My boyfriend just recently moved into a new apartment with a nice, wide couch that's perfect for cuddling on.  It ended up making it into a crying fantasy I was having today, and I felt like writing it out into a story.  I feel like the build-up to the crying part goes a little too fast to feel natural, but I hope you still like it!

She knocked on the door, unsure of what she would be walking into.  He hadn’t been very descriptive when he’d texted her, telling her how down he was feeling, and she hadn’t waited for an explanation before offering to come over. 
She heard the slow shuffling of feet, and the door creaked as it opened.  He looked pretty well put-together, but she could see the hints of some deep pain on his features as he looked at her.   
“Hey,” she said tentatively.
“Hey,” he responded, stepping aside to let her in.
“So what’s going on?” she prompted, standing awkwardly by the door.
He shrugged and walked into the living room, settling down on the couch and staring out into space.  She sat down on the opposite end of the sofa and looked at him.
“Are you okay?” she asked after a few more moments of silence.
“No, I’m not okay.”
“What’s  wrong?”
He sighed and turned to face her.  “Everything,” he said, his voice soft.  “My life’s just turning to shit, and there’s nothing I can do about it.  I feel so lost, you know?”
“Do you want to tell me about it?”
“No, I don’t want to talk about it.  I can’t talk about it.”  He looked away, and she thought she saw his cheeks flush pink.  “I’m sorry.  It was so stupid of me to let you come over right now.  I knew you were going to want me to explain it all, and I can’t.  I should’ve told you to stay home where it was warm instead of trudging through the snow just to see me.  It’s just…the truth is, I think you’re the only thing I’m living for right now.”  With that, he glanced up hesitantly, as if he were afraid of her response.
“Oh, honey,” she said, her heart breaking for him.  She searched for something to say that could help.  “I love you so much, and if you need me to keep you going, that’s fine.  I’ll always be here for you.  Your heart is safe with me.  But I want you to tell me what I can do to try to help you live for yourself, again, too.”
He shrugged.  “I don’t know.”
“Okay, but please know I’ll do anything for you.  If you want me to call you every day, I will.  If you want me to come over every night and sit with you until you fall asleep, I will.  Whatever you need, don’t be afraid to ask.”
He nodded thoughtfully.  When he finally spoke, his voice was barely audible.  “Right now, I kind of just want to cry, but without having to explain myself.”
“Okay.”  She turned sidewise, pressing herself against the back of the sofa and patting the cushion beside her.  “Come lay down on the couch with me.”
He hesitated, looking from her to the cushion and back.  “Why?”
She took a deep breath, unsure of how he would respond to the truth.   “I just want to hold you for a while,” she said.
He remained still for a minute, and she wondered if she had made him uncomfortable.  Then, she saw the corner of his lip turn up slightly.  “Okay,” he said, scooting closer.
She lay back, resting her head on the arm of the sofa, and he lay down on his stomach, his arms wrapped around beneath her and his head on her shoulder.  She rested her hands on his back, drawing small circles over his shoulder blade with one finger, and they were quiet. 
“I love you,” she murmured to him after a few minutes.
“I love you, too,” he whispered, and she heard him sigh deeply.
She was just wondering if he would actually end up crying with her there when he sniffled loudly.  As he exhaled, she could hear that his breath was shaky, and then his body quaked.  It was a sudden and violent tremor, though he made no noise as it surged through him.  Still, she recognized it as a stifled sob.  He turned his head, pressing his face into her shoulder, and another sob racked his body.  This time, she heard him whimper softly, the sound muffled by her t-shirt.  She ran one hand up his body until it reached his head and started gently working her fingers into his hair.  When he felt this, he squeezed her tightly, gripping clumps of her shirt in his fists, and started sobbing harder.  Now, the sounds were unmistakable. 
“It’s okay, my love.  I’ve got you,” she whispered, holding him firmly against her as he shook.  “I’m here.”
He continued to cry for quite a while, having abandoned any attempts to hide his sorrow.  Over time, though, his sobs subsided, and finally, his body was still.  A soft snore echoed from her shoulder, and she knew he had cried himself to sleep.  She kept playing with his hair, listening to his sleepy breaths.  Her heart melted at the sound of them. 
Then, suddenly, he jolted awake, lifting his head to look at her.  His face was pink and blotchy, and she could see fear in his swollen, bloodshot eyes.  He said nothing; he just stared, waiting to learn if exposing himself to her had been a mistake.  Gently, she cupped his cheek, wiping away a tear streak with the pad of her thumb, and leaning forward, she brought her lips to his.  She kissed him as tenderly as she knew how, and hesitantly, he returned the gesture.  He tasted like salt, and she could feel his lower lip quiver slightly under hers.  When they pulled away, she remained silent, just staring lovingly into his eyes.  She could tell that the kiss had put him at ease.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice crackling with remnants of emotion, and he let his head drop back down to her shoulder, where it remained. 

Last edited by punkchick (February 24, 2015 4:59 am)