Barstool Condolences Pt.4

Her jaw hung agape like a door with a broken hinge.

She wanted to use it. Move it. Form words with it, but it felt too heavy. Her tongue was numb, stuck floundering on the bottom of her mouth. Useless.

It was him. And he was standing right in front of her.

The smell was the first thing that took advantage of her, bringing her back to prior times - forcing the memories to come out of the depths of her brain, reintroduced to the light. He had always smelled good - his scent tickled her nostrils. It was a pleasant scent of musk and flowery clothes detergent, the perfect combination to tell her mind that he was both strong enough to never let her fall, but soft enough that when she needed someone to lean on, she would be embraced wholly in him. It always reassured her. It made her think of the thickness of his arms - how her hands could barely wrap around the bottom of his bicep, or the shape of his waist - the lines of his hips. It made her want to nuzzle up against his neck, lost in the waves of a comforter on a Sunday afternoon.

His appearance was what had changed, although his eyes were still as warm as ever, a deep mahogany, dark and stormy, brooding with passion, but inviting. His face was no longer bare - it was covered in hair, the kind that grows when one loses the motivation to impress others. It was perfect for the harsh winds outside, but far from ideal to touch another's face. She was relieved that even through the beard she could still make out the lines on his face that were the foundation of his smile. That hadn't changed either. She knew it would be as big and carefree as it always had, illuminating his face.

It crossed her mind that he must have noticed the markings on her face. The swelling. The bruising. He had always been so compassionate. Before it all crumbled, they had a strong bond, stronger than she had ever felt - he would never let anything happen to her. Now that he had seen her face, she was scared.

She didn't know what he would do.

He was an imposing force. His body was well taken care of - sturdy, chiseled, dangerous when driven by rage. It didn't help that he knew who had done this or that he was the reason that their bond had fallen apart. She knew he loathed him for taking away the most meaningful person in his life.

Her mouth began to work when he took a seat next to her.

"That seats taken." She knew it was a lie and so did he.

"It's nice to see you again."

Her heart began to melt.