Embrace: A Transcendence Short

Free-Jones Apartment

New York City

United States of America

July 21xx

“You don’t have to do this.”

They remained in bed; Elena comfortably sitting while Ansel lay in her lap. She ran her fingers through the curls of his hair, gently tugging and wrapping her fingers around them. It was what Ansel liked; he liked having her play with his hair. If anything, it was soothing. Almost too soothing—he almost forgot to respond to what she had just said.

“I know. I know I don’t have to. But I want you to know.” His eyes met hers and the corner of his mouth lifted in an attempt to smile. “You deserve to know, Lena. I don’t want to hide from you anymore.” She pursed her lips.

“Only if you’re sure,” she eventually agreed. Ansel moved, adjusting himself into a position more comfortable for both of them. His head rested against her stomach and her other hand lightly stroked his side in comfort. “Where do you want to start?”

“With how it feels. How it feels for me, at least. It affects everyone differently.” She nodded, “…have you ever gone swimming by the ocean?”

“I have, with my family and Amelia. It was a long time ago,” Elena frowned slightly, “but I can still remember.”

“How strong were the waves?”

“The waves?” she thought back. To Elena, it was mostly a blur. She had gone with her family and her older sister back when she was a high school sophomore. Elena remembered being hesitant to wade despite Amelia’s encouragements; she was never the best swimmer. The waves, she remembered—“They have a tendency to pull you in if you’re not careful,” she said. “Something to do with the tide. It was fun being dragged back so as long as the tide would carry you back.”

Ansel nodded. “But you weren’t dragged too far away?”

“Never, come to think of it.” she looked at him, “…is that how it feels for you?”

“Close enough.” The ghost of a smile, a tired one. “But instead of being dragged across, it feels like being dragged underneath the surface.”

“Underneath the surface,” Elena repeated slowly. She stopped stroking his hair, “like you’re being made to drown or something?”

“Exactly.” He closed his eyes. “It feels like drowning.”

She remained quiet. Ansel did too, and they remained that way for a few moments before he gained the courage to speak once more. “For the first few years, it felt normal. It felt like a normal thing, to be down almost all days of the week, to be lethargic and unwilling to do anything. But eventually I learned that it wasn’t normal, not at all.”

“…when did you learn?”

“Third year of high school. It was finals week and—and it all fell to shit,” he managed a laugh. Elena watched, “You learn that it’s not normal when you break down in front of your friends, your classmates. That it’s not just me overreacting because of nerves or whatever shit my classmates threw. I don’t want to talk about it in detail, but…it was bad. Worse than when you saw me in the office.”

“Because of finals?”

“More than finals. The waves—they pull you in, drag you deep, deep down. When they’ve got you at a good area, they just keep you there. It becomes hard to see the others beyond the surface. It’s hard to see them reaching out. And when you want to reach out yourself, grab someone’s hand, the water’s too heavy. Finals week was me reaching my boiling point.”

“How did it feel?” she asked softly. He almost flinched.

“Like a rubber band that stretched too much.”

“Oh.” He nudged her hand and she quickly started to work on stroking his hair, feeling his face. It helped ebb the pain away, but only slightly. “Still okay?”

“…I think so.” He exhaled, “Yeah.”

“We can stop talking about it if you want—” he quietly held up a hand, and she stopped her sentence. “Ansel…”

“Please. I want you to know.” She gave a concerned look and was about to protest once more, but he pushed himself up, turning towards her and resting his hands on her shoulders. “I want to stop hiding,” he admitted. “I want to stop being ashamed of it. You – and maybe the others – they deserve to know, too.”

Eventually, finally, she nodded. “Okay. Let’s keep talking.”

* * * * *

They talked and talked, Ansel revealing more about himself until his throat felt dry, achy. The two ended up sprawled on the bed, he lying in her lap again with her fingers running and combing through his hair. As he talked, he felt familiar stabs to the chest, familiar pangs of worry that whispered things like how she wouldn’t believe him, things like she’d leave him quicker than ever.

But each time they made his words stammer and jump, turn uneasy, she would shoot him a gentle look and nudge him. Continue, her actions told him.

And he did.

Eventually, Ansel stopped talking, eyes half-open. Elena wasn’t as sleepy, though was willing to at least tuck him in and let him have the sleep he needed. As she attempted to gently push him off her lap, he clung to her and muttered something under his breath. “You need to rest.”

“…what time is it?”

“It’s late. Probably getting close to one in the morning.” Ansel kept clinging until she stopped. “Why?”

“You’re going to work or do some layout in advance,” he yawned, “I know you. Can you just…sleep with me, please?”

She couldn’t help it. Elena laughed quietly, tweaking his nose in defeat. “Alright. Just let me move and then we can get settled, okay?” he made a small noise but relented, the two of them eventually settling into bed with Elena resting her head on his chest. She hummed lowly; he had his arms around her and his mouth pressed to the top of her head in a permanent kiss.

Minutes passed. Elena was convinced that he was asleep by then until he spoke up in the darkness of the room. “…Lena?”

“Mm?”

“Thank you for listening.” He kept his eyes closed, “For…staying.”

“You know I always will,” she began, but felt him shake his head.

“Not many people do.” He tightened his grip on her the slightest bit, “But you…you’re still here.”

“And I’ll always be here.” She made herself comfortable wrapped in his arms and head on his chest, and closed her eyes as well. “I can promise you that.” Ansel went quiet, continuing to hold her close. “I know that stuff happened back when you were in high school, but…things are different now.” Ansel removed his lips from her head and she looked up at him, “You’re with better people and you’re in a better place. Okay?”

He nodded slowly and she pressed her lips against his. “I love you,” he murmured against her lips, pressing her tighter to him.

Elena felt herself smile. “I love you too.”