Alexi just looks completely unemotional and moves back, giving me room as I slowly lower my limbs, but his eyes never leave mine. I wipe my face and grab the grey fur throw from the couch and haul it over myself pathetically; needing a moment to regroup and put this shit back to bed. I feel vulnerable and way too wide open and eye him with zero trust. Embarrassed, humiliated and aware that I just put myself out there in a stupidly vulnerable position.

I never fall apart anymore, I never let that stuff resurface and yet somehow the way he was being, the sense of being controlled and hurt,...