Song Rec'd: Escapism (cover) — The Miji
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I pull him inside the house and lock the door, leading him to the bedroom after we've taken off our shoes. I just want him to sleep and forget about all of this.
I finally piece it together: he has panic attacks when there are flames or barbecues. I'd lean toward the flames. It makes sense that he'd prefer using hot plates at home, especially after almost firing a guard for smoking on the job. I completely support that; I can't have Reese around those kinds of people.
He says nothing but follows me without hesitation as I adjust the sheets on the bed—almost ruined from our earlier escapades—and fluff the pillows against the headboard. I sit down with my legs on the bed and my back against the pillows.
I motion for him to come closer, and in no time, he's lying on my chest, breathing steadily as I hug him, kissing the top of his head and resting my chin on it.
"Do you think I'm pathetic?" he murmurs.
