the ordeal of being known

Layla

Two days pass with no contact. It has been a long process of realization for Jess and Layla; however, this was the first time where he did the avoiding. Kione texted her more than once, asking her what she did. She didn’t answer, and Jess didn’t reply to her texts.

She decided to go to his apartment. She still had the key.

Mateo was nowhere in sight. She missed him as well and wanted to see him.

The door to Jess’s room was open, and it smelled like sweat. It caused an alarm in her mind, as he was the spotlessly clean kind of man and wouldn’t like his room to smell like anything other than vanilla.

Jess was lying on the bed, in his workout clothes, sweat drenching his hair. His bed wasn’t made and he hadn’t even taken his shoes off.

“Jess?”

Nothing. He didn’t even lift his head. He was just staring at the ceiling. “Shouldn’t you be taking a shower?”

He sat up, his eyes looked redder than she’d ever seen them, he probably had a bad night, a small stab of pain went through her chest at the thought that he could have talked to her but didn’t, this was how Jess acted when he was sad, retreating into a shell.

“You were right.”

“About?”

“I was having a hard time sleeping yesterday, and I decided to ask for help. Simple, just ask one of my friends if they could just come over and stay the night and just be here, I guess.”

“And?”

“I couldn’t do it. It just wouldn’t come out, so now I’m tired and I need to shower, but I’m too tired.”

“Get up ,” she told him.

“No. You got your breakdown. It’s my turn now.”

“Get up, Jess,” she repeated, making the gesture with her hands before grabbing him and pulling. He was terribly heavy, and she made a show of grunting and struggling.

He huffed and stood up. “My heart is too good. I couldn’t let you struggle.”

Layla pulled him using the waistband of his shorts. Once they were in the bathroom, she closed the door. Jess was just staring at her with a confused expression.

She pointed at his shoes. He took them off along with his socks.

Layla stepped closer, slowly and then timidly reached for his shirt. She lifted it. Jess was having a hard time processing what was going on.

Then she tugged at the band of his pants again. “Can I? Is that okay?” Jess swallowed and nodded.

⸻

Jess

She pulled them down. He searched her face for any reaction, but it wasn’t really there. She wasn’t really looking at his body; he thought she should look in case she ever wanted to draw him nude, but he felt that this wasn’t the time for that particular train of thought.

He was completely naked. She pointed at the shower and he walked in. Again, he wondered if she would look at his butt; it was nicely built.

Layla was still in clothes. She wouldn’t take them off, but she took her shoes off and she tied her hair back before walking in with him. She turned the water on. “Do you like it cold or hot?”

“Cold.”

“That’s horrifying, but okay.”

She reached for the shampoo and started running it through his hair, lathering it over his scalp and massaging his head. There was a little distance between them, but it felt so good. He leaned his head back on the wall and shut his eyes. He always felt like he was floating around her, but this was on another level.

He loved her, he realized. It was in the way he no longer felt like his heart belonged to him; it was in the way he wanted to tell her every beautiful thing he laid eyes on reminded him of her. It was in his starvation for her touch, in the smell of rain, in the sweet taste of hot chocolate, in every intimate act he witnessed. It was everywhere; it had started spilling over everything. He wanted all of her.

She wouldn’t have believed him if he told her that night that he loved her. She’d been told too many times that she was unlovable, that anyone who loved her would have to have rot in their brain in order to feel that way. She never even realized some part of her believed it.

He wanted her to touch him all the time. He’d always been the person initiating physical touch with others, but he still remembered that small window of vulnerability when she’d asked him to play with her hair. He liked that she’d asked; he wanted her to want him to touch her all the time.

It was infecting every part of him, his want, all of him ached, wanting more and more of her.

Then her hands were on him, on his skin, and he felt like he was on fire. He felt so dizzy; she used her hands to spread it all over, and rinsed him clean, running her fingers through his hair and spending a good five minutes just rinsing his hair, he opened his eyes, her hands was shaking slightly, her hair and clothes were wet and she was the most beautiful being he’d laid his eyes on.

She kissed his chest, then turned him around and kissed his back. Jess intertwined their fingers, his back to her chest. He kissed her hands, her palm.

“You know, I bet the stars would be very pleased to know that they created someone as bright as you,” he signed. “Do I always need to be sad to be touched by you, Layla?” 

⸻

Layla

“I’m sorry,” she said. She’d made a mistake. She’d been unfair. She thought she would have to wait. She had to go see her parents soon. She didn’t know what would happen then and if anything happened, how she would react? She didn’t know what she would need to ground herself after the visit. She had to tell him if she wanted to be in a relationship with him and she’d never told a soul before.

Would he think differently of her? Layla had heard stories of women who had been abused formally opening up to people and then having others use it against them. It was unfair to think of Jess like that. He wouldn’t, but the fear was there, regardless of how she felt about him, regardless of his nature.

“Alright, how about this? If you’re sad or if you need anything, you tell me. You don’t pull away and retreat and deal with it on your own and I’ll do the same. What do you think?” She asked.

“You want to give it a try?”

“More than anything. I know I might not show it, but I do. I really do and I’m trying. Every day I try, but sometimes my attempts are really small, so small you might not see them, but you have to know in your heart that they’re there, okay?”

“Will you stay here? Just until I fall asleep?” he asked. She agreed. He snuggled in and gestured for her to follow, so she did.

“You painted everyone.”

“I did.”

“But not me.”

Something like pain flashed through her eyes. She sat for a few seconds before reaching for her phone.

There was an album in the photos app specifically of all times she drew him, painted him, digitally or in real life.

Jess snatched the phone and rolled around in bed. He kicked his feet as he scrolled through and he complimented himself every five seconds.

“I knew you were obsessed with me.”

“I knew this was a mistake.” She tried to take the phone away but Jess laid on top of her, putting his whole weight on her so that’s she couldn’t move.

“You really captured the way my hair falls in a perfect way, you know? It’s like I’m straight out of heaven.”

“I can’t breathe.”

“You’re fine.” A pause. “Right?”

“I guess it’s alright.”

Jess reached one of the pictures where Layla drew a tattoo on his lower stomach.

“Oh, what’s this? A fantasy perhaps?”

“I just thought it looks cool.”

Layla’s look was more than a ‘it looks cool’ kind of look. It was more of an ‘it’s so fucking attractive’ kind of thing.

“So you like tatted men, then?”

“I like tattoos in general. Before I moved away from my parents’ house, I worked at a tattoo shop, then I had to quit and I worked at a pet store next.”

“You can tattoo me if you want, just like the picture.”

“Don’t be silly.”

“What? I’m serious.”

He was serious; nevertheless, she did not tattoo him that night, since they couldn’t figure out what to tattoo and he kept suggesting that she tattoo her eyes on him.

She stayed long after he fell asleep. She locked the door so that Mateo wouldn’t walk in and see her. She texted Kione to let him know everything was alright, and then she was left with her thoughts. She was going to build up the courage to ask him to go with her. She wouldn’t have him in the same room as her parents, but if he could stay at a hotel nearby? She’d feel safer.

⸻

The next day, Celia decided she wanted to have everyone for dinner. Layla helped with dinner. It was intimate, just Celia, Onika, Kione, Mateo, and Jess.

When they sat at the table, Celia mentioned they should do this often, maybe do a barbecue next time, invite Amir, Noor, and her mom as well.

“Why don’t you invite your parents?” Mateo asked Layla. His eyebrows were raised.

A silence fell on the table. Layla gave him a look filled with so much loathing he almost flinched.

It was an unspoken rule that no one asked about her parents, even though she’d never said anything about them. It was obvious that there was something there in the way she always mentioned a sister but not a parent, in the way she once mentioned she had a brother when no one knew she had more than one sibling. It was in the way she would stiffen and change the direction of conversation whenever anyone asked. Mateo knew that better than anyone.

She knew a part of him felt almost betrayed; he thought that because he hadn’t explained whatever happened when he went to the hospital, Layla had been holding a secret back from him on purpose to punish him. Mateo had gone through some ‘mysterious incidents’ where he refused to talk about what happens, but other than that, there’s not a single thing he didn’t share with Layla. He tells her everything.

Celia glared at him. Girls have a different kind of closeness. Their intuition made their intimacy a lot bigger because a lot of the time they don’t need to use words to know something was wrong. Celia was the kind of person who just always knew. She felt whatever the other person wasn’t saying. Like her mom.

The siblings started fighting in Spanish. Layla didn’t say anything. Her face was devoid of any emotion.

“Are you okay?” Jess asked.

“It’s probably just his abandonment issues.” She sounded like a robot analyzing a situation. He didn’t like it. She played around with her food.

Layla did that gesture with her hands, and Mateo noticed. He stopped fighting with his sister and muttered,  “Sorry, okay?”

Layla put her hands back down and went back to eating.

“I have to go to Houston to see my sister. You could come meet her,” Layla offered.

Mateo was quiet, contemplating.

“Oh, what if we all take a trip? Make a day out of it?”

“A trip? To Houston, of all places?” Kione asked.

“You don’t have to come,” Onika told him.

“You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

“Sure,” Layla mumbled. This could be good, having a distraction there just in case, something to put her mind into.