I let out a groan that was muffled by the low rumbling of thunder.
I jolted up, looking out my ceiling to floor length windows as lightening lit up the sky.
And when there’s lightening, thunder always follows.
But I was too scared to move. My feet wouldn’t listen to me. I wanted to dive back into my bed and hide under my blankets like how I always do every time had to deal with thunderstorms by myself, but this time was different.

No matter how many times I told myself to move, my legs weren’t processing anything.

I curled up into a ball on the couch, squeezing my eyes shut and putting my hands over my ears as if that was going to block out the loud clap of thunder that shook the apartment.
Flashes of my dad hitting me, yelling at my mom appeared in front of my eyes.

And unconsciously, I screamed.
The tears that I was trying so hard to hold back finally spilled onto my face as I curled up into a ball.
But no matter how many times I repeated to myself that it was all in my head, that he wasn't actually here, my body wouldn't listen.
The ghosts of his slaps, his hair pulling, his foul words lingered on my body and in the air each time the thunder roared outside.

I could faintly hear the door open.
Using what little energy I still had left in me, I pulled myself off of the couch and started walking back to my room.
But I was too slow and Mark had already saw me.

"________________?" I heard the rustling of his plastic bag being set on the coffee table, "What's wrong? Why are you crying?"
I wiped the last few tears on my face with my sleeve before turning around.
"What're you talking about? I wasn't crying."
"Your eyes are red."
"My eyes always get like that when I'm really tired," I lied, finding myself bending my head further down.
"You sound congested."
"I have allergies. It's ok, it'll be better by tomorrow morning."
"No it's not ok."

I looked up as one of Mark's hands found my hand and the other one found my chin. He lifted my head up until our eyes met.
"Why would it be ok for you to cry by yourself?" he seemed to inch a little closer, but I couldn't really tell. My mind right now was a complete white blank and my heart was racing.
"I told you," I broke out of his hold and turned around, taking a couple shaky steps towards my room, "I'm fine. I wasn't crying."
He caught up to me in a couple of steps, pulling my arm so I pivoted around. "Don't lie to me _______________. I've known you for 20 years, and I've seen what you look like when you have your allergies. This is not it."

Screw it.
I'm so done with hiding everything.
I'm so done with pretending to be ok all the time in front of him.

"If you knew me that well then you would've known not to leave!" I screamed over the thunder, feeling the pain claw all over my body.
"What're you..." he looked at me first before looking out the window, just as another flash of lightening lit up the sky. In that moment, I watched as his look of confusion melted away into a look of concern. "Oh my gosh ______________. I am so sorry. I totally forgot about everything. I'm such a bad human being. I shouldn't have left you. The toothbrush could've waited until the storm passed."

I swear, I think by now I've probably cried out 50% of the water in my body.
That's not even counting the amount of snot that was coming out of my nose right now.
I hated crying. Not just because my entire face melts off in a puddle of tears and nose juice, but because crying was something that I did so much of back when my dad was still terrorizing my life. Crying wasn't gonna get me anywhere; it wasn't going to solve anything. That was what I told myself as I grew up and started to forget all the bad memories.

But apparently, I don't really listen to myself.

"Stupid," I mumbled, wiping my nose on the back of my sleeve for the umpteenth time. Yup. Definitely washing this sweatshirt tonight. And why was I even saying stupid? What was I saying stupid to? Myself for crying or Mark for forgetting?
"Are you ok though?" Mark's hand landed on my shoulder, forcing me to turn around.

I was about to nod but apparently Mother Nature had other plans.
As lightening flashed across the sky, the thunder clap that accompanied it was so loud that it literally shook the apartment. 
And the power lines.

One second Mark's puppy dog eyes were right in front of me and the next, they were gone.
But that didn't stop me from launching myself into his arms.
I couldn't even say anything. I just stayed there, burying myself into his chest as the fear paralyzed me once again.
But this time, the ghosts of my dad's physical abuse were replaced with gentle hands pulling me into a tight hug, protectively wrapping themselves around me.

"It's ok," Mark's voice whispered into my ear, "It's alright. He's not here, and I'm not gonna hurt you."
His hands started rubbing my back, exactly how my mom used to back when I was a little girl, causing the fear to slowly start to fade away.
"Did my mom teach you that?" I spoke into his chest. He was so incredibly warm and everything about being near him just felt right. I felt his body shake a little as he laughed, "No. But I remember your mom doing this to you one time after your dad yelled at you for spilling grape juice all over the kitchen floor. I don't really know how I remembered that but I guess I'm glad that I did."
"You guess?"
"Shhhhh...I said nothing," he mumbled into my hair. I could feel his lips touching the top of my head. The contact sent shivers down my spine.
"Are you cold?" He asked, pulling me in closer before I could even answer him. I might as well let him keep assuming. Doesn't hurt. But I didn't want to make him feel obligated to hug me out of pity or just cause I was a little chilly.
"I'm fine. Thanks for uhhhh...the hug," I replied, trying to pull away from him but his arms kept me locked in. "Mark? You can let go now."
"I know," he moved one of his hands to the top of my head and leaned me deeper into him, "but-"

Before he could finish his sentence, the lights flickered back on.
I looked up right as he looked down and our eyes locked again.
Except this time, there wasn't any awkwardness.
There wasn't any misunderstandings.

But there was also realization...at physically close we actually were to each other.

I jumped back, hoping he didn't see my red cheeks before I could cool them down from unflattering red to "putting on too much blush" red. Behind me, Mark had already started to walk back to his room. I followed his example and shuffled my way back to my own room.
"Wait," I turned in my door frame. His door stopped closing and he poked his head through the opening that was still there.
"Hmm?"
"What were you gonna say before?"
"What'd you mean?"
"You know," I gestured at the spot we were just sitting at, "when I told you that I was fine. You were gonna say something but the lights came back on."
"Oh," Even though his door was covering half of his face, I could tell he was smiling behind it. "You'll find out eventually."

Author's Note
chapter title: Hug Me Once-Girl's Day [x]
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