I'd never felt like this before. I wasn't sure why I felt like this now.

~⊰⊱~

I had finished my ice cream cone, much to Namjoons relief, but neither one of us seemed to be in a hurry to head back to my apartment.

We sat on the bench we had occupied, watching people walk by, or bike along the path, and for several minutes, we were both silent.

I finally spoke, worried that with the silence, I would become more relaxed than I wanted, and maybe doze off. I did NOT want that to happen.

"So, what made you decide that I don't sleep well? Is it the giant dark circles under my eyes, or my constant zoned out expression while I'm working?" I asked, trying to look serious.

Joon smiled.

"Both of those are definite giveaways, but it wasn't either of them."

I tilted my head, quirking a brow at him, very curious now how he came to the conclusion that I don't sleep.

"So what was it then?"

He shrugged, watching a couple walking by holding hands.

"I could just tell. Plus, it's a known fact that most people that take jobs working third shift do it because they either can't sleep, or because they have a partner or spouse that they no longer enjoy sleeping next to, and it's an easy out without needing an explanation."

I furrowed my brows, my lips curving down in a frown, wondering where he was coming up with this malarkey.

"What the heck are you talking about? I've never heard tell of such a thing."

He looked at me seriously, but I could see the glint of mischief in is eyes.

"Really?"

"Stop it Joon, I know you're making that up."

He giggled, and I punched him on the shoulder. I couldn't help laughing though. He almost had me.

"Seriously though, I'm curious. How could you tell?"

He took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly through pursed lips.

"I couldn't tell right away. Like I said, when you were new to the job, I assumed it was just you not being used to third shift. But after a year went by, and nothing changed, I knew it had nothing to do with third shift."

"How?"

"You seem troubled, Mal. I can't tell you how many times I'd look over to get your attention, and you'd be a million miles away. That, and as many times as I've tried to get you to join me to do something fun, and you would turn me down every time. For five years, you've turned me down."

He turned to look at me, a smile deepening his dimples as his eyes almost disappeared into crescents.

"At first, I thought you really must not like me much. But whenever we would hang out during lunch hour and talk, I didn't get that vibe at all. So I started wondering what other reasons you might have for always turning me down."

I pulled my lower lip between my teeth. I never knew he was analyzing me, and I didn't know how I felt about it.

"I don't know, honestly, it was just a feeling I had. I'm usually pretty good when it comes to what my gut tells me."

I nodded, chewing on my lip.

He observed me for a moment, maybe waiting for me to speak. But I couldn't. I had no idea what to say at this point, so I just looked off into the distance and continued worrying my lip.

"Something traumatic happened to you, didn't it?" He asked quietly.

I turned my head to meet his eyes, and they were filled with curiosity, but more than that, I saw kindness, understanding, patience.

He wanted to know, but he wouldn't push, I knew that.

Part of me really wanted to tell him. I felt like telling him might be just what I needed. But I didn't want him to pity me, and that was what made me hesitate.

"It's okay Mal, I understand if you aren't willing to talk about it. I was just hoping to be able to help by listening."

I broke eye contact, looking out into the people that were walking around the park, wishing I were braver.

I was afraid to talk about it. Afraid to feel like I was allowing it to exist even when I was awake. But maybe I had to be brave. Maybe being brave was the first step in getting rid of these nightmares once and for all.

I'd known Namjoon for five years, and I trusted him, so I don't know why I assumed he would pity me, but I think it's natural to feel that way when you're about to open up about something so personal, something that makes you feel so small and inadequate.

Something that makes you pity yourself.

I took a calming breath, then I spoke the words I dreaded saying out loud.

"My house caught fire a few days after I turned 12. My parents both died in the fire, and I sometimes feel like it should have been me."

I could feel the tears building in my eyes, but I blinked them away. Namjoon was silent, and I could only think that he'd been shocked by what I'd said, and was at a loss for words. That, or afraid to say anything, for fear that I would stop talking.

"My dad carried me out of the house, and then he went back in for my mom. They never made it out. I watched my house burn down, with my parents inside it."

Namjoon reached for my hand, curling his fingers around mine gently, giving them a soft squeeze.

It gave me a bit of courage to continue.

"Now, whenever I close my eyes, I have terrible nightmares. I'm trapped in a fire, and it's getting closer and closer, and I have no way out. There's always a point where I see my parents faces, but then they melt away into the flames, and it's just me, terrified, knowing I'm going to die."

"But you don't. You wake up, every time, right?" Namjoon asked gently.

I nod.

"I do. And I know it's a nightmare. But it's still terrifying, it still scares me, and I hate falling asleep, because I don't want to live it again."

Joon gazed at me for a moment, waiting until my eyes met his again.

"Mallory, have you ever talked to anyone about this?"

I shook my head, my vision blurring as my eyes brimmed with tears.

"Why?" He whispered.

What did I say? I knew, but I didn't. It was silly, but it felt very real to me. No one else would understand. They would think I was crazy.

But Namjoon was my friend. My best friend. He'd already listened to me without judging.

Maybe I was overreacting anyway.

I swallowed, trying to figure out where to start.

"I have been dealing with these nightmares since about a month after the fire. It isn't something that happens every now and again. I don't have a nightmare once or twice a week. It happens every time I fall asleep. Every. Single. Time."

I stopped, closing my eyes and trying to block out the scene that was playing out in my mind, the one where I stood in the street at 12 years old, and watched my house burn down, knowing my parents were inside, and wondering why they weren't coming out. Watching as the roof collapsed in on the house, and still wondering where they were, not willing to accept that they weren't going to come out.

"I guess, maybe, somewhere in the back of my mind, I know that talking to someone could help. But the last thing I want to do is talk about something that haunts me every time I close my eyes and let myself relax. I just want it to go away, I don't want to talk about it during the only time that it leaves me alone. When I'm awake, I don't want to think about it at all, I don't want to remember it, I don't want it anywhere near me. I just want it to stay away."

Namjoon nodded, squeezing my hand again.

"I get that Mal, trust me, I do. But maybe if you changed your way of thinking, you'd realize that the possibility of getting rid of it, of making it go away forever, might just be worth bringing it out in the open during those hours you try so hard to keep it away."

A small sob escaped my lips, just the thought of taking the time to talk to someone extensively about the thing I was most scared of making my chest ache, and I hated myself for showing weakness right now, in front of Namjoon.

At this very moment, I wished I'd never said anything to him, wished so much that I'd just kept it to myself, because I didn't want things to change with the only friend I had.

I felt like everything was changing. I knew it was.

But seconds later that thought melted away like an ice cube dropped on the hot pavement on a 90 degree day as Joon wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close to him, his hand moving up to the back of my head, gently urging it to his shoulder.

I don't know when I wrapped my arms around his torso, but there they were, clutching the back of his shirt as I sobbed into his shoulder, crying harder than I wanted to be, holding on to him tighter than I believed I should be.

Namjoon just held me, shushing me quietly in my ear, every so often telling me it was okay, to cry all I needed to, to let it all out because I shouldn't hold it inside.

I couldn't say if crying was helping at all, if it was making me feel any better. Maybe it was, because I felt a bit lighter as I cried tears that I had probably been holding in for years.

It could have been a few different things making me feel like something had changed in me. The crying, that certainly may be it, because without even realizing it until now, it had been something I had avoided doing, for reasons I can't even name.

The fact that Joon was holding me, comforting me, telling me it was okay, that could be it too. No one had ever done that. My grandparents hadn't, except for that night I'd had the first nightmare and my grandma had come in to check on me. After that, I cried alone for a couple days, then I just kept everything inside, and clearly, no one had ever felt the need to comfort me in such a way again.

Or maybe the fact that I somehow knew Joon was right. I think I had always known that I needed to see someone, a therapist, a person I could talk to openly without the fear of judgement. But knowing it was so didn't make it easy to do. It wasn't any less daunting.

The whole thing felt like this ginormous weight, it just encompassed me, holding me in place, and I couldn't take that first step to getting help because the weight of it made it impossible for me to move.

But with Namjoon, I actually wondered if maybe I could do it. Maybe I could take that step.

I'd need him with me, because there was no way I'd do it on my own. I needed him to at least get me there, get me to that point where I was right in front of someone who I could talk to, who could potentially help me get my life back.

God knows I wanted my life back.

I wanted normal. Somewhere in the far recesses of my mind, I think I had accepted that I would never, in my adult life, know what normal was. I owned it, because what else could I do. I knew that sleep was not my friend, would never be my friend.

But I wanted it to be, more than anything, I wanted sleep to hold me, be gentle with me, let me fall into its soft embrace and allow me to stay there without any fear.

I wanted to do things that normal people do. I wanted to go out if I felt like, and socialize. I wanted to sit on my sofa and watch a movie without the certain knowledge that I was going to fall asleep before I was even fifteen minutes into it, sleep eventually bringing with it the nightmares.

I wanted to do more than just work, and sit at home fighting to stay awake. This outing with Namjoon had shown me just what I was missing out on.

I suddenly realized that I wanted the possibility of being in a relationship. I didn't want to spend my whole life alone.

It was something I'd never thought about before. There was no place in my life for a partner, because how would anyone put up with me? I could barely put up with me.

But something about Joon's arms around me felt nice.

It felt nice to just be held, and know I could cry, and that it was okay. It felt nice to have someone to talk to, to tell everything to if I chose, or to not say anything at all. I somehow knew that it was okay, whatever I decided to do.

I knew I shouldn't have come.

Coming today had changed things, more than I ever imagined it could.