Play On (Game On 4)

Miguel was a “fixer”. If something was wrong, he’d do whatever he could to make it right. I don’t think he’d ever stumbled across a problem he couldn’t fix. If he couldn’t find the solution, just knowing he was willing to move mountains to try was enough for most people.

I’d been an idiot.

“Miguel. I’m sorry.” I shuffled around to fully face him. “For shutting you out and for being such a bitch lately.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. I understand. At least, I do now. I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“I needed it. I deserved it.”

“No.” Miguel sighed. “You didn’t. I should have been more patient, and you’d just woken up from a nightmare for God’s sakes.”

“A nightmare I have almost every time I sleep. And when I’m awake. There’s never a good time to tell someone they need to get over themselves, but-”

“That wasn’t what I-”

“I know. I know that’s not what you were saying but it’s the truth. Sometimes I get so weighted down by everything. I want to be myself again, Miguel. I want to laugh, I want to relax, I want to be happy. Most of all, I just want a break from this endless pain.”

A tear – another tear – dripped down my cheek but I didn’t take my eyes from Miguel’s. I’d blocked him out for so long, I wanted to let him in again. To let him see, to help him understand.

“It takes time, Freya,” he whispered. “Just time.”

As I continued to look into those deep brown eyes, the tears in mine reflected in his, the corners of his mouth curved into a tiny smile. A pulling sensation in my stomach, like the one I sometimes felt when I knew I had to get away from a certain place or situation, made me cast my eyes down for a second. The sensation wasn’t pulling me away, it was pulling me forward.

I’d never not listened to that tugging feeling before. Every time, however hard I tried to fight it, it always led me to a better place, even if only for a short time.

At that moment, nothing made more sense to me.

My skin tingled with the need to be touched, to connect. My heart seemed to vibrate inside my chest, like it was trying to shake off the hurt and find some respite, no matter the cost.

I reached up and placed my hand on Miguel’s cheek, and without hesitation, gently pressed my lips against his.

Miguel’s frame went rigid and he leaned back, cutting off my kiss before it really started. The confusion in his eyes should have made me back off but the tingling of my skin and my quivering heart weren’t ready to give up. Everything inside me, all the pain and anger, had gathered together, desperate for an outlet. I needed it. Needed him.

“Freya.” His breathing was a little ragged, probably from shock more than anything. “Why did you-?”

I closed my eyes, hoping with everything I had that he’d understand because I was unsure what to say. How could I explain something so totally alien to me? This had never happened before, but it was so strong. So impossible to ignore.

“Freya. I know you miss Will, but-”

“It’s not about that.”

The mention of his name pricked at my conscience but it was barely even a fraction of the agony I’d lived in for the last four months.

I stared into Miguel’s eyes again. “I can’t explain this. I can’t. I just… please. The more I try to talk the more confusing it gets.”

“You don’t think it’s confusing for me too? You’ve forced me to stay away from you since February and now you’re trying to kiss me?”

Heat flared in my cheeks. He was right. I was acting way out of character, and I should have been ashamed of myself. I think maybe somewhere deep down inside me, I was ashamed of myself, but I couldn’t let this opportunity slip by to, for once, allow myself a break.

“I should go,” Miguel said, shrugging the blanket off him and standing up. He wouldn’t even look me in the eye.

“Wait!” I quickly sprung to my feet and rested my hands on his shoulders, forcing him to look at me. “I’m sorry. I… It’s…”

I gritted my teeth, annoyed at myself for not finding the right words, or any words, to explain my behaviour.

Miguel’s shoulders loosened under my grip, and he put his arms around me with a small sigh. “It’s okay. I think I… I think I understand. But-” he paused and shook his head, “I don’t know.”

My head tilted to one side, tears still burning the backs of my eyes. I moved one hand around to the back of Miguel’s neck. This time, he was the one to close his eyes.