Trista's Room

[Kyle Stockholm]

It must have been horribly uncomfortable for Trista to be holding him like she was. He was practically convulsing, he was shaking so hard. His breathing had quickened and his chest was rising and falling in heavily uneven patterns. Short breaths left high pitched squeaks, and long breaths brought his chin to his neck as he tried to gather the air in his lungs. He didn't want Trista to hold him, but he did at the same time. He needed someone to hold him. He needed human contact. It would (eventually) calm him down. But until then, he'd shake, in horrible pain.

"I should go," he managed, pulling ever so slightly away from her. He was still shaking, still very clearly far from fine. But he couldn't be here like this. Not like this. He was taking this like a child! He'd practically thrown a fit just like a child being said 'no' to. He was embarrassed, pained, and suddenly quite tired. The emotions were too much to bare and his head hurt. "I just.. I should really go. I need to go home, get my patch on..."

He had the patch. And it was clearly visible over his left shoulder.

Fumbling for the doorknob, Kyle tugged his sweatshirt back up over his shoulders and stepped back into his shoes. "I'll call you later, we can go get ice cream or something," he mumbled, his voice shaking as hard as his body. "We'll celebrate. This is worth celebrating. Your relationship, I mean. Your.. your.. fuck."

He was gone. Physically, he hadn't managed to open the door. But mentally...

he was gone.

[Trista Kline]

The shaking didn't ease up, and she only felt awful. She didnt know why, but she did. Shouldn't he be happy? He had Rachel, and now she had Erik. They both had someone. They should be happy. They should. His reaction meant he cared, surely though only a friend. Maybe he really didnt have a patch. Perhaps this was all very real. It was very possible that she'd been assuming this was all about her, when it wasn't really. That would be very selfish. Surely she wasn't important enough.

Pained eyes opened when he pulled away, and she couldn't hide her hurt expression. Never had he pulled away from her. It hurt. More than it should have. But she just cared too much. She didnt want to let him go. She didnt want him to fight his demons alone. Her arms felt empty, cold, without him. "Kyle..." She said softly, watching him turn away," are you sure you're okay to go home?" She didn't want him putting himself in danger. Last thing she wanted was to wake up with news of a car accident. She'd never forgive herself for letting him leave.

She took a few steps after him, eyes catching the patch. He... He lied to her? Trista's pained expression was evident as she stared at his back confused. Why had he lied to her? Did she repulse him now? So many questions were flying through her mind. She could hear the metal of her door handle rattling as he grasped it. Trista flinched as the harsh languageeft his lips. She didnt like it. She couldn't let him go, she didnt want him to. "Kyle, please," she said taking a few steps to stand behind him," please don't go." She repeated his name again, panicking. "Please, don't," years were stinging at her eyes," don't leave me alone.

She was practically begging. She didnt want to see him get hurt. She needed to protect him, she had too. As a last result she hugged him from behind, burying her head into his back. She sucked in a sharp breath, eyes burning slightly. "Kyle," his name was muffled into the material of his jacket.

[Kyle Stockholm]

Kyle had no choice but to stay when Trista wrapped herself around his back. Sure he could've pulled away, but he couldn't do that to Trista. As much as his insides were fighting over just leaving her and forgetting her, he couldn't do it. Not after she said to not leave her alone, and not after she threw herself over him. She wanted to protect him just as much as he wanted to protect her. And no matter where his head was, no matter how clouded or troubled, this was the act of a true friend. One he couldn't let go, one he couldn't be selfish about and forget because of some silly feelings. This was a strong friendship with a strong girl that he needed.

All in an instant, Kyle's shoulders dropped and he felt himself relax. He still shook, but much less vigorously and much less noticeably. He was sure she could still feel it.. after all, she was holding him. Pressing his forehead against the door, Kyle closed his eyes and tried to slow his breathing. Deep breaths, deep breaths, and then he held it. As long as he could, he held his breath, until he absolutely had to come up for air.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered, voice still trembling as he let go of the doorknob and for a moment could fully feel her face in his back. "I shouldn't have cursed and I shouldn't have acted like I did. Its just a bad day... an off day." As much as he was telling the truth, he was still lying. Blaming it all on his disorders. Everything. He would never tell her that any of this was her (or Erik's) fault. This was all on him. He was sick, he could blame everything on his brain.

She didn't need to know, and she didn't deserve to be hurt like that.

"Can I.. can I get some water?" he asked, turning his body in her grip so that they were front to front.

[Trista Kline]

She felt guilty, awfully guilty. She shouldn’t have grabbed onto him, she should’ve let him go. She was so selfish, such a coward. She was just scared, scared if he walked out that door he’d never come back. She wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she’d been the cause of all of this. Her heart was pounding, anticipating everything that could happen. Perhaps she should just let him go now before it was too late. This wasn’t easy for her, to tell the person she loved that she was seeing someone else. No, she needed to move on. He’d done the same, so now it was her turn.

Trista felt him relax, and she sighed into his back. She hadn’t even noticed her muscles quivering slightly. She worked herself up over this that it was catching up to her. She had closed her eyes, and ears strained to hear everything. She could hear the soft thud as his forehead hit the wood of her door, and the uneven intakes of breath as he tried to steady it. She was trying to focus on him trying to take her mind off things. Her mind was a flutter of emotions, guilt being the most predominant.

Kyle shouldn’t be apologizing for anything. This had been all her fault. “Please don’t apologize,” she said, face still in his back. She hadn’t let go, even after he relaxed. She was still so scared. She was so fragile, she couldn’t afford to lose him. She had Erik, but she’d be lost without Kyle. He meant more to her than the world. “If anything happened to you, I… I,” she didn’t know what she was trying to say. Words just fell out of her mouth without a thought. If anything happened to him, she didn’t know if she’d be able to function.

He shifted and she found her face in his chest. She could hear his heart, his lovely heart. It took a moment but she finally separated herself from his chest. She didn’t want to, but she knew that hug was from than just her being s friend, to her at least. This was what she was. A friend. “Yes, I’ll get it for you,” she said taking another step away and pointed to the corner,” you can have a seat on the bed.” He could’ve sat anywhere he wanted, but the bed just seemed like the comfiest option. She wanted him to be comfortable. She walked over to the mini fridge and knelt down to grab two bottles of water, both from him.

[Kyle Stockholm]

Kyle's arms drew away when she did, as if to follow her leaving form. He felt so horrible for doing this to her.. he could tell by the way she talked, walked and breathed that she was blaming herself. She blamed herself for everything. Anything that happened to him.. she blamed herself. Nothing was her fault. Everything was only the fault of his own brain. And honestly, he'd gotten used to that. But he couldn't handle the fact that she blamed herself. That hurt. He hurt for her.

When she crouched to the fridge, Kyle moved towards the bed where she told him he could sit. He took a moment to observe it, trying his best to pick the right way to put himself upon it. He didn't want to ruin anything else. He'd already ruined so much.. and the sheets seemed like the smallest thing he could keep neat, right. Running his hands gently over the linens, Kyle turned and took a seat. He sat properly, hands folded over his thighs and feet on the ground. He didn't want to ruin it, couldn't let himself ruin it. Don't ruin it.

When Trista came back with the water, he looked up and smiled softly. He had calmed greatly, but his hands still shook as he reached for one of the waters. "I'm sorry," he said, taking the bottle in his hand. It was cold, and it was relaxing.

(i'm sorry this is crazy all over the place.. there are a lot of people around me talking and distracting me)

[Trista Kline]

Trista paused in front of the fridge taking a moment to collect her thoughts. The water bottles in her hand were cold, and it jolted her from the clouding thoughts. Whatever he wanted, she’d give him. She wanted him to be okay, to be safe. She wanted to make him feel the same comfort he brought to her. She finally stood and turned making her way over to him. She could still see his hands shaking and she frowned. She wanted to hold him until the shakes left, until he could dream peacefully.

She set one of the bottles of water on the nightstand, and with some leverage she opened the other bottle for him before lightly screwing the cap back on. His smile was soft, but it wasn’t the same smile she knew he was capable of. He was visibly better, still a little jittery, but an improvement none the less. Not letting him leave at been the right choice all along. Trista didn’t want to know what might’ve happened if she let him walk out that door. She cared too much to let him get into situations where he might get hurt.

“Kyle, you don’t have to apologize,” she reassured him softly. With him, she could speak freely. She didn’t stumble over her words like a fool. For a moment things seemed like normal. Sure there was an ache in her heart from his current condition, but when he was near everything was right. He had stayed, for her or other reasons, he had stayed. “You can talk to me,” she said, placing a hand softly on his free hand. Contact with him always eased her nerves, and it had really become reflex when she was concerned.

Trista wasn’t a hundred percent convinced that everything was okay. “What’s wrong?” she asked, green eyes searching for anything. Were things not okay at home? Had something happened with Rory? She hoped not, and she was getting herself worked up again. She just knew something wasn’t right. “Please, talk to me.” She didn’t want a mask. Whenever he put it on, it broke her heart.

[Kyle Stockholm]

"I'm just.. I'm just so confused, y'know?" he practically squeaked, damn near forcing himself to speak to her. "I'm confused with myself, with you, with everything. I'm just so confused.." Dropping his head, Kyle noted how he'd started to squeeze the water bottle and quickly loosened his grip. Unscrewing the cap, he brought the water to his mouth and took a small sip. It was refreshing, to say the least, and the cold feeling of it in his throat was helpful. He'd worked up quite a bit of heat.. it was nice to cool down.

"I dunno where I am, Tris," he said a bit later, looking back up at her again. "I dunno where my head is or what's wrong with me. Ever since.. ever since we were in the forest.. I just get this feeling in my stomach when I see you. This.. feeling. And it hurts but it doesn't at the same time. And I know I have Rachel but I want... I want..."

What did he want? He didn't know.. he had no idea. When he said he was confused, he meant it. Kyle didn't understand where his head was and what it was doing to him. He had Rachel! He was happy with her! Wasn't he..?

Then an idea struck. An idea that could very well get him slapped across the face if he went about it wrong. Slapped by Trista, slapped by Rachel.. slapped by his conscience. But he had to try. His heart told him it was what was right, it was the solution. Or at least, it would bring the solution. Setting his water bottle on the floor, Kyle pulled his feet onto the bed and maneuvered himself so that he was kneeling. Hands on his thighs, he looked at Trista as if inspecting her. He ran his yes over her face, tracking the way her temples moved when she swallowed or how her cheeks thinned when she breathed. Then, with one quick movement, Kyle brought himself forward and placed his hands on her face like he had in the forest. Bringing his lips to hers, he almost perfectly recreated the kiss. Except, if anything was different, he deepened it. He put his hand through her hair, turned his face just enough and ran another hand down her arm, eventually landing on her waist.

He would give anything to understand.

Anything to know what this feeling was, know why it was there and know if maybe she felt something too. Maybe he wasn't alone, and maybe this was it. This was it. Maybe this was what kept him up at night, maybe this was why he pictured her when he kissed Rachel. Maybe this was the answer to everything. He just wanted to know, to understand.

With one hand on her waist, Kyle reached to pull her forward. He'd relaxed his legs into a cross-legged position and coaxed her into his lap, guiding her legs back around his waist. Dropping the kiss for a moment as his hands laced behind her back, he said, "all you have to say is stop" before kissing her again. The kiss felt right, there was no question in that. To Kyle, this felt right. It was perfect. He just needed to know from her. He just needed a sign.

[Trista Kline]

Trista only became more concerned as he rambled on. Confused? Why was he confused about anything? He looked so lost, like a boy trying to understand the terrifying world. “It’ll all be okay,” she reassured him. She wanted to answer all of his questions, make the world less freighting. She froze in her place when he mentioned the forest. She had almost convinced herself that what happened in the forest wasn’t real. Yet here he was confirming. Did he know that when she saw him it hurt, because he belonged to someone else?

It wasn’t until Kyle sat up that Trista realized how close they were. She was examining her, or so she thought. Under his eye though, she didn’t feel judged. Her flaws were nonexistent except to herself. In his mere presence, she felt human. With him this close, all she could think about was the night in the forest. Things had been perfect, he was perfect. His hands had been so gentle, his lips so soft. She spiritually gave herself to him, emotionally he owned her. She was pliable under his touch, under his gaze.

When he leaned forward, the breath caught in her lungs. “Kyle…?” his name had been spoken out of reflex, more than anything else. Everything, all of his movements, were just like the forest. Her eyes widened slightly when his hands found her face. His hands were very warm, comfortably so. She found herself leaning into his face, longing for their contact for some time. When his lips made contact with hers, she was more than ready to meet him. The kiss was deeper, every and any thought of Erik was suddenly gone, like he never existed. Kyle was surrounding her, filling her senses.

Goosebumps appeared on her skin wherever his fingers touched. It was suddenly very hot in the room, very. She couldn’t think of anything but the boy in front of her. Their lips melded together, something so perfect; she didn’t think it was possible. She wondered if this was all a dream, too good to be true. Kyle had plagued her dreams for weeks, ever since the forest night. She was gripping the front of his jacket as she leaned into him.

Trista’s eyes had long slipped shut and let Kyle guide. She liked the way his hand rested on her hip, something he’d never done before. She was like putty in his grip and did whatever he wished. She eased into his lap easily without ever breaking the kiss. She had kicked her shoes off in the process, body thankful for at least one article of clothing to alleviate the heat. She was kissing back, savoring the way his lips felt once more. This was what she wanted, more than anything. She’d been dreaming of this, begging for this.

She was placed perfectly in his lap, like a puzzle with her legs around him. Her arms had snaked around his neck, with a hand finding his hair. Trista was in pure bliss, heart too happy for words. When he pulled away, she panted softly, looking at him with half-lidded eyes. She could feel his hands find her back. She felt like she was burning up, skin on fire from just Kyle alone. All she had to say was stop. She looked at him for a second, and no words were spoken. A hand had returned to gripping his sweatshirt pulling down slightly where the zipper audibly opened the material.

She didn’t want this to stop, she needed this. She’d felt emotionally damaged for weeks. Their lips were together once more, and green eyes slipped shut again. She was speaking through her actions, weeks of heartache to hold the one now in her arms. She had missed him so much.She didn't care about anything. All the mattered was Kyle. He was all she needed.

[Kyle Stockholm]

Feeling the tug at his sweatshirt, Kyle let his hands fall from her back for a moment and brought them forward to his own chest where he unzipped the hoodie and let it slip down his arms. In the heat of the moment, he also pulled his tank up over his head and let it fall back to the bed behind him. From there, he put his hands around her back again, but instead of lacing his fingers, gripped at the bottom of her shirt. Something at the back of his mind told him to leave it, though, so he only trailed his fingers up and under the fabric, his fingertips meeting the soft skin of her lower back. Readjusting, Kyle pulled her closer still until they were literally chest to chest. Her head was slightly above his and his neck was craned back, lips lost in hers as if they were one.

At first, his brain had been so lost. He was still so confused and as he kissed her, he questioned himself. He'd been thinking about Rachel, about their relationship. He thought about how he'd never kissed her like this. They'd been passionate, but not like this. This was different. It may not have looked different, but it felt different. This felt real, and this felt right. This was where he wanted to be. And when he realized that, his brain went blank. There were no more doubts and no more questions, only bliss. Pure bliss as soft as the sky as he took in her scent, her touch, her presence. As his hands wandered, all he could think was how soft her lips felt against his. They were no different than what they'd been in the forest. Just as perfect, just as gentle, but just as powerful and beautiful. He didn't even realize when his hands had moved up her back, taking her shirt up along with them. For a moment, he felt her arms leave his neck, but they returned and her shirt dropped from his grip to the bed. Warm hands quickly found their way to their previous spot on her lower back, only dipping lower.

"Is that fine?" he asked, breaking their kiss for no more than a second. He barely even waited for an answer, he was so caught in the moment. Everything felt right, everything felt like it was supposed to.

Was it love?

[Trista Kline]

Trista was floating on cloud nine. It was quiet in her mind. It had been weeks since the demons calmed themselves. Kyle always had this affect on her, to render her senseless but to have clarity all at the same time. She could relax emotionally against him and feel strong. He had the ability to make her feel whole, feel human. Her lips only left his long enough for his sweatshirt and tank top to be removed. Her own hands helping him in a frenzy. She didn't know what she was doing, hands moving on her own.

Hands explored his chest for a brief moment, skin soft under her hands. Hands memorized the muscles beneath the skin, how strong it felt. She let out a soft a gasp as he pulled her closer, but there was no objection. One hand was cupping the side of his face while the other was wrapped around his neck, her hand exploring the lovely muscles in his back. She had always visioned what he looked like free from clothes, but this was more than she'd expected. He was beautiful, perfect in every way. She wanted to memorize his body, every feature there was. He was a treasure, and the way his lips felt against hers only spurred her forward.

Trista had no idea what she was doing. Her intincts were the only thing keeping her together. She didnt want this to end, never. In the forest, the kiss had been soft and gentle. Now, it was all that and more. It was passionate, setting her bones on fire. A shiver ran down her spine as his fingers made contact with the skin on her back. She was arching into his touch, anything to get closer. When the material of her sweater started to rise she lifted her arms and gladly let him discard the article of clothing. She sighed against him, skin coming into contact with his. She felt so alive, so right. She'd never done anything like this. As always, Kyle brought things out in her that she didn't know existed.

Everywhere his hands landed her skin was on fire with electric sensations. "Perfect," she breathed, but the end of the word was cut off as their lips met again. This. This was what she wanted, needed. Her hips rocked forward slightly on their own acord, trying to be closer to him. She was in love with him. Madly and blindly in love with him. Erik. Suddenly that boy had resurfaced in her mind and the realization she was still in love. "Kyle," she said breathlessly between kisses.

She wanted to continue, never stop. But now that she'd remembered the other boy she didn't know if she could do with a clear conscience. It wasn't fair to him, to either of them. She knew she could easily push Erik to the back of her mind once more if Kyle willed it, but she wouldn't be able to look Erik the eye. "Kyle, wait," she said pulling her lips away from him to pant softly with her forehead resting against his. "You're dating Rachel..." She said softly, pulling her head back to look into his eyes unsure of everything. She let her head fall to his shoulder with her face resting in the crook of his neck. Her lips were resting softly against the skin, such beautiful skin.  "I'm dating Erik," it came out more like a question, now unsure. 

Her arms were still wrapped around his neck, skin against skin. This was cheating. They both had betrayed the people that trusted them, cared for them. "Is this right?" She asked, mostly to herself. She wanted Kyle, she loved him. She wanted nothing more than to continue on like nothing else mattered, but things did. It was a moral situation, and she was torn between love and duty.