Her eyes glistened, but she bit her lip. "No. But that's what you're telling me." It came out as a soft accusation.
He kissed her hard, pouring his determination into her, infecting her with the same obsession—or whatever the fuck it was; he didn't even recognize it anymore—that had him in its grip.
She let him, opening, unfurling, accepting it.
"We will become ashes before we are apart," he murmured against her mouth. Her breath hitched. He knew she liked his words, that she cherished them and held them close to her heart. "I willneverlet you go."
He pulled back, brushing the back of his fingers, darkened with burns and scars, over her unblemished, pale cheek. "Think of this as a temporary adventure."
Her throat worked as she swallowed. "Why?" she questioned, innocent and accusatory at the same time.
"Because you're on a journey of self-discovery, of healing and rising from your own ashes," he reminded her. "You're finding who you are, and your mind is finally ready to face your past. You are an emotional creature,flamma.You need all these pieces to feel whole and happy. And I happen to like it when you're happy."
Her fingers brushed over his hair idly. "But what if I'm never whole? What if, after all of it, I'm left… empty?"
Dainn lifted her hips and slid inside her slowly, watching her eyes roll back and feeling her nails dig into his muscles, her walls weeping around him. Even after all this time, it took her a bitto adjust to his presence inside her, his piercings and his length and his girth, filling her to the brim in a way he knew she had become addicted to.
"Do you feel empty?" he asked her, watching her face closely for her reactions.
Her mouth trembled, her eyes half-lidded. "Not with you."
"Never with me. No matter what happens, you'll never be empty with me."
It was she who kissed him this time, knowing his words meant more than just the physical, leaning forward and capturing his lips with hers.
"I love you," she told him, and the words, her voice, her presence, became another core memory that etched itself deep in his brain, firing his synapses, flooding his neurons with chemicals that made him feel invincible, forcing the organ in his ribs to beat extra hard with the closest thing to the emotion she called love he could feel, love like she had described it to him.
"I know," he told her as he always did, holding her close, and knowing she understood his flawed being, understood that it was who he was, and yet she loved him anyway.
Then he began to move in her, deepening their kiss, savoring both her taste and her memory, knowing their time together was dwindling down.