Kinsley: Beautiful Mess

A bonus post, for your reading pleasure :)
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As I walked up to the doctor, I heard, "...probably lucky her neighbor saw her and called 911.  8 Xanax and about half a liter of vodka, it's a wonder her respiratory system didn't just completely quit.  Anyway, she'll be fine, but we're going to hold her for a psych eval.  You guys can go back and see her now.  She's in room 1322."

My dad looked at me.  "Go ahead, honey."

I took a deep breath and took a step towards the door the doctor had motioned to.  I looked back at Damien.  "I'll wait here," he said.

I shook my head, suddenly petrified to go by myself.  "Come with me, please?"

My dad gave me a dirty look and said, "Kinsley, I don't really think that's appropriate--" but I cut him off by turning away and walking through the door, hoping that Damien would follow me.  He did, and I was relieved.

My mom was awake and she looked up when we walked in.  "Kinsley!" she said cheerfully.  "Oh, hello Damien.  I see I've finally figured out how to get a visit from my darling daughter.  How are you two?"

I stared at her.  Was she fucking kidding?  "Really great, Mom," I replied sarcastically.  "Damien had a great time fielding the phone call from Dad that you were here, and an even better time breaking the news to me.  It's been pretty fun sitting here in the hospital waiting to hear if you were okay, too."  Damien put his hand on my lower back, a silent request for me to calm down.

"Well I'm glad you aren't worried," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Should I be?" I asked.  "Were you trying to die?"

"Of course I wasn't!" she snapped.  "I just wanted to get some rest.  I got that, and the added bonus of seeing my beautiful daughter and her handsome boyfriend.  So all in all, I'd say it was worth it."  My mom grinned at Damien and winked.  My stomach churned and I gritted my teeth to keep from saying something I'd regret.  "You don't ever visit me anymore," she continued.  "We never do anything.  And I really wish you'd bring this good looking man around a little more.  Maybe if you weren't too busy for your mother, this wouldn't have happened."

"Don't you dare," I hissed.  "Don't you even fucking dare."

"Kinsley," Damien said quietly.

"No!  I'm not going to sit here and let her blame this on me too!"  I turned back to my mom and continued.  "This is just as much my fault as your divorce or your car accident!"  I wasn't aware of how loud I was getting until a nurse poked her head in the room and asked if everything was okay.  When Damien said yes, she firmly directed me to keep my voice down.

"I don't know how you can sit here and yell at me," my mom replied, pouting.  "I almost died, Kinsley."

I swallowed hard, then pulled away from Damien.  "I need to go," I said, directing my statement to the corner of the room.

"You just got here," my mom pointed out innocently.  "You didn't even sit."

"I just...need to go.  I need to fucking go."  Without looking back to see if Damien was following me, I strode out of the room.  I walked back through the door and through the waiting area without even looking at my dad or Christina.  I walked all the way to the elevator and then stopped, because I honestly didn't know if we needed to go up or down.  Down, I assumed, but I wasn't positive.  Damien confirmed my guess by hitting the down arrow.  He didn't say anything, and for once I was thankful for his unflappable calm.

We rode the elevator silently and then I trailed after him through the hallways and out to the car.  I yanked the passenger side door of my car open and slumped into the seat, curled against the door.   I pulled Damien's sweatshirt off, because now I was hot, and squished it into a ball, squeezing it tightly against my chest. Still silent, Damien navigated back to my house and when we got there, I went straight inside and up to my room.  I threw myself on my bed like a child, burying my face in my pillow.  I was so angry.  And sad, finally sad.  I felt like I needed to cry, but tears weren't coming.

I felt the mattress shift as Damien sat down on the edge of the bed.  He reached over and pushed my hair to one side and stroked the back of my neck.  When I didn't move away, he began to rub my back.  After almost a minute, I rolled over and wrapped my arms around his waist.  He kicked his shoes off and shifted so he was leaning back against the headboard, and pulled me against his chest.  I shut my eyes and tried to match my erratic breathing to his deep, even breaths.  "I'm sorry," I mumbled, once my breathing had slowed to a normal rate.

"Why?" he asked, sounding confused.

"I'm a fucking disaster.  I feel like a crazy person.  And you had to witness it all."

"Your family is a disaster," he corrected me.  "Not you.  I think you've turned out pretty damn good."  I waited for the "even though", but it didn't come.  I was so grateful that he didn't just consider me an inspirational success story.

"I would have made an even bigger scene if you hadn't been there," I admitted.  "I feel like an idiot already.  Thank you for being there with me."

"Thank you for letting me be there with you," he said softly.  I thought about that and realized that I hadn't even thought twice about having him there.  I wanted him there.  And he knew exactly what to do (or what not to do, as it were).  It had been really nice to have someone to support me in something like that, where I normally would have gone it alone.

I looked up at him and bit my lip.  I had the sudden overwhelming urge to stop thinking about my family and to stop feeling all the shitty emotions I was feeling.  I sat up and kissed him tentatively, not sure how he'd respond after the day we'd had.  But he kissed me back, wrapping his hands around my waist and shifting me into his lap.

I moved my lips from his and sucked lightly on the spot on the side of his neck that made him groan.  His fingers tightened, digging into my thighs and I moaned softly, pressing my hips into his.  My mouth continued on its path up his neck until I got to his ear.  "Fuck me, Damien," I breathed, nipping at his earlobe.  "Hard."

His fingers tightened again, this time on my hips.  When he had a good grip, he flipped me off him and moved, pinning me to the bed with his hips.  "Yessss," I sighed as his teeth raked carelessly across my collarbone.

His confidence with the rougher stuff was steadily increasing as he grew more sure he wasn't actually going to hurt me.  He still didn't like anything that left a mark (the red handprint he'd left on my ass once was too much for him, even though it had faded within an hour), but he was fairly comfortable with anything else.  I still couldn't get him to talk dirty to me, but I'd take what I could get.

He stood and grabbed my ankles, yanking me to the edge of the bed so he could pull my jeans off.  I sat up to take my shirt off, but he pushed me back down, pinning my wrists at my sides.  He kissed, licked, and nipped his way up my inner thigh before running his tongue lightly along the skin right next to the lacy boyshorts I was wearing.  I groaned and shifted my hips, trying to get his mouth where I wanted it.  He nipped sharply at my inner thigh before climbing back up on the bed and kissing me hard.  I moaned against his lips as he moved his hips--still covered by his jeans--against me, pressing himself against the thin material of my underwear.  He moved away again and tugged me into a sitting position, pulling my shirt over my head and unhooking my bra.  I reached for the button and zipper of his jeans but he caught my wrists in one hand and held them tightly while he tugged and twisted my nipples with the other.

He moved his hips back against my body and ground them against me while tugging on one nipple with his teeth and rolling the other between the fingers of his right hand, with my wrists still trapped in his left hand.  I wrapped my legs around his, holding him against me, and I think I surprised us both when I came, locking my legs tightly and shuddering against him.  He pressed his lips to mine, dropping my wrists in favor of winding his fingers into my hair to tilt my head up to his.  I took advantage of this and unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down, and wrapping both hands around him, slowly sliding them up and down.  He groaned into our kiss and his tongue sought mine more aggressively.  I pulled away and said again, "Fuck me."  This time I was pleading, and he yanked my underwear off as he pushed me further up onto the bed and forced my legs apart with his knees.

I whimpered in pleasure and dug my fingers into his shoulder blades as he finally pushed into me.  Honoring my request, he slammed into me hard and fast, again and again, until I quivered and shook beneath him, then came apart, crying out and clawing at his back as my hips moved against him with a mind of their own.  He silenced me by pressing his lips to mine, and then as my grip on his back relaxed, he started moving again, slowly this time.  I lifted my head to keep my lips attached to his as he shut his eyes and began to tense.  I moved my hands from his back, around his ribs, and up his stomach to his chest.  He growled, his face in my hair, and I slid my hands up just a little bit further, then lightly raked my nails down the back of his neck.  With a groan, he finally came, his arms shaking slightly as they supported his weight above me.

Damien lowered himself to his forearms and dropped his forehead down to mine.  We were both silent, breathing hard and sweating.  He kissed my cheek, then said, "Kinsley?  What's wrong?"  He rolled off of me and looked at me, brushing his fingertips across my cheek.  In the late-afternoon light, I could see the wetness glistening on his fingertips.  I swiped furiously at my cheeks, trying to erase the tears.  "Did I hurt you?" he asked, concerned.  I shook my head and sucked in a deep breath, trying to stop the sob welling up in my throat, but it was too late.

"No," I choked out, wanting to reassure him that he did the opposite of hurting me.  "I just...today..." I shook my head; I was crying too hard now.  "I'm sorry," I managed to gasp before I completely lost it.

"Oh, Kinsley," Damien said.  I pulled my knees to my chest and curled into the fetal position, pressing my forehead to my knees, sobbing.  "Kins, it's okay," he soothed me softly.  He wrapped himself around my curled up body, pulling me against him and rubbing my back.  "Breathe, baby," he said, pushing my hair out of my face.  Just like he knew I needed his silence before, he knew I needed him to keep talking now, and he quietly reassured me while I sobbed.  I cried until I didn't have the energy to cry anymore, and then I just stayed in my ball, sucking in ragged, shallow breaths.  As I quieted, so did Damien, and soon we were both silent again, aside from our breathing.

I wiggled away from him and reached for the blanket, but it was just out of range of my outstretched fingertips.  Damien sat up and grabbed it, and when he laid back down I scooted over and curled against his side, head on his chest.  He settled the blanket over both of us, smoothing it over my back and my hip.  I felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to make Damien understand my outburst in the hospital and my tears, and I began telling him stories about my family.  I'd told him generally about my mom and dad, but not many specific stories.  I'd never told him (or anyone, for that matter) about my brother.  As far as he knew, I was an only child.  He listened quietly, absently stroking my arm while I babbled away.  I talked for nearly 45 minutes before I stopped as abruptly as I started, exhausted from the events of the day.

"Wow," Damien said when I finished.  "I...don't know what to say.  Not that I questioned your actions earlier, but I certainly understand them better now."

"It's nice of you to lie and pretend like you weren't completely embarrassed by the way I acted at the hospital," I mumbled, turning my face towards his chest and shutting my eyes.

"It takes a lot more than that to embarrass me," he replied, kissing the top of my head.

"Shit!" I yelped, sitting up straight.  "Dinner!"  It was Sunday, which meant dinner with Damien's family.

"I already called my mom and told her we wouldn't be able to make it today.  She invited us to come tomorrow instead if we wanted to, but I told her I'd have to see how things went today."  Damien tugged gently on my arm, trying to get me to lay back down.

"But we have to go," I insisted, shaking my head.  "We agreed.  I told you I'd go to dinner on Sundays."  In my unstable state of mind, the idea of not following through on what I'd agreed to was seriously distressing, and I felt tears prick at the back of my eyes again.  "I just need to shower and we'll go.  Are we late?  What time is it?  We have to, I promised."

"Kinsley," he said gently.  "It's okay.  Things come up that make plans change, and today certainly qualifies.  My mom understands, and so do I.  I don't want to go, and I don't think you're in much a mindset to go."

I crumpled back down, simultaneously relieved and still distressed.  "I'm a mess," I agreed despondently.

"You're a beautiful mess," he replied.

I abandoned my plan of dinner with Damien's family, and allowed the exhaustion to take over.  Damien got up to go pick up some food, and I managed to fall asleep while he was gone.  He let me sleep, and I woke up around 8:30, hungry, groggy, and disoriented.

I stumbled downstairs after I had pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.  "Damien?" I asked, squinting in what seemed like the ridiculously bright light of my living room.

"Hi," he replied.  "I didn't want to wake you because I figured you were exhausted.  Do you want me to heat you up some food?"  I nodded, collapsing in a heap on the couch.  I shut my eyes and listened to Damien's footsteps go into the kitchen.  I heard a cabinet open and close, then a drawer.  Then the fridge.

I opened my eyes when he reappeared in front of me, offering me a plate, a napkin, and a fork.  "Wine, beer, or water?" he asked.

"Water, please," I croaked.  Somewhere in the back of my head, the prideful part of me was feeling guilty for letting Damien take care of me like this, but logically I knew I wasn't in any sort of place to take care of myself, so I was thankful for it.  He returned with a glass of water and I took it gratefully.  "Thank you," I said, smiling weakly at him.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked, looking at me with concern.  I shook my head, and he sat down and returned his attention to the TV, letting me eat in peace.

"Thank you," I said, as I finished.  "You didn't have to stay with me all day, I appreciate everything you did today."

"Stop thanking me," he said gently.  "I'm glad I could be here with you today."

Uncomfortable, I changed the subject, talking about random things.  We ended up quietly watching TV together for another hour or so, and then went to bed.  After my long nap, I struggled to fall asleep, and I tossed and turned until I finally drifted off around 3am.  I was grateful that Damien is a sound sleeper and slept through my wiggling around.

I had barely been asleep for an hour when Damien's phone rang, startling us both.  I sat straight up, confused by the sudden intrusion into my sleep.  Damien fumbled for the noisy fucking thing and answered groggily.  After listening for about 30 seconds, he said, "Okay, I'll be there," and hung up.

"Work?" I asked sleepily.

"Work," he confirmed.  He got up and walked to the bathroom to take a quick shower.  I dragged my sorry ass out of bed and downstairs to make him some coffee.  It was the least I could do.

When he came downstairs, he smiled.  "Thank you," he said, taking the travel mug I offered him.

I sleepily returned his smile.  "If you're done with work on time, I want to have dinner with your family tonight," I told him.  He looked surprised, then nodded and told me he'd let me know.  Now that I didn't have to spend all of my free time with his family, they were really growing on me.  I still wasn't ready to become a family-oriented person, but I was starting to enjoy being kind of a part of a relatively normal, loving, nurturing family.  Anything was better than my family, really.

Damien kissed me and left, and I trudged back up to bed.  I tried everything I could think of but couldn't fall back asleep.  I tossed and turned until 6 am, then called in sick to work.  Somewhere around 7, I finally fell back to sleep.