Chapter 19
"Well, that was fun." Savannah whispers in my ear, her breath hot.
"Y-yeah." I manage to say, making a big effort. Saying we're out of breath would be an understatement. We're sprawled on the couch, destroyed. I haven't done so much exercise in years, probably last time was in one of my dance battles or play-fights I had with him before he started hurting me. I was around eight when it started. I feel the panic and guilt rush trough me, stealing my already non-existent breath. I feel dirty, disgusting. Memories flash in my head, memories I don't want to think about, shouldn't think about. I heard from a psychology lecture that in these situations I'm supposed to think of other stuff, happy stuff, or do something that distracts me, but they're like monsters, haunting me, grabbing and blocking me, no matter how fast I run they're always there to drown me. I can't think of anything else, I have to think of something else. But in my head I see that time we went camping and put the tent far away from everyone else, I remember cooking marshmallows on the fire, looking at the distant lights of other campfires. I was nervous because it wasn't the first time, I didn't want to tell anyone about it because I didn't want him to be in trouble, and even if I did, even if I did scream at the top of my lungs, he made sure to be so far away from the rest that no one would hear me. He told me to go inside, to get ready because he was ready, that he was going to deal with putting all the food away. But then while I was crawling in he said he already couldn't contain himself any longer, he put a hand on my calf, I froze. He shifted to a cat-like position, right behind me. I was already half inside, he stood up on both knees and put his other hand on my thigh-
"Hey, you ok?" I feel Savannah's arm wrap around me. Again, I escaped from the room and now I'm being pulled back in. I reposition myself so that my head rests against her shoulder, her arm under my neck. All the panic and the memories wash away, even though I still feel disgusting. Even after all those showers when I've scratched my skin until I bled, I still feel filthy. But now it doesn't matter, Savannah's here with me, I should concentrate on that. Fuck my plan to not think about her in that way, it's what I need right now, tomorrow I can go back to hating myself for giving in.
I give a little nod, not saying anything and letting myself sink into her. We stay like that and nothing else matters again. The fact that I feel like this for her should scare me, but I'm too affected by her spell to care. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't think of anything else. It's amazing that a feeling so simple but so complex can do this and so much more.
She pulls me in a bit more and I can smell her perfume. She smells like a minty aftershave, which makes no sense, but it's so good I wish I could smell it every time I fall asleep. At this point there's no reason to keep on saying that it's just a celebrity crush, it's so much more. I don't know if I've fallen yet, and I really hope not, but this is because of her, not Savannah Petroli, italian TikTok star. When I'm with her I don't even connect her to the girl she was a few years ago, I forget they're the same person. But still, I have to keep my guard up and not make it anything more than a stupid crush, I can't risk being hurt. My romantic life is the only thing that hasn't been ruined yet, I can't let myself fall for someone who will surely break my heart. If this were a movie, this would mean that she's falling for me, but it isn't, it's real life. Things aren't that magic and I'm not that lucky. She's a million times better than me, she can do way better than me. She was going for fucking Jane, for God's sake. A meme I saw the other day came to mind. It was a conversation between "Our Gay Friends" and "Lesbians," it went something like this:
Our Gay Friends: "If a girl says she likes you, it means…?"
Lesbians: "As a friend?"
Our Gay Friends: "No! It means she wants to date you, which means you've found a…?"
Lesbians: "Friend?"
Which is a hundred percent accurate, at least from what I got from the online lesbian community. Maybe this is one of those situations where I can't understand perfectly obvious signals. I giggle at how stupid I sound.
"What?" I hear Savannah say against my head.
"Huh?"
"You were laughing."
"Oh. Yeah, it was nothing."
"Sure? You could share."
"Huh? No no no, seriously it was nothing."
"Come on, tell me." She says, tickling me. Unfortunately, I am very ticklish. I laugh against my will but Savannah laughs too, making it all that little less embarrassing. After a few minutes of her being annoying and me trying to punch her we stop, out of breath once more, me half on top of her and her blocking my wrists, and again, we look into each other's eyes. Her eyebrow cocks up and she says "I didn't think you were a top. Unless you're both a pillow princess and a dom."
Oh. "Damn girl, me? A top? A dom? Seriously? I'd rather yeet myself out of the window."
She chuckles and turns us around, so that I am smashed against the couch, in a lying position, her hands still around my wrists. One of her knees is in the middle of my legs, not quite there but close. My breath hitches, my mind goes even more blank than before, which I didn't believe possible. Her face is so close to mine, our noses are almost touching. She leans in, closer. I close my eyes and flinch, she goes towards my ear and whispers "Good." Jesus, fuck all those Billie Eilish TikTok trends, this overtakes them all. She jerks away quickly, leaving me laying there, breath and heartbeat uneven, flushed and confused, arousal pulsing in my body.
"So, what movie do you want to watch?" She says, sitting and watching me, as if nothing happened at all. How the hell can she be so ok when I'm here dying?