129. 𝑌𝑜𝑢

                                    

                                          
Queen
I moved to the foot of the bed and he emptied the contents of his jean pockets, placing them on the desk beside the bed. When he was done, he sat back on the bed. He held an arm out for me and I slithered into the space between him and the bed rail. It was a tight squeeze but I hadn't felt so comfortable since waking up.
 I snuggled into his side, inhaling deep as he wrapped his arm around me. "You smell so good."
He poked my side. "Stop being weird." 
"Learn to take a compliment."
He let out a huff, settling into the bed and I closed my eyes. "You cannot be comfortable."
"I am," I mumbled.
"Okay." He was quiet for a few seconds. "The rail isn't hurting your back?"
I shook my head.
"You aren't sore anymore?"
"Syn," I groaned, lifting my head to look up at him.
"What?" He raised both of his brows. "I just want to make sure."
"Stop worrying, please."
"How do you suggest I do that?" His voice was soft, his eyes genuinely curious. There was a sadness behind them that I hated seeing. But I understood where they came from. 
"You died, Queen. Every time your eyes close I wonder if it's because you're sleeping or because you're dead. I can't hear you anymore and it's a little bit terrifying. So please bear with my incessant questions until I can learn another way. Just for today, if you close your eyes-- answer me. And if you get tired of speaking, then just look at me."
Guilt hit me like a truck as he explained himself. I guess my not having a heartbeat was going to be an adjustment for both of us. He never had one, so the way he was feeling was completely foreign to me.
 In all the time we knew each other, he used my heartbeat as a cheat sheet. When I was afraid, he'd know. When I was lying to him...hungry. From the moment I woke up and through my dreams, my heartbeat was his guide to everything. Even before he truly knew me. 
He had to learn me all over...
I placed a hand on his other shoulder and used it as support. I swung my leg over to the other side of him and I straddled him. His eyes were full of questions as I adjusted myself and once I settled, I took his hand into mine. 
I placed his hand over my chest and waited for a beat. "What do you feel?" He tilted his head at me in slight disbelief and I pushed. "Come on."
"Mm. Your chest."
Asshole.
But it was a start.
"And what's my chest doing?"
He fell silent and I watched him. His eyes were focused on our hands- watching the rise and fall of them against my chest and a smile reached his lips. He was understanding. "Now," I said, removing his hand and placing it right in front of my face. "What do you feel here?"
I inhaled and exhaled through my nose as I normally did. He nodded slowly as the air fanned his palm and I moved his hand to my stomach. His palm rested flat against it and I swallowed a nervous breath. I wasn't exactly out of shape, but it had been a while since I did...anything. He didn't seem to give a shit as usual and squeezed a little. "And what am I supposed to feel here?"
Well, besides the belly fat. I cleared my throat. "I'm not sure if you can feel it, but if you listen hard enough..." I eyed him and he looked up, focused. I braced myself for the embarrassment and when he smiled, I raised my brows. "You understand?"