Matthias Ayre.
Stormy blue.
The kindest man I've ever met.

My heart swells helplessly in my chest, an intense wave of happiness floating over me.

Over these last few weeks- as the weather has gotten colder and the sun's become dimmer- he's all I've been thinking of.

We've gone on several dates since that beautiful fairground,(romantic dinners, picnic adventures, movie nights) each one being magical and dreamy.

He asked me,
The week before last,
If I wanted to date him,
Or if he was moving too fast.
But, of course, I cheered,
And agreed to be his.
He's such a sweetheart.
Speaking of which-

I get a text notification.

Stormy: Hey darling

I smile.

Me: Heya Thais :p

Stormy: Can I come over? I'll cook!

My mind flutters uncontrollably, in apprehension. He's never actually been IN my house before. Looking over my pastel blue kitchen, I notice a few untidy details. My hands itch.

Me: Sure! Can't wait!

Stormy: I'm sure your house is going to be just as adorable as you are love :p

Me: It's nowhere near as cool as yours lol :( See you soon!

Placing my phone down, I start cleaning up straight away.

A while later, I hear another notification.

Then, my phone starts ringing.
I snatch it up, fiddling with the soft oven gloves on my counter.

"Hello, who's this?"
I go to wash a plate.

"Hello Cornelius."

The plate shatters to the floor.

"Mother?" My voice breaks, "What do you want?"

"I'm getting married. I'll send you the details later. Bring a date and try to not act like a weirdo this time. Bye." She hangs up.

"Bye" I whisper- my eyes tearing up.

It hasn't even been a year...

...

My hands are shaking erratically - out of control.

"Onetwothreefour" is repeating like a mantra out of my ice-cold lips.

"No, not anymore. No more counting!" I scream, my throat aching, a slow strain hitting it.

I hear the front door close.

No no
He can't see me like this
Be normal
Just be normal
Please

"Sweetheart", I hear him call as I crawl under the bed- my head is pounding, the tempo erratic.

"Cornelius! Where are you darling?", he calls again- yet this time it's more anxious. He's probably seen the mess in the kitchen...

My breathing picks up, my entire body is rocking. I start to count again.

Someone touches my arm; I flinch, digging my broken nails further into the delicate skin of my legs.

"No" I shout. It's harsh and aggressive and I instantly recoil.

"Bubba", the soothing voice says, "breathe darling. For me. Come on, breathe in and out, in and out, in and out, in and out"

He says it four times.

I start to relax.
This man is nice
He will protect me
From constant agony
He is nice.

I breathe.

Arms slowly wrap around my bruised body, lifting me into a comfy chest.

He smells nice. He smells of home.

"You're okay." He whispers, "It's going to be okay."

The soothing feeling, of his hand drawing circles on my back, lulls me into a deep slumber.

The last thing I remember is being lifted to the bed; a kiss placed on my forehead; an arm around my waist.