The Work Never Ends

          Panting. Heavy breathing. Weighted stillness.

          That was all that could be heard and felt in the darkened room for several minutes. Two bodies, trying to calm their breathing and bring their rapidly beating hearts back to a normal rate, took in the weight of the stillness they no doubt both felt. But it wasn’t a bad stillness. It was…good. Tremendously good. It was something they had both been waiting for for awhile and something they both appreciated just as much as the other. It was something they both needed, and only from the other.

          One hand deftly slid across the bed, gently grabbing hold of the other hand it was searching for. Fingers slid in between the other’s as one body turned and pressed itself against the other. Head resting on chest, hand sliding up torso, lips were gingerly yet passionately pressed to a shoulder. No words were said, but every feeling was communicated with touch. A soft kiss that lingered, and then a smile lit up the features of both faces.

          The woman’s face moved down to look at the man’s chest, expression changing to curiosity. Her fingers roamed over various scars as she looked over others. Brows furrowing, concern lightly colored her features, wondering how something could’ve marred such a beautiful body. So wrapped up in examining each of his scars on his chest, she didn’t even feel the man’s own hands starting to explore her body. Her thoughts were only jolted to the present when she felt a sensation she wasn’t very used to.

          He had found her own scars, his fingertips beginning to lightly brush against the raised skin on her back. Emotion suddenly welled inside the woman, building up in her chest. Catching a glimpse of concern on the man’s face to her reaction, she hid her face from him and tried to quell the memories that threatened to spill from her eyes. She sat up, trying to calm her nerves, as her body began to tense up from the other’s touching. A deep breath, and her hands started to shake, tears falling down her cheeks. Then a pause, as she now felt nothing on her back. She took the quiet moment to get the emotions out she needed to, all the while quickly trying to cover up the effects her emotions created.

          Another deep breath as the man sat up to join her, hands tenderly roaming over her back. This time, the woman couldn’t stop tears from rolling down her cheeks, though she tried harder to keep the memories they brought at bay. His hands were gentler, softer, tamer than what she was used to feeling on her back. Though it was comforting, her hands were still shaking. This was perhaps more intimate for her than sex, letting someone see and touch her scars. The man caught her nervousness that hinted at her insecurity, and then wrapped his arms around her to pull her closer.

          “Evie…” His voice, barely above a whisper, resonated within her as the care in his voice enveloped her like a security blanket. Everything about him was soothing, comforting, safe. She began to let the care and safety she felt from him melt into her, down to her bones. It began to overwhelm her, as she had never felt such a thing before. Tears welling up again, she buried her face in his shoulder, holding onto him like he and the goodness he brought with him could disappear any second.

          “I-I’m sorry. Kyle, I’m—…I’m sorry,” was all she could get out. She didn’t want to be insecure anymore. She didn’t want to be ashamed anymore. She didn’t want to hide herself anymore. She didn’t want to feel like a burden or a nuisance because of her emotions and her many triggers anymore. She just wanted to feel…alright. This man, still accepting her after discovering her scars, was already helping with that.