Chapter 22 Evie #3
“You don’t have to be anything for me,” she whispers.
I scoff weakly. “I’m being a disaster.”
Kaia’s mouth twitches. “Good. Be a disaster. I can handle it.”
I stare at her. “Since when are you good at handling anything?”
Kaia exhales a small laugh, then sobers. “Since I stopped trying to do it alone.”
The words land quietly, heavy with everything she’s finally learning. My throat tightens. I step closer, and this time it’s me who kisses her—slow, deliberate, not hungry-first. My hands slide up to her shoulders, grounding myself in the reality of her body here, warm and breathing.
Kaia kisses me back with the same care, like she’s not trying to take anything from me. Just offer.
We separate on a shaky breath.
I whisper, “We’re still here.”
Kaia’s eyes glisten. “Yeah.”
“After everything,” I say, voice breaking again. “We’re still here.”
Kaia nods, and her voice is rough. “Still here.”
I tug at the edge of her hoodie. “Take it off?"
Kaia pauses, just a beat, checking my face. “Okay.”
She helps me out of my hoodie first, slow. Like she’s unwrapping something precious instead of just taking off fabric. Her fingers brush my skin and I shiver—not from desire, not exactly. From being touched gently after yesterday’s violence and loss.
I swallow hard. “You’re being… weirdly careful.”
Kaia’s mouth curves faintly. “You deserve careful.”
The words make my eyes burn again.
I pull her hoodie up and over her head. Her hair falls free, dark and slightly messy, nothing like the stage.
She looks like Kaia again. Not the poster.
I brush my thumb under her eye. “You look tired.”
Kaia leans into the touch. “I am.”
“Good,” I mutter. “Be tired with me.”
Kaia’s breath shudders like she’s trying not to cry. “Okay.”
We move together without rushing. Shoes kicked off. Layers folded or dropped without ceremony. Skin meeting skin in small, grounding touches, foreheads pressed together, hands on shoulders, a kiss to my temple that feels like an apology without words.
There’s a moment where I hesitate, grief flashing up like a sudden wave.
Kaia notices instantly. She stills.
“We can stop,” she whispers.
I shake my head. “No. I just… I don’t want to feel alone in my own body tonight.”
Kaia’s eyes soften with something fierce. “You won’t.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Promise?”
Kaia kisses my forehead. “I’m not going anywhere.”
The words move through me slowly, like warmth returning to a limb that’s been numb too long. I hadn’t realized how tightly I’d been holding myself together until that moment—how cold the house felt, how hollow everything inside me had been.
Without really thinking, I tug her toward the bed.
We sink down onto the mattress together, not in a rush—just easing into it, like we’re both remembering how to be close without fear.
Kaia’s arm slides around my waist immediately, pulling me in until my face ends up tucked against the curve of her shoulder.
Her skin is warm. Familiar. I breathe her in like I’ve been holding my breath for days.
The tightness in my chest doesn’t vanish, but it loosens a little with every slow inhale.
The house is still empty. Too empty. But it doesn’t feel like it’s swallowing me anymore.
I press my mouth against the warm skin of her shoulder, letting the simple contact anchor me to the moment.
“Stay the night?” I whisper.
Kaia’s hand tightens gently at the small of my back.
“Yeah,” she murmurs against my hair. “I’m staying.”
Something inside me settles when she says it. The promise sinks deep, past all the noise in my head, into the place that’s been aching all day.
For a long while we just lie there holding each other. Her thumb moves slowly up and down my spine, tracing small circles over my skin through my shirt, patient and steady like she’s coaxing the tension out of me one breath at a time.
Eventually she shifts, fingers lifting my chin so I’m looking at her. The way she kisses me now is different. Slower. Softer. Careful in a way that makes my throat tighten.
Her lips move over mine with quiet patience, letting the kiss deepen only when I lean into it. When I sigh against her mouth, she whispers the words again.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
Her hand cups the side of my face, thumb brushing gently along my cheekbone before her lips drift to my temple. She presses a kiss there, then another, murmuring softly against my skin.
“You’re okay,” she says. “I’ve got you.”
The reassurance slips into all the places that have been aching.
Kaia moves slowly as she helps me out of my clothes, fingers brushing my shoulders, my arms, the curve of my waist. She never rushes. Every time she pauses, her eyes flick up to mine like she’s checking—making sure I’m still with her.
I am.
Every piece of clothing she removes is followed by another kiss. My temple. The corner of my mouth. The hollow beneath my ear.
“Still okay?” she asks quietly.
I nod, my hands sliding over her back as she leans over me.
Her mouth drifts lower, leaving warm, lingering kisses along my collarbone. The attention makes my breathing hitch, a quiet sound escaping me before I can stop it.
Kaia smiles softly against my skin.
“There you are,” she murmurs, her voice low and coaxing, like she’s drawing me back into my own body.
Her hands wander slowly over me—up my waist, over my ribs, cupping the weight of my breasts with a lingering, knowing touch.
Her thumbs graze over my nipples, just enough pressure to make my breath hitch, before she drags her palms down again.
Each pass of her hands loosens something tight inside my chest, melting me open under her.
By the time she settles between my legs, my body feels loose and warm and alive in a way it hasn’t all day.
One of her hands slides up and threads through mine, fingers lacing tight, grounding me. Her grip is firm, almost possessive. Her other hand drags up my thigh, spreading me wider for her as she settles between my legs. Her eyes meet mine, a silent question, and I nod.
I feel her breath first—warm, teasing—right over my pussy, and it makes my hips twitch before she even touches me.
Then her mouth is on me.
A slow, deliberate lick through my folds that makes my whole body jolt. She groans softly against me, the sound vibrating straight through my clit, and I gasp, my free hand twisting into the sheets. Her tongue moves again, firmer, dragging up, circling, pressing exactly where I need it.
“Fuck—Kaia—”
My voice breaks as she keeps going, her mouth hot and wet between my thighs.
She doesn’t rush it. She drags it out, licking me slowly, then harder, then easing back just enough to make me chase it before giving it to me again.
Every pass of her tongue makes my hips lift, grinding helplessly against her face.
Her fingers tighten around my hand when I start to shake.
Her other hand digs into my thigh, keeping me spread open while her tongue flicks over my clit, faster now, more insistent.
The wet sound of it, the heat of her mouth—it’s too much, not enough, and everything at once.
My thighs try to close around her, but she holds me there, keeps me exactly where she wants me.
The pressure builds fast—tight, sharp, coiling low in my stomach until I can’t breathe past it.
“I’m—Kaia, I’m gonna—”
She doesn’t stop. If anything, she presses in harder, sucking, licking, driving me right to the edge with a relentless, hungry rhythm.
And then I snap.
The orgasm hits like a shock through my entire body, ripping a cry from my throat as my back arches off the bed.
My hips jerk against her mouth, grinding hard as wave after wave crashes through me.
I clutch her hand, nails digging in, my whole body trembling as the pleasure pulses, dragging on, pulling another broken sound from me.
She keeps going through it.
Slower now, but still there—still licking, still teasing my oversensitive clit until I’m gasping, twitching, trying to pull away even as I can’t stop chasing the feeling.
“Kaia—too much—”
Only then does she ease off, pressing one last soft, lingering kiss against my soaked skin before lifting her head.
I collapse back into the pillows, chest heaving, my body loose and wrecked, thighs still trembling around her. Everything feels too sensitive, too alive, like I’ve been stripped raw from the inside out.
Kaia presses one last soft kiss against my hip before climbing back up beside me.
“You didn’t—” I start, still catching my breath.
She shakes her head, brushing my hair away from my face.
“I just wanted to make you feel good,” she says quietly.
Something in my chest aches at the tenderness in her voice.
She pulls the blanket over us, then settles against me again, her arm sliding around my waist the way it was before. When I curl into her shoulder this time, sleep creeps in almost immediately.
Her lips press into my hair.
“I’m here,” she murmurs again.
And for the first time since everything fell apart, I fall asleep without the fear of waking up alone.