He loved her in spite of himself, or maybe because of it. All he wanted to do was be with her, but she was so far from being ready to take the next step of healing... Plus he was pretty sure if his boss knew where his thoughts were, he'd be out of this job. Her soul was full of these dark, gaping holes that hurt so much to see it tore him in two, but her eyes were full of longing and desire. He wanted to know what made her tick, what made her laugh, and what her favorite color was. He just wasn't supposed to get in this deep. He was in way over his head. She was too young to have dealt with so much. He smiled softly to himself, She's definitely not THAT young... He could feel her shiver when he touched her. He was pretty sure she wasn't a virgin yet she still was definitely unsure of herself. She could become an addiction he didn't need. But maybe JUST the addiction he wanted, as long as it didn't mess everything up. He sighed, seeing the last pieces sliding into place... Check... The thought chilled him to the core, but excited him nonetheless.
He fought to stay away, but every moment that passed made it even harder. He wouldn't last much longer.
Chapter Four – Droll
Today is gonna suck. Her psychiatrist was giving her that look already. “You are late again, Camille.” She sighed; that sigh telling Camille she was ten kinds of a horrible person.
“I'm barely late and it's better than last week. I showered AND shaved.” She shifted in the seat, feeling every bit like the naughty kid. “That has to count for something, right?” Her fingers twisted together in her lap.
The psychiatrist looked at her as though she was a pile of shit she'd scraped off her shoe. “Camille.” She sighed deeply, disgust permeating the sigh before she continued. “You aren't making progress like I thought you'd be. We are at the six month mark. I thought you'd be through more stages of grief. You shaved, and that is great, it's good to see you caring about your appearance in some ways, but here you sit wearing a shirt that is at least a size too small and pants that are about to fall off. This doesn't say much to me about you caring about your appearance or making progress.” She tapped her pen against her desk. Tap. Tap. Tap.
Camille slumped in the uncomfortable chair and grumbled. “But I feel like I'm making progress today. Right now.”
The psychiatrist raised her eyebrow incredulously. “Do you? Tell me about it.” Her pen was poised above this stupid yellow legal pad she always had. It sat on her ugly veneer desk which had no other decoration beyond a stapler and computer monitor.
Camille took a breath and for a split second thought about not telling the psychiatrist about him. She threw caution to the wind and said the hell with it. “I have been having these... Dreams,” she said slowly. “They have been coming since the night my parents died. It is always the same. It's like someone took the saturation of all the colors in the world and magnified them by a million times. I've never seen anything more beautiful. There is a man there. He tells me to keep moving. To push myself out of bed. Out of the house. I promised him I would, and I plan to keep my promise, even though I have been dragging my feet about it for a while now.” She leaned forward in the chair, resting her elbows on her knees. “I am going to get a few new clothes today. Clothes that fit, even though I don't want to spend the money and I might even do laundry. Like I said, I feel like there is progress. I feel like I'm right there, so close on the edge of something and it feels good, really good.”
Her psychiatrist was writing furiously in on her little yellow legal pad. She looked up and pushed her glasses down her nose, giving Camille a look that felt very much like she was being measured and found lacking. “So, Camille, have you been taking your antidepressants like I told you to?”
Camille swallowed nervously. “No. I don't like how they make me feel. They make me just want to lay in bed and do nothing, which is kind of the opposite effect they should have, isn't it?”
She tapped her pen on her lips and sighed. “I think we have much more going on than just grief, Camille. I'm going to be frank with you here. I think that you are suffering from schizophrenia and some audio/visual hallucinations. I am going to prescribe a couple of medicines for you that I want you to take. We are out of time for today, but I think that when you see me next week, you will find that your hallucinations have stopped and maybe we can begin progress on you working through your grief.” She scribbled on a prescription pad.
Camille sat quietly, ready to take the prescriptions and just not fill them when she felt warmth all around her and she even smelled a puff of salty air. It was him. He has never come to me during the day, her heart screamed. She felt warmth surround her. She couldn't see him but every fiber of her being could feel him. Every pore of her skin opened up to drink him in. It was like being in the darkness for years then stepping into the light. Then she felt warmth brush her ear. She shivered. He whispered. “You aren't crazy. I'm real. I'm just... different.”
Camille shivered again. She believed him. She didn't think she was losing her mind, she'd been down that road the last six months. With nothing left to lose she opened her mouth. “I'm not going to take the medicines. I don't think I'm crazy. I think I have a guardian angel. Lots of people have them. Psychics talk about this stuff on TV and I bet they aren't being told they are nuts.” She paused and thought about her argument for a second then continued, “Well, all the time, anyway.”
The psychiatrist sighed, her pen stilling on the paper. “Camille, we have gone through this. I can't help you unless you want to get better.”
Camille jumped out of her seat, her temper flaring hot. “But I DO want to get better. I feel like I am getting better. Why can't you see that?”
She smiled tightly, as if used to psychos... Which she was. “Camille, you are distraught. I am going to prescribe you some Xanax too, it's obvious we need something to curb your anxiety.”
“No, I think I'm actually seeing things clear for the first time in a long time.” She picked her purse up and went to the door. She turned the knob and let herself out into the lobby. He was gone again, but he'd never visited her during the day. She was doing something right this time - she was taking her life back. She threw the glass door of the office open, the metal frame of the door rattling against the frame. Fuck her. She hustled across the parking lot to Bertha and pulled the door open, sliding in the seat and laughing at the absurdity of it all.
Chapter Five – Divine
God, she even makes a Mickey Mouse t-shirt sexy... It had been way too long since he'd been with a woman. Angels don't get that pleasure, you know. His boss had decided to leave all those human emotions there just to mess with him and to make him work harder. He'd been fine, even working with some of the sexiest women on the planet. Hello Victoria's Secret Models... and yes, they wore Vicky's Secret to bed. But Camille... she was something else. The perfect mix of just innocent enough and desire, sadness and hope. She was setting him on fire. He looked up at the sky and thought, Boss, either this is meant to be or you are setting me up for a fall... and hell I don't even know if I care either way anymore.
He watched her fling the door of her hideous car open and die laughing in the front seat. He'd never seen her laugh before. Her whole face lit up and her green eyes twinkled. Her eyes weren't just run of the mill hazel-y green. Nope. They were the color of a leaf with sunshine pouring through it just after a rainstorm. This rich, vibrant, sometimes emerald green that was mesmerizing and entirely too enticing. It was like gazing into a meadow at dawn. He had noticed when he came to her in her dreams that her eyes went the color of a field of trees at twilight, smoky and rich, mossy deep. Eyes a man could get totally lost in... and he didn't have a map to get out.
After sobering up from laughing so hard it hurt, she realized she hadn't laughed in months. It felt good. It felt freeing. Mom and Dad would want her to go on. She'd been stuck in one place too long. It ached thinking of them. Kind of like a chest wound sucking air. The hole was getting smaller, but the pain was still there. But it was getting better. It was, regardless of what the psyc
hiatrist said.
“Screw your audio/visual hallucinations.” She marveled at the fact she had felt him. That's not just audio or visual! If this is going crazy, please, sign me up... she sighed and smiled to herself as she tucked her hair behind her ears. She was forever doing this, it came with the territory of her hair. She had strands loose all around her face all the time. She realized she was sitting in the parking lot of her ex-shrink's office looking just like a crazy person. A twisted smile on her face, she began doing some more hocus pocus to get Bertha to start. Finally, another five minutes later, she got the car started and was driving down the road again. She laughed again, tears running down her face. It felt good. She swiped at her eyes and focused on the road, sobering as she came back to the highway. She hated this highway and probably always would. It was the highway that her parents had died on.
She couldn't listen to music yet while driving, but the thought was tempting. Some fun 80s music would be on her radio one day, just not today. It just brought up too many bad memories she didn't want to revisit right now. She drove casually to the mall, being excessively safe the whole way. She hadn't been anywhere other than the shrink and the grocery store since the accident. She pulled up by the food court and parked. She didn't turn Bertha off, just in case she decided to run. Chances of that were fantastic. Maybe I could call a friend and we could go another day? She snorted out loud. I haven't heard from any of those fickle assholes since I blew up at them. Nope, I have to do this on my own, and I can. I can do this. She took a deep breath and put her hand on the handle of the door. Another breath got the door open. Another got her stepping out of the car. Two more got the door closed and her walking across the parking lot. Another three got her in the door. She sat down in the first seat available at the food court, which just happened to be across from a pretzel place.
She realized her stomach was growling like crazy and the pretzels smelled amazing. She really couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten. She was pretty sure she'd had a Lean Cuisine at dinner last night but she wasn't sure. Days had been blending together since he'd stopped coming. She stood and got in line for a pretzel. The cashier was cute in a geeky kind of way. “Hi, what can I get you?”
“Yeah, I'd like a pretzel with light salt and cheese dip please, maybe a lemonade too.”
The guy smiled. “Yeah? Anything else I can get you?”
“Um.” She murmured, her eyes as wide as saucers. “No. I'm good, thanks.”
“Oh,” The guy said, not realizing Camille had no idea she was being flirted with. He handed her the order. “Yeah, have a nice day, miss.”
“You too!” She made herself smile at him brilliantly. It felt good to smile.
Chapter Six – Dynamic
He leaned against the wall, and was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. The cashier wanted so desperately for Camille to notice him, yet she was totally oblivious. She probably didn't know that she looked absolutely take-to-beddable in that tiny little shirt and those sweatpants. The thin strip of creamy skin between where the shirt ended and those pants began, which were slung low on her hips, was absolutely delicious... He'd love to see if she tasted as sweet as she looked... She is your client. You have to stop doing this... He tried to keep his thoughts on track, but it was almost unbearable, especially watching her lick salt from her fingers absentmindedly. He could think of other things for her to... Damn it! He forced himself to stop, but his mind went there anyway. He could see those incredibly full lips kissing all sorts of parts of his body, and that little pink tongue dancing circles on his skin.
He knew the best thing he could do would be tell the boss to give this job to someone else. It would be the honorable thing to do since he was in way over his head with her. He just couldn't imagine anyone else seeing the worst of her then coaxing out the best of her. He couldn't imagine anyone else watching her eyes light up or go dark with pleasure. He knew it was wrong. All of it was, but it was too damn incredible to let go of. What if I never feel like this again? Hell, when have I ever felt like this? He rubbed his eyes in frustration.
He watched her casually finish her lemonade, chewing the straw as though she was contemplating some of life's greatest mysteries. I'd kill to know what she is thinking about. She finally sighed and stood, throwing her trash away. She picked up her purse and threw it over her shoulder and just paused, as if she'd seen something. She turned and looked right where he was standing with a slight furrow in her brow. He knew she couldn't see him, but it was interesting that she could feel him there, even though he wasn't revealing himself to her like he'd done before. He'd never had that connection with anyone and it was heady in a way to have it with her. She smiled softly as if she was thinking of something wonderful, and her eyes went bright. Boss, I'm a goner... he rolled his eyes up to the sky. I'm done for.
A hollow space filled her stomach. Taking another slow breath, she walked over to a store. This isn't so bad... A salesgirl came up to her as she walked in the door. “Hi! Is there anything I can help you find?” She smiled warmly.
“Um, I'm really not sure. I mean, I have lost weight and nothing fits anymore. I need a few things.” Camille fiddled with her purse strap nervously.
“Oh, okay. What do you like to wear?” She cocked her head to the right and looked Camille up and down. It wasn't a malicious or appraising look at all, in fact, it was friendly and just curious.
Her purse strap was being twisted one way, then the other. She was going to panic. “I... I don't remember. I haven't bought anything in a long time.” Her voice was barely a whisper and she felt the color leaving her face. I can't do this. I can't.
“Oh shit. Do you need to sit down for a minute? I can put you in the back as long as you don't steal anything. You are kind of looking pale. Come on. I'll get you a drink from the fridge in the back.” The girl put a hand on her arm and led her to the back. Camille let herself be pulled along. She pointed to an orange plastic chair. “Cop a squat and let me get that drink. Did your blood sugar drop or something? I know people who had diabetes so I kind of know what to look for. Oh, by the way, I'm Sarah.” She smiled brightly as she opened the refrigerator and shifted takeout boxes to find a soda. She kicked the door closed with her foot and handed her the cold can.
“I'm Camille.” She popped the tab on the drink and took two gulps, praying for the shaking to stop.
“You okay, need to talk? Anything? I mean I know you don't know me, but you kinda look like you could use a friend. I'm going on lunch in a few and I'd be cool with it if you tagged along.”
“I'd like a friend. I don't have any, anymore.” Her fingernail picked at the tab of the can, making an annoying plink-plink sound. She stopped and smiled sheepishly. “I haven't been out of the house in a while.” You sound so pathetic.
Sarah chewed her bottom lip. “Oh, well hold on a few, let me finish a couple things. You can chill here if you want. I'll be back in just a few minutes.” She took a few steps away and turned back. “Dude, please don't steal anything. I don't want to lose my job.”
Camille held up the can in salute. “You got it, Sarah.” She sat there self-consciously and rolled the can between her hands while she waited. This was going to be a lot more than she'd bargained for. I don't know if I'm ready for all of this yet.
Sarah bounced through the door, looking just like sunshine and happiness had sex and made a baby. “Okay, chick. I'm on break so let's go, I'm starved! You look a little better, I bet your blood sugar dropped. How do you feel?” Her wide mouth was smiling and her dark eyes twinkled. She was perpetually happy, it seemed. Camille got up slowly, nodded and followed Sarah through the front of the store. Sarah even dressed joyfully. Happy would have a vibrant palette, and Sarah was definitely portraying that. She was wearing a black mini skirt, a hot pink belt, and a lemon yellow scoop neck satiny shirt with lime green shoes. She was a walking, talking wall of vibrant color. Her hair played along with its flaming orange red; a rich coppery color that seemed to be made for her.
She didn't look tacky, in fact, she looked unbelievably beautiful. Plus she jingled as she walked due to at least ten bangle bracelets on each arm. She was a one woman band who was comfortable with herself and it showed. She talked to everyone on the way to the food court, smiling and waving. To most normal people, Sarah would be spirited, maybe even wild and weird, but to Camille, she was pretty awesome.
The next person that walked by, Sarah threw an arm up and waved. “Hey! You! Have a fantastic day!”
Camille awkwardly smiled and threw her arm up as well. The guy had happily waved and smiled back at Sarah, but gave Camille an awkward look. Okay. I must be doing the casual smile thing wrong.. The guy probably thinks I'm going to come in the middle of the night and rip his throat out, or something... God, I'm so socially inept... Amazing what hiding for six months does to you... Sarah turned to Camille with a bright smile. “So chick, what do you want to eat? My treat!”
Camille smiled back. “Are you always buying strange people food? You must be broke all the time.”
Sarah laughed and snorted at the poor joke. Camille knew she was being kind. “That was good! You are funny! Do that more often; you are cute when you smile. And nope, I only reserve lunch buying for the strangest people!”
“I'm on a special list? Really? It's almost as good as getting an Academy Award!” Camille felt herself loosening up a little and her old self peeking out. She kind of liked it.
Sarah snorted again and grinned. “I like you! I knew by your aura you were going to be alright.” She got in line for Chinese food.
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