Chapter 8

Saffron's p.o.v

A groan slips past my lips as I stretch the aching muscles begging for relief, a satisfying shake rumbles it’s way through my body, joints cracking and popping. I wince slightly as the muscles on my side pull, but let out a soft moan of contentment as my body relaxes into the fluffy mattress. The soft sheets feel cool against my hot, sleep-flushed skin. My eyes are met with an unfamiliar room, as they slowly peel open. It's fairly dark, due to both the mostly black decor and the fact that the only light is the soft beams that peek through the dark drapes. I slide to the edge of the bed,

goosebumps spreading across my skin as the blanket slips off of my legs, letting the cool air of the room wash over my warm skin.

As I head for the door, my feet tap softly across the floor. I continue on down the hall slowly, trying to navigate my way through the unfamiliar halls. Around a corner I find the staircase from yesterday, holding tightly to the rail I make it down the stairs.

Cautiously I turn into what I believe to be the kitchen, only to be knocked on my butt. I groan in pain, teeth clenching and eyes shutting as hot pain sears through my side. Muttering disdain at the wall, I slowly peel my eyes open..quickly I realize, it was very much not a wall.. But was indeed a very bare chested, sleepy looking Ezra. My face burns as I avoid his watchful gaze. His legs come into view as he crouches down in front of me, lowering himself onto his butt with a groan. “You ok hun?” I quietly hum at the gentle question. We sit in relative silence for a while, til I peek up at him, my brows scrunching in confusion, as I look at his hand outstretched in invitation. Reluctantly I rest my hand in his, watching as he gently runs his thumb over the thin scar that mars my skin. He turns my hand in his tracing the lines of my palm. Guilt bubbles in my chest as the memories of last night prod at my skull. Without warning my breathing becomes labored thinking about the way it had felt like HE was right there in front of me again, Ezra completely forgotten, seemingly morphed into that monster. My chest tightens, my lungs feel as if they're being squeezed by an invisible force. I freeze as arms wrap around my waist. Ezra's hand softly grips the back of my head, nestling it into the crook of his neck. I inhale deeply, vanilla and pine.. That smell.. It's Ezra, it's safety. "I'm safe! He won't hurt me!" I chant in my head, engraving that smell in my heart. My chest fills with warmth as he hums softly against my head. He threads a hand gently through my hair, patiently working out any knots he snags on. He pulls me somehow closer, as he feels my body relax. Tears burn at the back of my eyes. I haven't felt this safe in so long, not since my mother died. It both terrifies and relieves me how quickly he's breaking down my walls. It feels like the world is being lifted from my shoulders..

I mean he's only known me a few days.. who's to say that he won't tire of dealing with me...who's to say he won't eventually drop me when it all gets too heavy. I've had my trust broken many a time, but this is bigger... I can feel it, I know it is. If I put my trust in him, this time I don't know if I'll be able to put myself back together again. But I really don't think this is a risk I have much choice in taking. But it's a risk I think I might be willing to take.

After a few minutes of sitting like that, I pull my head away from his neck. My eyes widen slightly as I notice the wet spot on his collar; I didn't even realize that I was crying.. His hand gently cups face, his thumb brushing away the tears. I flinch when his thumb skims over the sensitive bruise on my cheek. He smiles warmly at me. “I'm sorry.” I utter, pulling away from his hands. I start to stand, so I can get out of his hair and stop bothering him, but his hand grips my hip firmly, stopping me from leaving his grasp. I stop, frozen in an odd slightly crouched position. “Why are you apologizing?” he asks, his tone soft but firm. I almost let another apology slip, but quickly close my mouth. He doesn't seem to like it very much when I apologize. It's just ingrained into my personality at this point, an automatic reply without even thinking.

“Hey,” he says softly, grabbing my attention back. “I- I'm sorry that you had to deal with… ‘that’ last night. And I- um got your shirt wet.. I'm sorry.” his gaze softens, green eyes smoldering with such care. “Saffron..” I feel so warm for some reason, hearing him say my name with such adoration shouldn't make me so happy.. but, it does.

“You have absolutely nothing to be apologizing about. I may not completely understand what's going on in that head of yours,” he poked my forehead before continuing. “But if you think that you've done something wrong just because you have scars from living through hell for so long, you're sorely mistaken. You have every right to not be ok.” His eyes were so intense as he spoke those words to me. Those words weigh on my mind so strongly. For years I've kept to myself about anything and everything and it just became normal. Now it's like everytime I'm around him I just want to tell him everything, spill my guts...And that, in all honesty... Is terrifying! His grip on my hip is released and I sink back to my knees. My eyes follow him as he stands up, offering me a hand. I rest my hand in his, sparks dancing warmly up my arm at the skin to skin contact.

I rise to my feet with the leverage of his hand. His eyes meet mine briefly before wordlessly leading me somewhere. “I bet you're hungry, huh?” he asks, as he leads me through the doorway of the kitchen. In all honesty I hadn't even thought about food, I mean you get used to ignoring your stomach's wants when you don't have the luxury of knowing when your next meal will be. I slowly nod at him though, not wanting to upset him. He smiles at me. I settle on a stool by the island, watching him glide around the kitchen, pulling out ingredients. The sound of metal clinking fills the room as he grabs a pan from the cabinet. Turning to me, he stops and asks, “coffee?” pointing to the machine. Nodding my head I hum a yes. The buzz of the coffee machine fills the room along with the sizzle of bacon, it's mouth watering smell invading my nose. My brows furrowed in confusion as another sound was added to the fray.. scratching?.. Ezra turned a knob on the stove lowering the heat before turning to me. “Do you like dogs?” I smile at the thought of puppies. “Yeah.” he sighs in relief. “Ok, good.” my gaze follows him quizzically as he disappears through the doorway. Excitement and nervousness churn in my belly as I wait for him. I jump as something thuds in the other room. Unsure whether he wanted me to go after him or stay put. I decide on the latter. Shifting impatiently in my seat, I bounce my legs off the foot bar of the stool. I freeze in my seat as something pounds down the hallway, scratching and sliding on the wood floor from the sound of it. My stomach churns as the sound quickly approaches. I gasp as a big, fluffy, white dog skids to a stop in front of me. I put my hand out but pull it back. I mean, don't get me wrong, he looks like a sweetheart, but you can never be too safe. I should wait for Ezra. The pup seems to notice my hesitation. He cocks his head to the side letting out a whine. Our eyes stay locked till he drops to the ground rolling on his back, barring his fluffy stomach to me. “So you are a boy.” his tail thumps on the ground at the sounding of my words. A small laugh bubbles up my throat at his cuteness. I jump as a voice sounds from the doorway. “He likes you.” without even looking I can tell Ezra's smiling. He walks over to us crouching down in front of the bundle of white fur, rubbing his belly. “I'm kinda surprised he didn't jump on you. I taught him manners, but those seem to usually go out the door when he's excited.” Chuckling, Ezra turns his gaze to me. “You can pet him if ya want, he won't bite, neither do I.. if that's what you're worried about” he's teasing me.. a tingle runs up my spine, heating my ears as I lower myself to the ground. “OH CRAP!” Ezra's scream startles me and the dog as he bolts to the stove. I smile to myself as his shoulders slump and he very dramatically throws his hands in the air, mumbling something about bacon. A small laugh slips from my lips, quickly cut off as I slap a hand over my mouth. He turns to me, an amused glint in his eyes and a smile adorning his face. As I thought, he was trying to make me laugh with that little drama show he put on.

“Well I kinda burnt breakfast, sooo… Cereal it is!” he smiles at me, turning to the cabinets.

“Is that ok?” I nod at him, going back to petting the dog that had surprisingly stayed seated next to me, curiously watching his owner glide around the kitchen. I look up as the sound of cereal hitting a bowl rings through the room. Getting up off my knees I settle back on the stool.

Ezra slides the bowl across the island to me, then the milk. After I carefully pour mine, I pass the milk back to him. He settles across from me, we're now eye to eye. I quickly break that focusing on my cereal. Silence dances around the room, it isn't an awkward silence, but I feel suffocated, his eyes on me, mine on my food. I don't know whether to be glad or not when he breaks the silence, but that is soon decided when the words slip from his lips.

“Do you wanna talk about yesterday?” I stiffen. There's so much behind the story of yesterday. I don't know if it's a story I'm ready to tell, nor am I sure if he's ready to hear it. He must have noticed my stiffness or the desperation pleading in my eyes to drop it. I know in my heart that after how I treated him yesterday in my panic, he deserves to know.. But not now.. It's not the right time. “You don't have to tell me if you're uncomfortable, sweetheart.” my shoulders slump at his reassurance.

Relief and guilt riot in my stomach. I can feel the bile bubbling like lava up my throat. He looks at me in confusion as I quickly stand up. “I'm so sorry, please excuse me.” I rush down the hall, up the stairs, and back to the room I woke in. Closing the door gently, I slump against the door, sliding down to the floor.

Burying my head in my arms I finally let the tears that have been begging for release fall.

“Momma.. What am I gonna do?”