1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9...10

After about 40 seconds of holding her breathe, little air bubbles started to reach the surface of the filled bathtub, as Marisol remained submerged under water. What had started out as a way to relax, had turned into her trying to drown out the sounds around her—with them her damaging thoughts. The day had taken an interesting turn when she came home to find the apartment empty. It wasn’t as if it wasn’t normally empty—she was now living alone and didn’t normally have people over unless it was a Saturday, but the emptiness she found now wasn’t the physical one, but the emotional one. She felt alone.

                She sighed to herself, thinking these days were behind her—she hadn’t felt like this since she was living back in her parent’s house right after graduating. Not even sure what had started off these feelings, she set her bag down along with her coat, and taking her shoes off, she settled into the couch, curling up into a ball, and holding herself. Tears started to form at the ends of her eyes as she lay there silently in frustration because, goddammit I was supposed to be better. Why did today have to be like this? Work had been fine—she hadn’t thought of anything except coming home, taking a bath and then maybe calling up her friends Tiffany and Deserae to have some kind of dinner date—and maybe after that she’d telephone Leo to coerce him into comforting her from her long and tiring day at work. But now here she was instead, feeling sorry for herself and wondering how she managed to return to such a fragile emotional state—I hadn’t thought about it in months.  I was doing better goddamit!

                Getting up from the couch abruptly, she huffed to herself as she decided not to let these emotions and hurtful thoughts take over!  I have a job, my own apartment, my loving family, my caring friends, my caring boyfriend, and I have a lot going for me! I’m not going to let someone—something—from my past ruin this. She repeated those thoughts in her head for a while—something she had picked up from her parents, when they were helping her move forward and supporting her by giving her the care she needed. Though at the time it wasn’t what she wanted to hear, she realized that it was what she needed—reassurance that she had a stable life and more importantly, stable relationships. After the fifth repetition, she started to feel a bit more secure, and with that, made the decision to take a much needed bath—to relax from a hard days’ work and to stop thinking so much.

                It was about five minutes in that her thoughts started to get the better of her and anxiety began to kick in. She closed her eyes, breathing in and out slowly, trying to calm down, but it seemed as if someone had taken the volume knob of her life and turned it all the way up—making the sound of the neighbor coming home and parking their car sound like an explosion. Suddenly everything around her was loud and vibrating—the cat outside, the barking dog from three places down, the fridge buzzing, the keys in the door, the door closing. In a final attempt to block out all the sounds and calm herself and her mind, she plunged herself into the water, holding onto the edges of the tub, her feet propped up on the other end. And she counted…1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9...10

                40 seconds in and her lungs were starting to falter—a combination of fear and anxiety not letting her focus. Unknowingly letting her fear take over, she snapped her eyes open—something she never did since she was never able to get used to the feeling of open eyes under water. As soon as her eyes opened, she was able to make out a figure standing over the tub—dark pants, a white shirt, dark hair, and light skin. Taking a few seconds more to focus on her newfound silence underwater, she let out a small breathe, bubbles reaching for the surface once again, before propping herself upward and resurfacing herself.

                She took deep breathes as she sat up, knees coming up to her chest, while her hands still gripped the edge of the tub. There were still a few bubbles left which managed to surround her, gathering around the space between her knees, and drifting from all other spaces in the tub, revealing how large it actually was. One of the main factors in Marisol choosing this apartment had been the bathtub—and old style bathtub, deep, white with silver legs holding it up. There was also a shower in the room, meaning the tub was solely for the purpose of baths—and it was perfect for them. And now here she was, using it to its full extent and she continued to breathe in and out, regulating her breaths until they came at a more normal pace, indicating that she was calming down.

                The figure she had seen standing over the tub was still there—a young man in his twenties, about six foot, fair skin with dark hair, and even darker eyes that pierced right through you. He looked at her while her gaze remained straight in front of her—he’d known something was wrong, he could tell by the way she had been answering his texts that day—distant and short. At first he’d thought she was mad him, but he knew her well enough to know that if she was mad, he’d be the first to know and she’d tell him in the most straight forward manner possible. This wasn’t her being mad—this was something else. Reaching down to the tub, he sat himself down on the edge, turning slightly so that he was somewhat sideways and still able to look at Marisol’s face. Noticing that her gaze hadn’t shifted since she emerged from the bottom of the tub, he reached out with his right hand and gently placed it under her chin, tilting it forward so that she would look at him.

                Her gaze followed his movements, and Marisol found herself looking into his face, smiling slightly when she saw the concern on his face.

                “Leo. What are you doing here?” She asked softly, hands still gripping tightly onto the edge of the tub, body still tense from fear and anxiety.

                “I came to see you.” He sighed. If he was being honest with himself, he’d never seen her like this before. He was scared. “Should I have come earlier?” Marisol smiled a little and shook her head, pulling away from his hand and looking downward.

                “I’m okay. Just…had a little relapse is all. I’m sorry.” She apologized, finally moving her arms to wrap them around her knees and she pulled them closer to herself. In a soft and almost inaudible whisper she told him, “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

                A few tears managed to slip out as Marisol became more and more aware of the situation. She had relapsed and here was Leo to witness it all. Dammit. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not being able to handle the sight of Marisol like this, Leo slowly stood, taking his socks off before he stepped into the tub behind Marisol, sitting down with his legs on either side of her.

                “What are you doing?” Marisol asked, bewildered—he was still fully clothed.

                Not answering, Leo simply reached his arms out to Marisol’s waist, taking a hold of her before pulling her back toward his chest, and fully wrapping his arms around her—one over her shoulders and across her chest, the other around her waist. Sighing, Marisol leaned back into him, allowing herself to enjoy being held by someone other than herself. “I’m sorry.” She repeated.

                “Don’t be.” Leo whispered. Not really a man of many words, he knew he had to speak now, and say the right thing. “I know you’ve been a through a lot. And I know you haven’t told me what a lot of that is, and I don’t expect you to. But just know that I am always here for you, and you don’t ever ever need to apologize for how you feel—not to me, not to anyone. But please know, that I’m here if you need me.” He leaned forward slightly, reaching his lips to the back of her head and pressing them against her wet hair.

                Breathing in deeply one more time, Marisol turned her head to her right, looking up at him. She wanted to tell him so much—to keep apologizing. But she knew she couldn’t and she shouldn’t. Closing her eyes, she pressed herself into his neck, nuzzling lightly, hoping that her unspoken words would somehow get across through this strange lion king-like hug. Leo smiled to himself, letting out a soft sigh as he leaned downward to plant a soft kiss on her forehead, chuckling at how affectionate she’d suddenly turned, when minutes ago, she wouldn’t even look at him.

                “Damn. You jumped in here with your clothes on and everything. If that doesn’t scream caring boyfriend, I don’t know what does.” Marisol broke the silence, attempting to change the melancholic mood with her sarcastic tone.

                Chuckling lightly, Leo responded, “Well, of course. My girlfriend was sad; there was nothing else I could do!”

                “Hmm, and I’m sure the fact I’m completely didn’t have anything to do with your heroic act…” Marisol back.

                Tightening his grip around her waist, Leo let out a quiet laugh as he pulled her closer to him, “Well, that was just a plus.” He smirked down at her before leaning in to kiss her forehead again, while she laughed loudly and cheerfully. Glad to have been of some use to her, Leo bent his head down a little more, grazing his nose over hers before moving his face closer to place a soft kiss on her lips.

                “I should probably take off these wet clothes before I catch a cold.”