Page 150 of A Breath of Life
I inched my ass to the edge of the mattress, wincing and earning a scowl. Threading my fingers through his thick hair, I urged him to rest his head on my lap. He did, reluctantly at first, but once he settled, I massaged his scalp, revisiting the lump that hadn’t healed and the old scars where hair didn’t grow.
He peered at me the whole time, expression tortured, drenched in longing and regret and a mountain of pain I might never be able to soothe. We remained like that until shift change, when the nurses did their rotation and checked my vitals.
He stayed again that night, refusing to leave when visiting hours ended. No one made him. Echo slept on the floor, and Diem squeezed his oversized body on the bed beside me. Since I’d napped that afternoon, I wasn’t tired.
We stared at one another. Our noses brushed and breaths mingled. Searching, seeking, and silent. So many unspoken words passed between us.
I stroked Diem’s cheek and reached for his lost soul, trying desperately to connect with it. He was so far away. So guarded.
“Talk to me, Diem.”
He shook his head.
“Please. I need to hear your voice. I need to know you’re okay. I’m worried.”
Pain crawled over his face, emotional, not physical, but I would have bet it hurt more than any blow. His tongue traveled languidly along the seam of his lips like he was seeking the right words or trying to remember how to make his voice box function.
When he spoke, it came out raw and rough. “I thought I lost you.”
I kept my hand cupped over his jaw. “You didn’t.”
Eyes shining, throat working, he pressed his hand over mine. “I couldn’t survive without you, Tallus. You’re such a vital part of me. If I lost you…”
“You didn’t.”
“It was too close.”
“But I’m still here.”
He nodded, gazing over every inch of my face. “We aren’t allowed to fight anymore.”
Ipffed. “Don’t take the fun out of our relationship, Guns. Disagreeing from time to time is healthy. My mother said so, and she knows everything.”
A faint impression of a smile touched his mouth.
“Let it out. I won’t tell anyone.”
He did, but ducked his chin as though embarrassed. “You bring me so much happiness.”
“And a buttload of anxiety.”
“That too.”
“It was the drugs. It gave me delusions of grandeur.”
Another smile. That one came easier. “It made you stupid.”
“It made me brave.”
“Stupid.”
“Brave.”
The smile became something more. “Fuck, Tallus. No one makes me laugh like you do.” Quieter, he added, “You made me whole again, and I didn’t think that was possible.”
“I love you, Diem.”
“I love you.”
