Pitbabe S2, Chapter 11 pg6

 Pitbabe S2, Chapter 11 pg6

   All day, he kept saying it’s fine, that the scratches on my face were minor, that he wasn’t shocked, that I get hurt so often he’s used to it. Even on the phone, his voice sounded calm: “Not hurting too much, right? I’m on my way.” Hearing him like that made me feel so safe. I even admired him in my head, thinking, Wow, he’s so mature, more than me. He made me believe he wasn’t panicking, wasn’t worried, wasn’t sad or angry—just mildly concerned, and once he saw I wasn’t badly hurt, he relaxed.

   All day.

   But seeing him like this now, I don’t even want to think about how much he’s been holding back.

   Before he got to the hospital, Charlie must’ve been scared out of his mind.

   I wanted to walk over, hug him, and tell him I’m okay. I wanted to thank him, let him know that his calmness and acting like it wasn’t a big deal made me forget the pain in my body entirely. I wanted to tell Charlie he’s my greatest support, that he’s capable and more mature than me, and how lucky I am to have him in my life.

   But if Charlie doesn’t want me to know, I’ll pretend I don’t.

   I held my breath and walked away from there, heading straight to the bedroom without even glancing back. Because if I saw Charlie crying one more time, I’d definitely change my mind and run back to him. So the best thing to do was to not listen, not look, not acknowledge. I walked into the bedroom, climbed back into bed, and pretended I’d never left.

   About five minutes after I returned, Charlie followed. I heard the door close, but I kept pretending to sleep, lying still with my eyes shut.

   “Why are you faking sleep?” Charlie chuckled softly. I felt the mattress dip, signaling he’d climbed onto the bed. “Think you’re slick?”

   “What’s not slick about it?” I opened my eyes, trying to act like nothing had happened, just like Charlie, who was still putting on a seamless performance. He lay down beside me, a faint smile on his face, his demeanor as relaxed as it had been all day. He probably thought the dim bedroom light would hide the fact that his eyes were red and swollen from crying.

   “If I haven’t come up yet, how could you be asleep?”

   “Maybe I’ve learned to sleep on my own. Who knows?”

   “Really?” Charlie teased, raising a hand to play with my hair like he does every night before bed. “Should we sleep separately tonight then?”

   “Are you nuts?”

   “Just so we can find out if you can actually sleep alone.”

   “No way. Never gonna happen.”

   “You’re lying.”

   “Yeah, I’m a liar.”

   Charlie didn’t defend me. He laughed, clearly amused, then reached over to turn off the bedside lamp. The room went pitch black, a signal it was time to sleep. Charlie shifted to find a comfortable position, pulling the blanket over me before covering himself. The darkness and silence worked together to lull us both into sleep, like every night.

   “Good night,” Charlie said, planting a soft kiss on my lips. “Sleep a lot, okay? So you can recover quickly.”

   “Yeah, good night.”

   That’s all I said before everything fell silent. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. I tried to do the same, but right now, even the sound of his breathing made me unbearably sad. Charlie was right here, yet I felt both a longing for him and a sense of guilt that I couldn’t do anything for him.

   “Papa,” I spoke into the darkness.

   “Mmm…” Charlie responded with a hum, eyes still closed. “What’s up?”

   Even now, he was acting like everything was fine.

   “Thanks.”

   Charlie didn’t reply right away. He tightened his embrace, let out a soft laugh, and then spoke.

   “What’s this about?”

   “Thank you… for sleeping beside me every night.” I hug Charlie tightly, burying my face in his chest, breathing in the familiar scent and listening to the heartbeat I hear every night, its rhythm etched in my memory. “Thank you for cooking for me, for cutting my nails, for dressing my wounds.”

   “Huh… what’s all this?”

   “Thank you for telling me to quit smoking, for remembering everything I forget, for apologizing even when you’re not wrong.”

   “Babe…”

   “I; Babe loves Charlie so, so much, you know that, right?”

   At first, Charlie seemed like he wanted to say something, but now he chooses to stay quiet. I think he’s probably pretty confused by me suddenly bringing this up. Maybe it made him realize I snuck downstairs earlier and saw him crying, or maybe he already knew but pretended not to. I’ve never been able to read him anyway, because Charlie’s a naughty kid. He’s too good at lying.

   “It’s the first time Babe has referred to himself as Babe,” Charlie says calmly, his hand slowly stroking my head. Even without seeing his face, I can sense that Charlie seems more worn out than before, like he’s let down one layer of his defenses, shed one of his colorful masks. That’s why I feel like I’ve gotten just a little closer to him. “Why don’t you call yourself that more often? It’s kinda cute.”

   “If I do it too much, I won’t have any tricks left to charm you.”

   “Is this you charming me?”

   “If you don’t feel it, that’s fine.”

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