On The Borderline
They were at it again play wrestling.
Celia gripped her girlfriend's arms in an attempt to make them stop groping various parts of her body. Instead, she forced the lovely lady in front of her into a kiss. They both paused for a moment, forgetting the mock wrestling.
As soon as the kiss stopped, in a tangle of hair and grunts, Celia's girlfriend was pinning her arms below her.
"Nicole," Celia growled, as the stronger girl's hand wandered toward Celia's crotch. The instant Nicole's hand went to grab, Celia's legs seemed to learn super strength to lung her over to the other side of the bed. She was always afraid her reflexes would hurt her love, but she was dating a warrior.
Nicole was beautiful. Strong, independent, and gorgeous. She was the girl that beat up all the boys. They still seemed to chase after her, though, because her warrior side couldn't hide her beauty.
Celia was the opposite. Weak; more of a word mage than a fist fighter. While Nicole stood mostly silent, Celia would fill the gaps with words. Their oppositions kind of complimented each other, not to say they didn't have a lot in common.
One thing happened to be that they were both stubborn. Celia would never admit that she was a weakling to anyone short of Nicole, and Nicole would never lose an argument, or a fight if anyone had actually challenged her.
Celia straddled her girlfriend and quickly grabbed her wrists, knowing that was a control center of the body. Unfortunately she could only subdue her for a short time before her strength was outmatched. When Nicole's arms pushed hers up, Celia quickly fought them down with tickles and tried to pin them down with her legs, but to no avail. They just stared at each other, struggling.
Celia didn't mind too much, in all honesty, just sitting here and staring at her lady love. She was beautiful. Her body was long and her deep blue eyes took you somewhere else.
Nicole caught the girl distracted and jiggled her hips to maneuver the girl out from under her and pinned her to the bed. Celia kept her legs bent up in front of her to prevent her girlfriend from getting full access.
Nicole responded by biting Celia's thigh through her pants.
"H-Hey!" Celia shoved the head away, brain distracted from whether it would hurt her or not. The bite normally got a rush out of her, and it kind of did, but she felt it almost like a pinch through the jeans.
"Does this mean I win?" Nicole asked with a flirty grin as her arm groped towards her girlfriend's chest. Celia swatted it away impatiently.
"No," Celia said, biting her tongue. She was too stubborn. She struggled arms to arms with Nicole and Nicole ran her nails up Celia's back.
Celia twitched. She couldn't..
Nicole flipped her over onto her front giggling, biting down her back.
The bites. They were all wrong. Out of context. This wasn't a sensual massage. This was wrestling. This was.
Someplace, somewhere else.
Celia could feel it happening, but she just smiled and didn't say anything when her girlfriend seemed happy about the squeaks.
Her smile was fading.
She could feel herself being pinned down.
She was in another place, another time.
She wasn't Celia with Nicole anymore. She tried to look at that face she loved so much and see it, but she saw something else, from some unexplained past.
Celia had no meaning for these.. flashbacks.
The scratches down her back, they were for someone else's pleasure. Her pain was their pleasure. Nicole wasn't her Nikki anymore. She faded out to block out the pain.
She could feel foreign teeth biting her.
Foreign hands forcing themselves in her pants.
And Celia just froze.
She never told Nicole to stop. She never said it bothered her. She had no reason for it to. It didn't make sense. When Nicole asked if anything hurt, she replied no.
No words came out.
She could just feel herself being forced down, pinned down, unable to move, so weak and vulnerable, not able to push herself up and fight. Not once had she said, "Maybe we should relax on the play wrestling."
Never had she mentioned, "I get kind of claustrophobic."
This was her girlfriend we were talking about. They cuddled until the morning light and if it were up to Celia she would never let Nicole let go of her.
But now she was choking. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Somehow, someway in her life, she always lost herself. Around people she loved, something would happen. Her best friend would shuffle paper wrong, and she would picture murdering them.
Two wrong words and she would fade away. The friends didn't notice. She could get away. She could hide. Put on a happy face. Run away from this spot on the border of herself that she tip toed so dangerously close to.
But never before had she been so intimate with someone. Never before had she been seen on the inside out and understood, or at least accepted.
The hands were grabbing her. She couldn't move. Some place from somewhere else from another life. It didn't make sense. She was never raped or assaulted or abused. You could ask Celia's parents. She didn't have trauma. It just didn't..
She couldn't move. That was all she could think of. Not that it was someone who loved her, but why the hell wasn't Nicole reading her facial expressions enough to know something was going on? Why was Nicole continuing? Why was she oblivious?
And Celia couldn't say a word. All she could do was scream, READ MY MIND loud enough in her head in the hopes that Nicole would hear.
But under the grasps of her girlfriend that were supposed to be pleasurable teasing, Celia completely tensed up into a ball.
"Want a massage?" Nicole asked with a grin, thinking Celia had just surrendered.
Celia shrugged off her hands, numb, away from this all. Let me go, she thought.
Nicole's face dropped, noticing the familiar state of Celia. "Oh god.. I did it again.." Nicole cursed loudly and dropped to the floor by herself as Celia curled into a ball with tears dropping all over Nicole's bed covers. Now Nicole was the motionless one, shutting things out, blaming herself.
Oh god, just come here and hug me, Celia mentally begged, sniffling. Please please hug me and make everything alright. Just read my mind and make sense out of all of this.
She just wanted the comfort now. Not the restraint but the comfort, but Nicole didn't get it at all and was afraid to even come near Celia, which made her feel worse. Celia felt like there was something inside her. Some kind of monster.
What Nicole didn't understand was that she hadn't done anything wrong. Play wrestling and playful groping isn't wrong, and nine times out of ten the biting and scratching turned on Celia. Sometimes it was slightly rough but she didn't know what triggered this shit or why.
She couldn't make sense or words of it. There were loose thread-like thoughts that she couldn't form out of her vocal cords. The worse part was Nicole blaming herself.
Celia wanted to know what was wrong with her. None of this made any sense. Anything could trigger her shifts like that, but nothing was ever as drastic as it got with Nicole. It had only happened a few times within their year of dating, but she hated herself for hurting her like that. Nicole could take all her bones being broken before she took the mindfucking pain. Then she didn't know what to do with herself and usually practiced on the punching bag or just ran. Celia was more of the logical, thinking type, but even this shit put her mind in a bind.
Celia peeked over the side of the bed to see Nicole with her head in her hands, not crying, but just in a desperate stance.
"Please come up here," she timidly whispered, trying not to bring back tears. She always cried too much whereas Nicole never cried.
"I don't want to upset you," Nicole said coldly.
"Please.. hold me."
"You sure you'll be okay?" Celia nodded, wanting more than anything for Nicole's arms to wrap around her and protect her from her own self.
Nicole silently laid her stiff body on the bed and Celia seemed to crawl into her arms.
She said "I'm sorry" about eight times and Nicole didn't reply, just closing her eyes.
"Please talk to me," Celia begged, tears forming all over again.
"There's not much to say."
She sounded cold. They were silent for a long while and Celia hated herself for it, for putting Nicole through this and not being able to explain herself.
"I wish I could explain.." Celia whispered.
"It's me," Nicole replied simply.
"Stop that," Celia said frustratedly. "It's not. It's just.. so hard.. to explain.."
"I do this to you every time."
"It's not like that, Nikki, it's just how I get. I'm not me."
"What are you? What is it."
"It's.." Celia didn't even know. "..something. I don't know." She saw Nicole's skeptical look. "Honestly. I'm not censoring myself to make you feel better. It's not you. I just get triggered by something and lose myself.."
Celia wondered why she couldn't feel whole or make sense of herself. "You deserve better," she concluded. "You deserve someone who's not fucked up."
"Shut up," Nicole told her. "I love you. End of story. Not changing. I'm not exactly perfect either."
"Do you stay with me?" Celia wanted to know honestly. All she felt like was baggage.
"Well," Nicole said, "because I love you, and you give me strength."
"Strength!" Celia actually laughed. "Strength and I don't belong in the same sentence."
"You don't think, going through whatever you go through, is strength?"
"It's stupid, and I always cry. That's not strength. You're the strong one."
"It's not stupid." Nicole was silent for a long while. Celia wanted to ask her what she was thinking but she never got an answer. She looked beautiful, though.
Celia was still for a while too, but a different kind of still. She enjoyed Nicole's protective arms, but she awkwardly removed them with Celia's stillness.
"No," Celia told her. "I like that."
"Okay," Nicole said, placing her arms back around her girl.
"Please don't be afraid of me."
"I'm not. I just don't want to hurt you," she said gently.
Celia didn't know how she could feel so warped when all this girl did was care and care for her. All she did was treat her right no matter what stupid shit went on. She would probably always be walking on the borderline of fiery drop, but she knew she had someone to try to catch her, at least.