Page 96 of His Sound
“I do. I really do.”
* * *
We endup at my apartment, back where it all began.
“Imagine if you’d found the bathroom on the first try,” I say, after opening the door. “I wonder if we ever would have spoken to each other.”
“Molly,” he answers, “I would have found a way to you no matter what. I think that I always will.”
We take our time undressing each other on my bed, my mini lights spilling over our skin. I kiss as much of his skin as I can reach, committing every inch of him to memory. He strokes my back like he’s scared I’ll shatter into a million pieces, like I’ll turn to dust in his hands. He’s so timid that I whisper to him, telling him he won’t break me.
“You’re right,” he answers. “Nothing can break you.”
His body hovers over mine, both of us desperate for that final shift that will join us together. My hands cling to his shoulders, my legs wrapped around his waist. I’m about to murmur a plea when he thrusts his hips towards me, and I feel him fill me all at once. It’s enough to make me gasp and send my eyes rolling back.
“I missed you,” he says through ragged breathing. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too.”
We start to move together, our need growing until I’m clawing at his back and his thrusts come hard and fast against me. My pleasure paints pictures behind my eyelids, swirling shapes and colours that I’ll never be able to capture, never have a chance to replicate, because this is the art that only exists when two people breathe fire into each other’s lungs. It’s fast and it’s fleeting, but for the few minutes it ignites us, for the few seconds it burns so bright we feel the melting in our bones, we’re limitless. Immeasurable. No longer just skin on skin, but something more. Something that can never die or be broken.
We’re not just something. We’re everything.
