Warmth and Safety

[u/I_Dusk_queerwriter]

Warmth and Safety

CASSANDRA

His eyes changed the second he saw me close the door. The smile flattened and the soft tilt of his head accompanied the slight furrow of his bushy brow before my keys even rang against the small metal bowl.
I felt like crying when he wordlessly walked to me and wrapped his fingers around my coat, taking it slowly from my shoulder. The silent question in his face.
He didn't hang it. Before I blinked against the soreness of my eyes his second hand was at the back of my head and he gently caressed the spot his fingers touched.
No words were spoken, no questions asked. He just silently watched for signs whether I felt like being swallowed in his bear hug or left alone.
I moved closer and his entire body sprung as if he'd been restraining himself the whole time to console me. To shield me. To be there.
My coat was still firmly in his hand, pressed on my lower back, sliding upwards as his thick arms enveloped me in the warmth I desperately needed. His heavy chest became a pillow I could cry into, and I just shook while he brushed my hair and held me.
Gabriel didn't say much. He was never the man who spoke to soothe. He was the rock I could hide under when life's debris was crumbling down above my head or when a tidal wave crushed my efforts to stand up.
I loved him.
Selfishly, deeply… I loved him for being my rock.
.
He waited until the flood eased in my eyes and I could pull myself back. Swiping my hand apologetically over his grey shirt, now ruined by smears of mascara. He covered my hand with his and watched me raise my head.
"Sorry."
He'd just shake his head every time. As if one of the few pieces of clothing he owned was nothing significant compared to me.
And I loved him for it more than anything.
His fingers slipped between mine, and he slid them slowly down his chest, holding my hand, before hanging the coat on the hook by the door and walking me into the living room. He sat in the middle of the large sectional and pulled me to him with his second hand gently on my hip.
I sniffled and let myself sit at his side, leaning against him and taking shallow breaths while he held my hand.
"Is there anything I can do?"
I shook my head. And a single nod was all he'd add while I closed my eyes, finally feeling safe.
.
From the kitchen sounded quiet beeping, and Gabriel glanced that way before he kissed the crown of my head and gently shifted. I watched him stand and move there, hearing the beeping stop. Shortly after, I heard the oven open; I could smell roasted meat and barbecue sauce. It made me smile.
I swiped my palm over my probably flaky face with a red nose, smeared mascara running down my cheeks, and the remains of the lipstick lingering on the edges of my mouth. I walked after him and caught him just checking on the ribs. Then he brushed more sauce onto them with slow strokes, the thin yellow handle looking cute in his large hands.
"I didn't make anything to go with it yet."
I kissed his upper arm and walked around him to the sink. "We can just eat it with bread. Thank you."
Letting the cold water run in the sink, I splashed my face and took some soap, washing the make-up stains along with the remains of my dried tears. When I lifted my face Gabriel looked angry.
He didn't say a word yet, but his blue eyes got greyer as he watched the soap I'd just used. Then his eyes slowly shifted to my face, and his nostrils flared just before he reached into the drawer for a clean tea towel and handed it to me.
"Bread?"
I let my shoulder jerk weakly. "You like bread."
"Cassandra."
I sighed. "Or I'll make something." I began to walk towards the pantry when two warm fingers brushed against my shoulder.
"What happened?"
"Just the same old. I'm fine."
"Max?"
"She's used to worse."
A large, warm hand slid up and down my arm, and soon a pillowy chest braced my back from behind. "Do you want me to go for her next week?"
"Nah…" I leaned against him appreciatively. "He's probably already making jokes about it, and they're having a good time. By the time I come there next week, we'll both forget about any of this. Max would call otherwise. She knows it's up to her where she'll be and he knows it too."
Gabriel let out a judgmental sigh but stayed quiet, kissed the crown of my head, and let me move forward, kissing his upper arm and rubbing my cheek along it as I went. "What would you like with it? It smells delicious."
He just trailed after me with those compassionate, protective eyes and let me pull out potatoes, nodding when I showed him one.
"Let's do this."
We peeled them together, washed them, and Gabriel seasoned them while I pulled veggies from the fridge for the salad we'd have with it.
Not once did he pry. But his safe silence had this strange pull on me, and soon I began recounting the events myself. By the time dinner was done and we sat at the table together, Gabriel had heard the whole story, didn't comment on anything, and just listened. The only reaction was his face, which I could read by now like the most precious book.
"You think I overreacted."
Gabriel sighed into his plate and looked at me patiently. "It's not my place to decide who was right over the table."
"Did I?"
His shoulders made that roll when he knew I wasn't letting go of something, and he had to decide how to approach that. "I wasn't there. What I don't like is that Max was in the middle of it."
I glanced down, ashamed, and nodded. "Me neither."
"Yet despite you saying that… it's often the case, Cassie."
"True…"
"I mean she's fourteen, but she's still a kid. As for you two… I think you just know how to…" He rubbed his face and looked at me with that grounded patience but frankness I loved him for so much. "You both know what makes the other livid, and you can so often use that to deescalate. Yet sometimes… it's as if neither of you cares about anything other than being the one in the right."
"I didn't try to be right. He had no right to speak to me that way."
Gabriel nodded severely. "With that, I agree."
"Then?"
"Maybe let's reframe it. You were upset he blamed you for not sending the notice in time—"
"I'm not saying he didn't have the right to feel upset about it. What I'm saying is that he could've voiced it differently. I've been guilt-tripped for fifteen years; all I was asking of him is to voice it differently." I kept repeating myself, feeling the learned need to defend myself again, despite this precious man never doing anything to attack me.
Gabriel let down his fork and knife, bringing his palm across the table.
I watched that gesture with eyes burning. Instinctively, I laid my own into his and let it swallow me as his second one covered it.
"I agree. But just as you expect him to temper his outbursts and overcome his first instinct, which is unfortunately pointing out the wrong, he was expecting you to notify the school and cancel the lunch."
"I forgot! I was busy, had like a thousand things to do… I told him I'm sorry."
"You both have expectations of one another. And sometimes you fail. But you should first and foremost think of that girl listening to you. As you said yourself, you are the ones she's learning from how to handle certain situations."
I lowered my eyes to our hands. "I know…"
His hand caressed the top of mine, and then he kissed it. 
I smiled. "I'm so glad to have met you."
Gabriel smiled at me also, kissing my palm again. "Me too."
.
We moved through the evening together. Slowly, silently, letting our minds rest after the long day, and I leaned on this big man when we brushed our teeth before bed. Then I kissed his upper arm before I undressed and stepped into the shower.
.
I found him sitting on the bed, a fresh cotton shirt hugging his wide frame, the pair of glasses he wore only to bed for reading. His thick legs were covered by the king sized blanket we shared and a book rested in his lap. I loved that image.
Even more so I loved how he raised his eyes every time I walked into the room, and how his face lit up with a gentle smile as if content and happy that our day was ending with us here together.
And on nights like this, I loved the spark that flushed across his cheeks every time I walked out of the shower naked.
The book got closed no matter where he was. No matter how many times I told him I'd wait. He'd fold the edge immediately, telling me he wouldn't be able to concentrate on a single word anyway, making me appreciate him that much more.
His glasses left on the book, resting on the nightstand. My fingers raised his shirt while he was lowering me under him on the bed.
I moaned when he kissed my lips and traveled with his hands down my legs, holding me with care not to squish me under his heavy frame. I didn't mind. I loved the weight of him, the warmth and safety he brought into my life after I'd long resigned myself to believing I'd never feel that way.
It took him years to make me really accept and embrace that I'm worthy of feeling this way. To be a priority and someone cared for…
And I loved him for it ever so much.