I felt as though I was going to be sick. Indeed, hot bile came into my throat, and I had to fight my own bodily instincts, as my mind fought desperately to wrap itself around what I'd just heard, to contemplate the unspeakable atrocity that the boy across from me now had faced. And as I stared into the face glistening with tears I realized that, for every bit of facade and front Elijah had shown me thus far, he was still in ways a boy, an injured young man who carried a load with him that I found hard to believe he'd survived. Suddenly my being deaf seemed as though the smallest of inconveniences to a soul being forced to carry this burden of pain with them throughout their life. And as I watched the pain that crossed Elijah's face as those unspeakable memories resurfaced I found myself feeling an anger I'd not believed possible before, an anger at someone I'd never set eyes upon. How could someone do such a vile thing to their own child, their flesh and blood they'd helped create and bring into this life?! And as I sat staring at the shaking boy before me I found myself wanting to do something, anything, that would comfort him. I wanted to let him know that that part of his past was just that, past. I wanted him to know that, though I hadn't the faintest idea of how I'd do it, I'd try with everything within me to keep him safe. And so I reached for the calloused hand that shook and quaked within his lap. But Elijah's reaction frightened me much more than anything else I'd seen or been told thus far.
The look that crossed his face as he jerked his hand from mine only impressed the more upon me that this was an injured little boy, someone who'd been dealt a wrong that would never be made completely right. But I wanted him to know. I couldn't explain at that moment why it was so important that I make him realize, but I knew I had to make him see that someone in the world cared for him, that someone in the world was willing to share his pain with him. And so before he had time to rise from the ground where we both sat or reposition himself, I did the only thing I could think to do; I grabbed both his hands and pulled him toward me. I didn't expect him to cooperate. Indeed, I believe I was more surprised at his willingness to give in to my guidance than he was at my reaching for him. He tensed for only a second. But as his blue eyes rose to meet mine again it seemed we both felt that connection, that language between us that no barrier, speech or hearing, could prevent. And as I nodded again to him, the only way I could think to confer my desire to help, to comfort him, I felt his lithe, tall frame finally give way and his full weight fall upon me.
Though it was clear that neither of us had expected the fall that found us both lying upon the leaf and need-strewn forest floor, Elijah made no effort to raise himself from where his head and shoulders landed upon my chest. Indeed, as I raised my own hands to a point that I was able to stroke his short blonde hair I felt his own arms reach round me until he held onto me like a small child. Though I could not hear them, his body's convulsions made it clear that sobs were wracking their way through his body. And as I lay with this beautiful injured boy's head upon my breast, his sobbing growing with each gasping breath, I realized that this was the first time he'd ever told anyone about this part of his life. I was the first person to hear what had happened to him that afternoon that had clearly haunted him since. But why me? Why was I the one he'd chosen to divulge such tragic things to? I couldn't understand why he would give such parts of his soul to me. By his reaction to speaking of what he'd experienced, I guessed that Elijah had never even spoken to his grandfather about what had happened. What was it in me that he'd seen or believed that he felt he could trust me with this horrific truth?
I wasn't sure how long we laid, nor was I sure how long we'd slept after arriving at such a position. All that I became aware of was the fact that some time after falling into the position we still lay in, Elijah's head still snuggled into my chest, we'd both gone to sleep. At least in his dreams Elijah's face had returned to a more serene appearance, rather than the wracked expressions of pain that I'd seen a few hours earlier. It seemed almost impossible to believe that the beautiful body that now snuggled in an almost need-like way into me now had been treated so cruel. And as my hands began to absently trace the scars of his back that could be felt even through the fabric of the worn shirt he wore, I began to form a promise in my heart; never, not within my power and ability, would Elijah be subjected to such a cruelty again. It was true, we'd only known each other a short amount of time. But within that short amount of time I'd grown to care very deeply for this angelic young man. I couldn't honestly believe that he felt the same for me, but I didn't care. I was determined, whatever means necessary, that I would do everything possible to protect this young man from such horror again. And as he stirred slightly in his peaceful sleep I found myself caressing the top of his forehead, ever so gently, found myself planting tender kisses all along his forehead and caressing his face with my fingertips.
I was not sure how long I lay with Elijah resting upon my chest, my fingers tracing small circles into his shoulders and my lips planting small kisses upon his head. At some point I did become distinctly aware of my back aching severely from both our weight resting upon it all night as we'd laid on the forest floor. But though my back ached terribly I couldn't bring myself to awake the beautiful young man that lay snuggled so warm and peacefully against me. Somehow, after hearing his story last night, it didn't seem fair to take away the peace and tranquility that he seemed to have found cuddled against me. I wasn't foolish enough to believe that there was some romantic connection to the serene expression upon Elijah's face. But if simply having a comforting and gentle touch could ease the pain he carried while awake, I wasn't about to take that away from him! But at some point during my inner musings I became aware of something that both took me by great surprise and frightened me. A long, calloused hand had snaked its way from around my my middle, up the length of my arm, and was not tracing circles around my chin and lips!
I jumped; in spite of every bit of self-control I'd tried to muster to allow Elijah to asleep, I jumped at the realization that he was, at least somewhat, awake. How was he going to take this? Would he be angry? Would he be furious at the fact that I'd been touching him, kissing him in such a way? In a matter of seconds an icy fear spread throughout my body, replacing any warmth I'd previously experienced. And as my heart began to pound within me I felt the movement of a lean, lithe body as it began to untangle itself from my own as Elijah raised his head to meet my terrified gaze. I couldn't read the expression that now held place upon his face. It wasn't anger, at least not in the same way I'd seen it before when he'd berated me over nearly being bitten by the snake. And the look he wore wasn't pain or grief. What did this intense look mean? Indeed, I couldn't help but wonder if Elijah himself truly knew what he felt as his blue eyes bored into mine. And in that moment it seemed that time stood still, my heart pounding a never-ending race, and Elijah's eyes boring into my soul.
For a moment I truly believed Elijah to be angry, possibly using every bit of self-restraint he had to keep from simply beating my face in. But as we stayed in the seemingly timeless connection of eyes peering into eyes, souls into souls, a surprising, wonderful thing happened. It was tender, and slow. It wasn't rough or forceful as I'd expected Elijah's wrath to be, but held a gentleness I'd rarely seen before. As I felt Elijah raise himself from the position he'd held I felt two strong arms encircle me and raise my own body until I found myself upright, and my trembling lips met with Elijah's own gentle, full ones. It was an elation, an overwhelming feeling of soulful joy and physical pleasure. This kiss wasn't demanding or forceful, but easy and gentle. And as the angelic face pulled away from my own and returned for another taste, I couldn't help but be amazed at the tenderness that hardened body before displayed as he fully wrapped himself around me, enveloping my body and relishing in my lips.