Hunger

Rory: Meeting Ray

I'm up before Austin the next morning. It's early but not early enough for it to be as dark as it is outside. The sleet and snow is still falling. A miserable, relentless winter howl is the soundtrack of the darkness. I walk over to the window and stare out at the bleak morning.

I can feel the cold seeping through the glass and onto my bare chest. It's the kind of morning you could spend creating art in your own breath on the glass. My nipples harden as I wrap my arms around myself for warmth.

Austin is sleeping on the floor about a foot away from where I'm standing. I want to wake him up but he looks so peaceful. After the nightmare he had it's probably best if I just leave him alone. A shudder runs through me at the memory of his hands around my throat. He's not going to listen to me, I know it, but I have to try. I have to tell him he needs help. Real help. What happened could have been so much worse. What if I can't wake him up next time?

The mirror in the bathroom reveals the ring of bruises around my neck. They bloom like blood red roses on my pale skin. I gently touch one and wince at the pain. The wounds stand in stark contrast to the pretty pink pointe shoe necklace I'm wearing, the one Austin gave me for Christmas.

My purse is sitting on the bathroom counter, and I start rummaging through it for my powder concealer. I don't want Austin to see the damage he did. He'll just feel guilty even though it wasn't his fault. Well, not technically. I find the powder and start touching up the spots on my neck just as Austin walks into the bathroom.

He sees what I'm doing and gently pulls my hand away so he can examine the bruises himself. His face looks stricken.

"Shit, Rory, it's even worse than I thought," he says.

"I'm okay," I assure him, dabbing at the bruises again.

"I can't say it enough. I'm so sorry," he says.

"How often does this happen? Be honest."

"Not often. Not as often as it does for Pixie... but I didn't recognize where I was last night. I just saw I was in a motel, and it always happened in a motel or hotel room. I felt someone, I felt you, up against my body and I freaked out."

I hesitate, and I know Austin can see the worry in my eyes.

"What?" he asks.

"You need help," I say softly.

Unsurprisingly, Austin shakes his head. "No time for it. I'll be fine. It's buried. It's over."

I look down into the sink and draw a deep breath into my lungs. "Baby, you are not okay. You can't keep living like this. It must be hell inside your head."

Austin turns away from me so he can start the shower. "That's nothing new," he says.

"Will you get help once we adopt Pixie?" I ask.

Austin nods.

"Really? Are you just saying that or are you serious?" I ask.

"I'm serious," he mumbles.

I guess it's the best answer I'm gonna get. Austin pulls off his boxers and steps into the shower while I continue powdering my bruises. After a minute or two he pokes his head out.

"You wanna join me?" he asks mischievously.

"Um... are you saying I smell?" I ask, pretending to be offended.