Chapter 8

I know Sophs loves me, she tells me all the time. I don’t get what this is and why she’s so upset about it. I don’t get why she feels the need to keep emphasizing she cares about me. I know this, she knows I love her too.... I honestly don’t understand, unless she somehow feels I don’t anymore, because I left her here and walked off mad?

“Okay.... You said that ....” I move towards her, smiling a little as I try to get my head around why she is being odd, trying to weigh up my theory and it suddenly registers with the way she is watching me painfully, intensely; as though seeking some sort of answer to what she said. The penny drops from a great height and almost takes me out with the impact of the blow as I stupendously connect the dots and stumble with the fallout.

“By love? ...... Sophs.... What do you mean?” I frown at her as a tightening knot, envelopes my guts and my anxiety hitches steadily, a little tremor of clarity pushing through at exactly what she is telling me. Fogginess giving way to a little niggling realization that brings up a huge wave of nervous nausea. I must visibly pale as it feels like all the blood drains from my face.

“I’m sorry, Arry, I didn’t mean to. It’s not like I meant for things to change... It just happened.” She looks even more devastated this time, eyes glazing with tears, breaking me apart. I can’t breathe as it forces its way into my head, exactly what she means. I pause, momentarily stunned and have no clue how to react at all. Still as stone while my brain throws itself into a frenzy of emotions and thoughts and I am rendered temporarily stunned as it sinks in and set’s my brain on fire.

Sophie is my best friend, the girl I love like a best friend. Like a sister.

“You don’t love me like that, Sophs, you don’t know what you’re saying. This is stupid, you’re confused.” It tumbles from my mouth as my mind tries to catch up, still in shock, fumbling and staring at those searching scared eyes she’s locked on me and I can barely breathe. My body turns rigid; I can see her staring at me, that beautiful little face so open and afraid, and yet all I can feel is a huge building wave of sheer panic and a need to back away from her at a hundred miles an hour. My feet seem to follow, and I halt myself from literally running away from her.

My hands have a mind of their own and grasping at fuck knows what, between us. I shove them down and try to stop my feet from turning again to get away from her. Needless to say, this is not a reaction I ever thought I would have to something I never thought I would hear from Sophs of all people.

We are not like this with one another.... we’re best friends. It’s not right, it’s weird on so many levels and I don’t look at her that way.

“Arry?” She reaches for me this time, stepping towards me, but the wave of blackness closing in on me makes me move away impulsively. Afraid that her touch might send me running and that would be the shittiest thing to do to her right now. Trying to control my breathing, lungs heavy, as her eyes bore into me, eating me away with that terrified look in her eye. I want to be who she needs, to hold her and tell her it’s all going to be okay, but I’m freaking out, and realizing that nothing is going to be fucking okay if she looks at me in that way.

That’s like kissing and sex...... Sophie and sex...No, no, no, NOPE!!!

“You’re like a kid sister to me.... You are a kid sister to me. We’re not like that. You … me... we have never been like that. This isn’t right, Sophs; this is wrong on so many levels, it’s practically incest.!” I blanch at her, head in chaos, thoughts tumbling around crazily. I can’t even begin to comprehend what being that way with her would be like. It’s wrong on so many levels. My body is in a state of cold panic and my blood is sending weird icy waves from my toes to my head as it tingles across my scalp and gives me the shudders. A full-on bodily reaction to how wrong this is.

I mean look at her... she’s so young, and vulnerable, and pure. I wouldn’t, couldn’t, daren’t, ever cross that line with her. She’s MY Sophie! The way she’s looking at me is ripping my insides out on top of all that. Wounded, hurt by my scathing rejection, and it’s killing me inside. I’m so fucking powerless to do anything but hold my shit together and not make this worse for her.

“You think I wanted this? You think I asked to start feeling differently about you? Or to even know that’s what this emptiness has been? Don’t you think I wish I could just push it all away, and be like I was before?” She raises her palms, her face overcome with regret and heartbreak, tears threatening to spill, and I feel that same stabbing pain in my gut. She’s hurting, and I’m doing nothing to alleviate it. I have no words; nothing formulates or comes out of my mouth as a million thoughts and feelings collide like a massive train wreck in my head. I think I might be sick; the room is tilting pretty badly, and maybe I should sit down. Definitely not getting enough oxygen and my own panting breath is drowning out her voice. “I didn’t know until yesterday that this is what is even wrong with me. This is all a shock to me too, and it’s not like I don’t know that this isn’t right. I know you don’t look or feel that way about me, I know you’re in love with Natasha and this fucks me and you up in every way. You don’t need to point this out to me … I already know, Arry!” She sobs with the rush of words and I impulsively reach for her, that part of me instinctively needing to always be her strength, cutting through my chaos, aching to be her shoulder to cry on, her arms to wrap around her, yet, I realize I can’t anymore.

I shouldn’t be touching her if she feels this way about me, right? It sends mixed signals.

I hesitate, my soul aching to hold her, yet my brain telling me not to touch her and give her the wrong idea about what I feel. I have no clue what to do.

I try to think about it objectively, sizing her up, wondering if I even could.... That we might be able to even cross any line like that. I know that I find her beautiful, stunning even, but it’s Sophie... it’s my little Mimmo. I have no clue if I could ever give her more than what we have. I refused to allow my head to ever go there once I got to know her, although once upon a time, there was a moment. A moment I wanted her, right back in the beginning, before I knew how young she was, or how scarred. And then I became someone she needed, a best friend, and I vowed to never let my thoughts stray that way again. And I haven’t, until now.

Natasha runs through my head, and a huge overwhelming pit of ache pins my chest as I visualize her in my head, reminding me that my heart is already invested elsewhere, and I should not even contemplate any what if’s. It’s so abhorrent to even be mentally unfaithful that I shove it all aside.

“I don’t know what to say. What you want me to do? I don’t even know how to feel right now, Sophs. We’re Batman and Robin, not Batman and Catwoman!” I move back to give myself breathing space, my body is too eager to wrap around her and hug this all away, but I know it won’t help either of us. So majorly confused. I never saw this coming at all, and I am pretty sure Sophie is having some sort of midlife crisis, that this is all a huge misunderstanding.

It has to be because I literally don’t know how to navigate us out of this. She slumps down on the floor facing me, as I hit the wall behind my back and slump down too, mirroring her across the carpet, unsure what else to do or feel in this moment. I have a slew of reasons pouring through my brain about why this is wrong, as if I would even contemplate it......which I wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

Sophie has never been that kind of a deal to me...well, maybe that once, a long time ago. I looked at her that way for a brief moment, but that was before. We have come so far since I first met her, we have become so much more to each other than this. She’s my Best Friend, in every way. She trusts me to never cross her boundaries.

“If I knew what to do then I would be doing it.” She sniffs through quiet tears and my heart is literally wrenched out of my chest. She looks so broken and I hate myself for this, for not feeling that way about her too. For not responding to her love confession with one of my own.

Fuck! I do love you Sophie, just not the way you want me to.

“You and me, Sophs, it’s always been innocent. It’s always been platonic. I don’t get how this...” I can’t tear my eyes from her, trying to let this sink in.

“You don’t get how I could fall in love with you? Really?” Anger spikes in her voice, that dripping sarcasm replacing the pain, and for a moment I stare at her in awe. The beauty that is Sophie. That fire when she’s hurt, that self-preservation kicking in to fiercely protect her wounded soul. I hate that it’s here between us now, but at the same time it’s a part of her that I have always loved.

Her strength, when faced with pain. She will always be my fighter, my survivor, my little warrior. It rips me apart some more, knowing I’m seeing it now because of me, it’s aimed my way, as I watch that angelic beauty start to close up on me, reverting to inner Sophie to shield herself from the agony that I’m inflicting on her. Stomach and heart meeting in unison as both drop low in my pelvis with a thudding pang of regret. I’m never usually the cause for her to recoil inside her Sophie defense system. I’m normally on the inside with her and helping her to find her way back out.

“Is it really that awful, or unbelievable?” She struggles to her feet, that mask lifting up to shield her emotions, her face calming to impassive, and her wall building. I can see it happening right in front of me and I’m powerless to do anything about it. It’s killing me to see it from this side once more. It’s been five whole years since I was over this side of the wall, and it took a hell of a lot of work to break through. I never imagined it would be her love for me that sent me back to exile after all we have been through.

I stand up too, feeling at a disadvantage down here and my legs are not as rubber as they were moments ago. I think the shock is wearing off, and still reeling in indecision. I find concentrating on being upright a momentary relief.

“No, it’s just … Sophs, this is morally wrong, it crosses so many boundaries. I’ve been your guardian since you were a kid. I watched you grow up … I know everything about what he did to you. We could never …”” I’m rambling, trying to grasp at the bricks she is piling up between us and push them aside, make her see sense, while still letting this sink in and the huge obstacle this could be. I’m trying to convince myself too, but it’s stupid.

I know how I feel, right? Natasha – girlfriend. Sophie – best friend, kid sister, sort of. There should be no feeling of confusion about that.

“Jesus Christ! It’s not like I am about to force you to have sex with me for god’s sake. Overreacting just a tad, aren’t we?” She snaps at me, stalking to her dresser and swipes a hairbrush angrily, seemingly intent on killing her hair, rather than me, I guess. That cold veil of ice moves through my body at the image she has planted in my head, of her, and me, doing something naked that should not be in my head at all. Like a flash of ex rated something, I would never ever allow to materialize, and it makes me feel like I am suffocating as I blink it away and yet steadily get a stirring in my pants. Feeling like a grade A perverted creep for even picturing myself doing something like that to her. Anxiety back tenfold at the wrongness of what I just imagined doing to her, with her, and the immediate weird reaction, even if minor, my dick had.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Jesus, Sophie, ... don’t put that visual in my head ... I don’t want to think about sex with you. I couldn’t ever do that to, or with you ... I don’t think I could even kiss you, let alone ...” Mumbling aloud while trying to push thoughts of doing all of that out of my head in sheer panic and disgust, but naked Sophie is harder to shift than I ever imagined she could be. This is obviously why I have never allowed myself to ever stray down this path for love nor money. Now I can’t fucking shift it.

Sophie throws me a raised brow look that ignites the memory of her telling me we kissed, and the blood drains from my face as my heart misses a beat, guiltily. I really do feel like I may throw up this time as everything is unravelling before my eyes. Life going to shit in an instant.

“I know we did then, but I was drunk, and I don’t even remember. I don’t think I could ever...That I would want to if we.... Or I mean......It’s … just that you and I … trust, and our families … I can’t imagine I could kiss....” I can’t breathe, my chest achingly tight and my brain feels like it may self-implode. Vision swimming with black dots around me as I try to cram it all back inside my neat little brain shelving system. I don’t do well with drama, and chaotic situations like this.

“For the love of God!” Sophie snaps again, and I am alerted to her stalking towards me a little too late. Before I even know what’s happening, before I get a handle on this light-headed bullshit, Sophie’s hand is on my face and her mouth is on mine, nose to nose, lip to lip. Intoxicated for a brief moment by her lips and taste on mine. And everything stills...........

Just for a second, a blank moment of nothing but soft sweet lips on mine, butterflies, and longing for more. Brain taking a vacation as she brings me the calm I have craved my whole life. My messy brain stopping for a pure perfect moment of peace. Right before that full punch in the face realization that she is kissing me, hits me tenfold in the gut, and I jerk away; instinctively pushing her back by her upper arms. Stung by the mortification of what we are doing and that it wasn’t how I imagined it would be at all. I thought kissing her would be the worst experience of my life, not this….

“What the hell did you do that?” The shock of that moment of complete contentment, the stirring of something else inside of me, makes me feel guilty as shit. Natasha probing my head with a broken face and weeping wail, emotions spewing out of me and I’m aiming my frustration at Sophs. Lashing at her because my mind really has lost the plot and I no longer know which way is up anymore. Kissing her didn’t feel wrong in any way. It felt good.

“To shut you up; you’re rambling, and to clear up all your confusion... See! You clearly can’t. You can go now. Guess we’re done here.” She lifts her chin moodily, my strong fiery girl. When faced with pain she always hits it head on, defiantly.... my little warrior. I feel like a fucking shit head in this moment and when she moves away, and when I see that glimmer of crushing heartbreak in her face, I react without thought. I catch her by the wrist instinctively, pull her back hard and fast, and lock lips with her before the doubts kick in.