“Come here,” he directs. I stand up and walk to his side of the table. Just as I ask where he wants me, he leans back and pushes his left sleeve up. His sharp gaze lands on me, and I take a steadying breath as he finishes. My subconscious lowers the wall I keep up, allowing him inside. Allowing him to tell me what to do next. It’s strange… this feeling. Of letting go completely. He doesn’t control me. He is in control of the situation, and for someone like me, it means no more overthinking. Trusting him completely.
