Julius Caesar - Chapter 62

Chapter 62: 62






Julius' POV.

Opening my eyes and looking around felt like being a heavy bowling ball, rolling and rolling until it collided with a million pins that came tumbling down with a loud, ringing 'ping'.

My head was on something soft and warm.

Oh. Samantha.

I sat up, my eyes wide and my heart outrageous as I squeezed my eyes shut against a strong headache. I gulped before glancing at her sleeping, head bowed down and hair covering her whole face.

I almost immediately jumped out of the tub and fell face-first to the wet floor. But I held onto the sink, wincing at the pain in my knuckles.

No thinking. Please.

No thinking. Please.

No thinking. Please.

I stared at her more in the water-filled tub and immediately lurched forward before collapsing on my shaky knees on the floor in front of her. I hesitantly pushed her head and hair back, so I could see her face. She was terribly pale, her dark eyelashes resting on her cheekbones, her slightly-parted lips were blue and her breaths were short and shaky. I leaned in her face and placed my palm on her icy forehead for no apparent reason.

She was cold. She was really cold.

So I found myself wrapping my arms around her and pulling her out of the water miraculously before I watched her hide her head in my chest. I stared at her for a long time before my legs moved by their own accord to my room where I gently placed her on my bed after I peeled off her wet clothes and pulled some of my clothes on her.

I stood over her and watched her like it was my first time ever seeing her. Ever. And it felt like my heart was going to burst.

Because something had changed in me. And it was scaring me. It was scaring me so so much. Because I couldn't ignore what that psychologist Father got said. Because it was all happening. It was all true.

She told me I was acutely depressed.

She told me scary things. She told me, Sharon- she told me I would change. She told me that that change would be 'normal'. And temporary. That I shouldn't worry as long as I was getting 'treated'.

She said that my brother's death was a great traumatic experience and that I wouldn't recover easily. She was telling me this as if I didn't know. As if I needed a reminder. She was one stupid bitch, Sharon, because psychologists don't do this. They don't hurt their patients by lying to them.

She lied to me! She told me Augustus was dead. And it was bad, Sharon. It was terrible because I got so angry. I got so unbelievably angry and almost smacked the shit out of her.

But that wasn't it, was it?

I was angry that I got angry. I was angry that my anger knew its reason.

Denial.

I was angry that I was afraid that I was in denial and that that dumb-bitch would be right. Because one shouldn't be terrified of truth, right? (You should read this at least twice.)

But she was right about everything, wasn't she?

Because when I looked down at an angelic, pale Samantha, I didn't feel anything, anything at all, Sharon. It was like I got vacuumed clean of emotion. Like nothing would ever appeal to me ever again.

And that was when I realized that my biggest fear wasn't letting her in. No. No. My fear was much more disastrous. It laid much deeper in my soul and had greater darkness to it.

I wasn't surprised as I should've been by this 'realization' when I stood above her and stared, because those were the 'symptoms' of acute depression, weren't they? To just lose interest in everything you loved?

But I wasn't having it, you see.

I cried a lot as I watched her sleep. I cried, pulled on my hair and almost witnessed myself completely lose my sanity. I wanted it all to go away.

All that. All that grief. That pang in my heart. That lump in my throat that seemed to block my breaths whenever I tried to remember what really happened. When I tried lying to myself. I wanted to believe my lie and was angry that I couldn't believe it, because out of all the intricate lies I'd forced myself to believe before, this was the most important one to believe.

That Augustus was not dead.

That he'd come to my door.

Because Sharon, it wasn't right.

It wasn't right that I wrecked the damned suite, filled in the damned tub, tried looking for an empty bottle of scotch (and couldn't find one) and sat in the cold water, waiting for him.

Because we needed to talk it out.

I needed to scold him for what he did. Needed to punch him again. Needed him to insult me. I longed for it all and it killed me.

And I was failing, wasn't I? Failing to believe. I was failing to not see his blood on my hands whenever I looked at them. I failed to forget the feeling of his body losing its heat and of his blood drying on me. I failed. I failed to say the words I should've said to him. I failed at everything, everything that could've saved him- a brother, a hug, a knife, a word.

And when I remembered, I banged my head in the wall so that it'd stop and let me breathe. Or stop and take my breath away forever. It didn't matter. No. Nothing mattered to me anymore. Not that bleeding wound on my knuckles. Not that beautiful Samantha who came here for me instead of him. Not anything. Not anything.

Most of the times I couldn't tell if I was sleeping or was awake. Couldn't tell the difference between a dreamless sleep and reality- because they were both big, big blanks. And it didn't matter either because I didn't want to think. I was content with my apathy because those were the most merciful moments in my grief.

Because my emotions were barely there. And when they came? They came in surges, tsunami waves, knocking the breath out of me.

I looked at Samantha and felt my hands shake. Why was I not feeling anything? Why wasn't I longing for her? I felt tears spill from my eyes.

What had become of me?

I didn't want to lose her too and that was all I knew. She was all I got and I couldn't afford thinking of it. I couldn't afford thinking of how she'd react if she knew what had become of her oh, so beloved Caesar.

She'd abandon me too, right? She'd leave me alone with my thoughts again, right?

And even though I felt nothing, there was this heaviness that followed these thoughts. A heaviness that got me closer to the bed. I peeled off my wet shirt, pants and boxers until I was standing naked and breathing heavily.

I couldn't lose her.

I hesitantly got on the bed, eyeing her with teary eyes.

I didn't want her to hate me for not being able to love her now. I wanted to know if she could wait when I got better so that I could give her all the love she deserved. If she'd hold on until I got back on my feet.

And I thought- maybe this is all in your head. Maybe you're afraid you lost all the love when it died with your brother. But no, Julius, you love her and you're scared you'd ever stop loving her. That you'd never be good enough. That's what you're scared of. It is not the same thing, remember? Being scared of something and being something aren't the same. Augustus. Remember?

Those thoughts lifted my heart a bit and gave me the courage to reach for her. I took a deep, shaky breath, adjusted myself beneath the bed covers and put my ear next to her thrumming heart before wrapping my arm around her waist.

I closed my eyes and pressed my lips to the spot from which her collar bones extended, promising her that I'd try to hold on to all the last strings of emotion I had in me. That I swear to God, I swear, I swear I'll love you. I will. I will. I will, Samantha. I will do everything I couldn't do to Augustus to save you. One day. One day. Not today, but one day. Please, don't ever leave me. I'm sorry, I couldn't respond better to this. That I let a big part of me die with him. But he's my brother, Mantha. And I loved him so much. I loved him and that's the thing about love, isn't it? It keeps you alive as long as it lives and kills you once it's gone. But I'll live for you. Because I love you, right? Isn't it love, what I'm doing? Tell me it's love. Tell me that I love you. Tell me that I can feel it. Please. I'm so so sorry.

I was crying, my tears wetting her and my grasp around her strengthened. I felt her shift beneath me and my eyes widened.

"Caesar?" she murmured and my heart stopped in my throat. I felt her place her hand in my hair and I imagined how it'd be like without her. Without all that. Gone. And I just couldn't.

I sat up slowly and stared in her shocked, bright blue eyes, my lips parting. What if she could read my thoughts? Would she be repelled of what I was thinking? Would she be disgusted by my confused emotions? Would she try to run away? I gulped as tears filled my eyes at my thoughts. It isn't my fault. I can't control it. I swear I can't.

"Are you alright?" she asked, tilting her head and smiling slightly.

I closed my mouth at her astounding beauty as I tried to extract all the emotions I could from myself. And failed. And that made me panic. I couldn't lose her. I couldn't. No, no, no. What if she found out? What if I was acting too cold and distant for her and I couldn't do anything about it because even my words would never reach her?

I had to make her mine.

I gulped, crawled up on my forearms and caged her until my face was a few inches apart from hers.

She looked at me and I was quick to place my hand near her heart. It was beating too fast. Fast enough to dry my mouth and make me on the verge of hyperventilating. Her eyelashes fluttered under my heavy gaze and her lips parted, spelling my name. I looked at her lips and a million thoughts ran in my mind, leaking in my every breath and movement. And only one thought dominated.

I want to break her heart to save mine.

Without any warning, I kissed her soft, pale lips in a daze. But when I realized that she might think that I'm a madman, I immediately pulled back and my eyes fell on her wide eyes and pursed lips. Was she going to reject me? Was she going to shove me away? Was she going to remind me of the night we broke up in? Oh. Oh.

My heart dropped. Oh no. She probably could read my eyes, I thought- she probably did really understand my heartbeat. Yet I hoped my heartbeat didn't snitch on me. On my confused emotions. Because all she gave me was pure love that I couldn't find in me. Tears already filled my eyes. This was a mistake- what had I done?

I gulped and tried pushing her hair with my shaky fingers, trying to look apologetic. She didn't come here for this. She didn't know what she was up for. Tears escaped and splattered on her pale cheeks as I shook my head and frowned, angry at my weakness. At those damned uncontrollable tears.

I was so weak and vulnerable. And it shamed me that instead of being the man she depended on, I was the burden. And as much as those tears tried carrying all my pain away, they hurt me- because she shouldn't have witnessed this pathetic version of me.

But then she smiled. She smiled and I was never so aroused in my life. This wouldn't happen if I didn't love her, right? No, no, I must be insane about her. Maybe love was a very weak word. Maybe that was why I couldn't feel it.

Yes, yes. I was mad about her. My emotions came in surges, right?

She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled my face until our foreheads touched.

"I love you." I was terrified to the bone.

She then kissed me, her lips sighing and dancing against mine and I gently pulled her closer to me like she was made of glass. I pulled away, looked in her happy eyes in disbelief. I was making her happy. I was making her happy. That's what love is about, right?

I pulled her leg up and returned the kiss with a deeper, more desperate one as I tried not to cry at the unidentifiable rush of emotion I felt.

She pulled away, panting for air but I couldn't look in her eyes anymore, so I planted my face in her soft neck. I kissed every inch of it all the way to her ears slowly, lingering to taste the feelings I had for her. She moaned and craned her neck, giving me more space to love. And I loved it more than I've loved anything before as I inhaled her and got addicted.

I let my hands discover her in the most intimate ways, making her weaker and softer under my touch. She was melting and I wanted to melt too, but I kept remembering my fear.

What if I was faking all of this? Was I even feeling a thing?

It didn't take long until she lost her dry shirt (mine, really), pants (mine too) and panties and I were on top of her, knowing that this was it as she writhed under me breathless, wanting it all, wanting all of it, all of me.

And I couldn't refuse.

I felt her tense up and clutch at my forearms, her eyes widening and her lips parting silently as I granted her wish. And in one quick motion, she released it all in moans and Caesars. I wasn't sure how I felt as I stared at her writhing, blurry figure, threatening myself no to cry.

This is right, I thought. That's the only thing you can give her to make her know that you're willing to hold on. She will appreciate that. She will.

I then looked in her deep, glistening eyes before closing mine and pulling back my head in pleasure.

I opened my eyes with a heavy sigh and looked more in her eyes as she panted beneath me with a small smile. My eyes never left hers as I gave her more of what she wanted as I hoped that my love, whatever I could give now, was enough to keep her close to me until I healed.

There it was. Love for sure.

Please, tell me, it was love. Tell me that, Sharon.

---

Samantha's blue eyes have a glint that reminds me of Augustus. It was always there whenever he was happy and in joking-mood which was almost literally all the time. All the time. Except for his death.

The red tint in the room resulting from the crimson translucent drapes warmed the ambience and helped the chaos in my head to calm a little as I stared more into her eyes. Maybe, I thought- maybe I'd see more of him.

"How did we get here?" she had asked me, tracing my lips with her index finger as I kept staring in her blue eyes, holding her naked, warm body tight to me. "I mean...wow. I'm not even sure I was ready for it."

I didn't react as I stared hard at her.

What did she mean by 'she wasn't ready'? Was she emotionally not ready? Did I force it on her? Did she retaliate because she pitied me? But that was all I had. I looked away, hurt, unwrapped my arms from around her and laid on my back, staring at the ceiling.

Maybe I wasn't ready either.

I felt her shift next to me and I slowly averted my eyes to her. She was sitting up, holding the blanket to her pale chest and studying me.

"I'm sorry Julius-" she sighed. "I shouldn't have said that. It was amazing really, but I'm just worried about you. You haven't even cracked a smile."

I looked away again and gulped. Smiling was sure a sign of happiness and satisfaction. I couldn't let that be what'd give me away, so I whipped my head toward her and pressed a toothless smile.

Her face scrunched up before she giggled. "That was the fakest smile I've ever seen. But I suppose it won't be that easy, huh? To fake a real one?"

I dropped my fake smile and looked at the ceiling again. I couldn't do it. I went from being a pro at hiding my every and each emotion to being utterly pathetic. I couldn't fake it for the death of me. I couldn't.

Then I felt her intertwine our fingers together, sending sparks up my arm. I looked at our hands and blinked, remembering the last time I'd done that. When I was 'breaking up' with her. Before Augustus came to save me by sacrificing himself. When my love for both of them had filled every atom of mine. I tightened my hold around her hand and looked up at her. She was smiling at me with teary eyes.

"You look like you're panicking, Caesar," she teased with a raised brow. "And it's either about the sex we had or about your feelings. Am I right?"

I attempted a small smile and she sighed heavily.

"Well then, tell your panicking self to relax-" she lowered herself so she rested her head on her hand and her elbow on the bed as her other hand played with my hair. I was so mesmerised by her fingers in my hair as she continued talking. "Because whatever you do, Julius-" I looked in her eyes. "Whatever you do- I will always be there. I will always stay with you, Caesar. As a friend. As a lover. A mother. A sister. A brother-" I blinked and she caged me, her dark hair framing her face and shading her rosy cheeks beautifully. "Whatever you need, whenever you need it, Caesar. You know why?"

My heart skipped a beat. Hell, I never loved this woman. I realized I appreciate her presence in ways much deeper than love. Love is too insignificant.

"Because I know it'll take a while for you to collect yourself. For things to make sense. It might take forever, Caeser-" she said, tilting her head with a sad smile, but hopeful eyes. Hope. Again. Hope that broke my heart. And her heart. And my brother's heart. Hope, again, yes- cause why not?

"But I'd rather die doing this. Being here. With you-" she then gave me a heart-warming smile before her eyes teared up. "I know you've changed. I know-" A tear slipped from her right eye and fell on my chin. She seemed rather distracted by it as she vigorously wiped her tears away. "Shit-" she cursed and I almost raised my eyebrows.

She never really cursed. Turned out that I wasn't the only one who changed. What we all went through changed every and each one of us in its own wicked way.

"Ugh, sorry-" she smiled, sniffing, her nose going red. "No matter how hard I convince myself that I shouldn't cry. I just- I just-" More tears fell and I frowned. She sat up, moving away from me.

"Shit, shit-" she repeated as she wiped away her tears that didn't seem to listen to her.

I sat up, my heart shattering seeing her this way. I touched her bare shoulder and she held up a hand, hid her face from me and sniffed more. "I'm okay, I'm okay, Caesar-" she was quickly swiping her face. "I swear I am. Just -uh- "

My heart sank as I turned her face to me. She didn't resist. Her tears flowed freely now as she stared at me with wide blood-shot eyes.

"Ignore my tears -ugh-" she tried looking away, but I shook my head. "They're so annoying-" More tears came as she sniffed more. "Oh my days-" she was talking to herself and my lips parted at the intensity of emotion flooding her irises. "I love you. This is just... irrelevant-" she referred to her tears. To her beautiful, most relevant eyes that reminded me of Augustus and the ocean's calmness. "They've always been irrelevant anyway-" she tried cracking a smile, but her lips were quivering so hard for that.

I gently placed a palm on her left cheek and wiped away her cascading tears with my thumb.

"I'm so sorry-" I frowned. What was she apologizing for? For her tears? Oh, she was making me feel so bad. So incapable of relevant emotion.

She moved her face away from my hand and I watched her sniff, push away her hair and fan herself with her hands as she tried taking in deep breaths.

I put my hands in my laps and stared at them, wondering what would happen next, how would she react to my inability to console her and how would she find the energy to continue living with a broken machine.

Tears already filled my eyes and it took my all not to groan at how truly irritating they were.

Goddammit Augustus, why did you have to leave me alone to deal with this?

My breath hitched. This thought was always the one that brought about a tornado of memories and pain, pain, pain, pain, oh, so much pain-

"It's just that I miss your voice-" Samantha said, breaking my toxic chain of thoughts. "And I miss myself. I miss the deceitful peace I lived in. The truth cost me so much-"

I looked at her, looked away and placed my head in my hands.

"It cost me you. Your brother-" The words tumbled out of her mouth hatefully. "Because I should've been wiser than listening to someone who called himself my 'brother'. I should've been smarter than believing a-a 'Maxime' and a 'Leonard' that I've last met eight years ago. 'Brothers' whom I've never really known.

"Who lied to me about their names when I told them I didn't quite remember them because it had been a while. I didn't have any solid memory with them. No picture. No letter. No nothing. And I fell for it like a fucking idiot. I 'abducted' you. Used your feelings. Locked you. Watched you get tortured. Watched you lose your brother. And all, all, because of me-" I closed my eyes.

"Because I was unbelievably naïve to favour 'family' I never really knew, over a stranger who knew me and genuinely cared about me. I didn't honour the love we had. I didn't give you a chance. I didn't hear you out. I didn't even-" she sobbed and I opened my eyes to glance at her. "I was very weak Julius. And I never deserve your love-"

At that, my head shot up and my heart pounded heavily in my ears. She had her head in her hands and was sobbing her melancholic heart out. She needed so much love to fix her and she decided to depend on a rusty thing.

I immediately reached for her, wrapped my arms around her and pulled her to my chest like she did when we were in the tub.

This was no one's fault but mine. This was that. This was my fate. My destiny. This was karma. I was paying for my mistakes and God just arranged the pattern in which that happened and included the people he needed for his plan to happen. I was bound to break beyond repair one day and I knew it. I knew it and it hurt. I was being nothing but a consequence now.

So, no, Samantha, I thought as I gently supported my back on the bed's back with her sobbing between my legs, her back on my chest. This is never your fault, love- I planted a kiss on top of her head. I'm the one who's sorry for letting you pay with me- I intertwined our fingers and raised them to kiss her knuckles.

She turned her head to look at me with teary eyes and I let go of her hand to hold her face and wipe away the stray tears. I gazed into her eyes and was captivated by the fading sparkle they held.

I leaned in and rested my forehead on hers, feeling her warm, rapid breaths fan my face. I then kissed her cheeks, her nose, her chin, between her eyebrows, her eyes and pulled back to look at her. My masterpiece.

"It'll all be okay-" she whispered and I wondered who she was saying that to. Herself probably.

Oh, I knew where this would end for me.

There was no way I was ever going to be okay because it's impossible to bring Augustus back, isn't it? And until it becomes possible, I didn't think the world even deserved my voice.

But I smiled for her nevertheless. I smiled even though I knew she could see the lie beneath it.