorate from his words. Tears fall from my eyes, sliding over my face and down my chin. A sob tears through my throat, leaving my body weak and exposed.

Lance quickly leaves my wrists, and his arms come around me, holding me against him, as he mumbles in gentle words. "Hey. Hey. I did not mean to make you cry. I'm sorry. Maybe I should've backed down a little bit."

My hands clutch his suit jacket, stuffing my face in between his chest as if I can hide here forever. How does he always manage to say the words that completely take me off guard? He understands me completely even though he claims that he doesn't. He makes me feel seen and appreciated when all I've been thinking about is how useless I am. He always makes me feel like I'm someone really special no matter what the circumstance is.

I don't know why I'm so terrified of letting him into my heart when he's already engraved deeply into it, making his own space within. My fears and apprehension feel fucking foolish now, the more I let them into my life.

He's right. He's not someone from my past. Then why am I treating him like he's one of them? Why am I letting my irrational fear of abandonment affect what my future could be? It's like he opened my eyes right now that have been sealed shut by the people who were horrible to me.

While I've been scared about him pushing me away and abandoning me, I've been doing exactly that to him.

The new sense of relief I feel makes me cry harder. It's like a huge weight has been lifted off my entire body, letting me breathe properly as if I'm breathing in air for the first time.

"I'm sorry, Banks. Shit. I'm really sorry. I did not mean to make you cry." He runs his fingers through my hair, mumbling soothing words in my ear. "You know what? Fine. You can be as closed off as you like. You can even hide your face for life and I'll still accept that. Anything to make you happy. Now please stop crying. If you want, we can even stop talking for months and meet twice a year if that makes you feel alright."

"Shut up, idiot." I slap his chest, the last bit of my tears falling over my lids.

"Maybe we could do the long-distance thing while not actually being in a long-distance relationship. I'll meet you every six months, we could FaceTime once in a while and text every Sunday—"

"Shut up."

He clamps his mouth close.

I finally look up at his face and feel a swell in my chest at the deep concern in his blue eyes. His eyes roam over my face, and he raises his hands to gently wipe the remaining of my tears with his thumbs.

"You're a big idiot," I say, swallowing back the huge ball that had formed in my throat.

He blinks. "What did I do now?"

I shake my head before letting my head fall back onto his chest, breathing out a huge sigh of contentment. It feels so elevating now after the realization.

We remain like that for a long time. With me leaning against him, and him simply holding me with his arms around my body. I don't want to leave this space. Ever. In fact, I don't want to leave him in the long run too.

Maybe he might leave me in future. Maybe I'll get my heartbroken again. But that's not something I need to worry about right now. In fact, I don't have to worry about that at all.

Again and again, Lance has proven to me that I can have confidence in him. Even when I didn't have that security within myself, he never hesitated to display it for the both of us at all times.

Finally, when I feel like I'm put together and not about to burst out crying again, I slowly lift my head, meeting his eyes.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, then gulp the new rise of emotions swelling in my throat. "I didn't realize I was pushing you away."

"I'm sorry for making you cry—"

"You didn't make me cry, idiot."

"You're calling me that a lot tonight." He mutters.

"Because you are one."

"Ouch. I just let you ruin my suit with your tears and snot and this is how you repay me."

"You're the one having dinner at my apartment so I guess we're equal."

A smile lifts his face and he gives a playful shrug. "Touche."

His face looks a lot calmer and at ease now, just like how my chest feels. There's a hint of regret though. For assuming things on his side, and letting it further mess up my head.

I bite my bottom lip, shifting my weight from one foot to another. "I'm sorry...I was too caught up in my head to realize what I was doing."

The smile that appears on his face is so soft and tender that it melts my heart. His fingers play with my hair and his other arm doesn't leave my waist.

"I don't want you to apologize, Banks. I only want to feel closer to you because it drives me insane when I feel like you're shutting off from me."

"It won't happen again." I quickly say. I hope so. I don't want to shut off from him.

"Good." He leans closer and my breath catches when his lips brush against mine. "Because I've waited too long to feel these lips." Then his hands slip to my hips, his voice going even lower as he utters the next words. "And hopefully, I'll get to feel even more."

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

My own characters are starting to grow on me <3 I often wonder about how it would feel like to meet someone who just knows you without you even having to open your mouth. The feeling of being seen and understood is something I've craved for the longest time.

Words: 3,700

Date of publishing: 27th June 2024