Charlene swore at herself silently when she dropped the roll of gauze yet again, unable to see just what others did when they called her graceful. In dance maybe, but tonight she hardly felt like the same person they spoke of. “Sorry...” She darted down and grasped it once again, careful to avoid Walker’s eyes the same way he did her. Funny, how punching a brick wall seemed to have that affect on people. New blood pooled on his torn knuckles, violently bright like the rage, the hurt, Walker wore on his sleeve. With gentle hands Charlene blotted a wet cloth to his skin before weaving gauze over and around each bruised one. “I know...” Her voice faltered terribly, coming to a cracking stop. “I know that you don’t like... talking about things but...” She gave pause, finally lifting her gaze to meet his. The way Walker’s lower lip trembled didn’t slip past her when she lift his chin when he wouldn’t, couldn’t, face her. “Maybe this time you should.” This time she was the one whose lips trembled, whose eyes became awash with tears. “If you can make me feel better when nothing is okay, shouldn’t I do the same?” Intense shyness, not for herself but the love extended with her offer, settled deep within Charlene’s chest. Before Walker could form an answer she looked away, pressing a kiss to his knuckles just after tying the gauze that now dressed them in place.
Every night, several times a night, Cash knew the schedule well by now, a wailing would cut through their tiny apartment, soon followed by a softer “I’ve got him” and Haddie’s quick quiet footsteps slipping from her room. He never knew exactly why she did it, Haddie knew if he was awake or not, yet she always made certain that he stayed in bed. Maybe concerned for his health, his football scholarship, maybe just because she wanted those moments to herself, something Cash couldn’t blame her for. Knowing what was happening made it hard to sleep, yearning to be there himself made it hard to sleep, he got little. Instead he listened, soft smiles of awe slipping across his face when Logan’s cries melted to nothing but coos in his mother’s arms, to Haddie’s soft humming of hymns, almost feeling accomplished when he recognized their names. For all the love that swelled in his chest, slowly expanding his ribs to the point of pain over weeks of witness, he never moved. Some times he told himself it was because he didn’t know any lullabies, his parents never sang them, others that he didn’t want to intrude on something Haddie had dreamed of for months. In all honesty, he was scared. Terrified. Terrified to see something he loved more than himself, more than life, this little family, only to have it pulled from his fingertips. With a short term lease, no concrete relationship between the two of them to speak of, and a child he spent nearly two years missing at stake, terrifying was the only word that could do this justice. Soon the ache in his chest turned into knots, how many more nights like this could he let pass him by? Miraculously, certainly not because their building was so nice and new, nor because of how dainty he was, Cash made not a sound as he snuck down the hall, not even a creak of the floorboards. There she was in all her sleep deprived beauty, bed head a mess and her pajamas a baggy shirt of his he hadn’t realized she kept all this time, with Logan nestled in her arms content as could be. This was it, perhaps a size too small to be given a name, two exes trying to raise a child only just returned to them, but this was what he wanted. “Oh! God – Cash, you scared me!” Haddie’s warm resonant laughter filled their apartment before Cash had time to react, only just realizing how close he had crept. “Sorry –” He broke into a sheepish grin and pushed his hands over his face. “I uh... just wanted t’find out what I was missin’ out on. Maybe get a turn myself.”
