Chapter 37 Vale #3
“I love you, Vale,” he breathes against my neck. His face is wet. “More than anyone or anything, ever. Promise me you’ll remember that. No matter what happens. Promise me, you’ll remember I love you.”
I gape at the ceiling, lips fumbling for words. “What…what do you mean?” I finally manage. “What’s happening?”
He lifts his head to smile down at me, and I don’t miss the way his eyes gleam.
“Maybe nothing,” he whispers. He darts his gaze between mine, looking desperate.
“Hopefully nothing. I’ll…I’ll protect you.
Just know that. I mean if—Okay? I promise, I swear…
I’ll do everything I can to keep you s-sa–from hurting.
” He chokes out that last word, and I struggle to keep up with the fractured words that just tumbled from his mouth.
I frown, my pulse skittering with some emotion I can’t name. It reminds me of when CPS showed up at my grandma’s, and they told me I’d be living elsewhere.
“Aston…” I murmur. Alarm bells go off in my head, and I feel myself shaking my head.
Why does this feel like goodbye?
Why does it feel like something terrible is about to happen? Something he seems to be in the know about…
Something that makes me think of creaking whines and thuds against the wall and three separate sets of footsteps.
He shakes his head, and buries his face in my neck, holding me tight.
“Aston.”
“Do you love me?”
I make a face.
“I know it’s stupid.” He sniffs, burrowing deeper into my neck. “But will you say it anyway, even if you don’t mean it? I just…I really need to hear it. Right now. Please,” he rushes out, his voice breaking.
I open my mouth, shut it.
He tenses. I don’t even think he breathes.
My throat feels unbearably thick in that way it sometimes feels when I’m angry.
“It’s okay,” he mutters, like he’s reassuring us both. “Just forget it. Go to sleep.”
For a long moment, I say nothing. Every time I try, it’s like something’s got my throat in a vice.
He goes to pull away, but I don’t let him. My arms tighten of their own accord, plastering his taller, skinny body to me.
It’s then I notice he’s got no pants on. I’m not even sure that he’s wearing underwear.
His breaths are hot and heavy on my throat. Damp.
My swallow goes down like gravel. “I…” I screw my eyes shut. “I love you too.”
I have no idea if I mean it. All I know is Aston needs to hear it right now, and for whatever reason I can’t not give it to him.
Three words I can’t remember ever giving anyone, not even when my parents would say them when they tucked me into bed.
If I did, it was just because I was supposed to. It was what was expected.
This…this feels different.
Aston tips his head back, finding my gaze with his. Tears streak his cheeks. “Yeah?
I blink. “Yeah, I… love you, okay?”
His face bunches and his shoulders shake with a sob he buries in my neck. Instinctively, I hold him tighter. Like I could keep him from breaking.
Because that’s what this feels like.
Like he’s breaking.
And he’s not supposed to do that. Only toys are supposed to break. In all the time I’ve known Aston, he’s never fallen apart like this.
Pulling back, his gaze flits to my mouth, and I feel more than see his gulp. “Vale…”
Then, slowly, so slowly, he lowers his face. Brushing our lips together in a light, salty, shivery kiss.
I watch wide-eyed as his lashes flutter closed. He sighs against my mouth, melting into me. His bare leg rubs against the flannel pants I wear.
I move my lips the slightest bit, instinctively adding pressure to the kiss.
A moment later, he pulls back with a small smile. I think he might be blushing. But that could just be from the tears still bubbling over his eyes.
He looks like he wants to say something, but every time he tries, something holds him back.
Then, finally, he murmurs, “You won’t forget, right?”
Lips pursed, I shake my head.
“Good. Good.” His breath hitches, and he looks away. “Night, little mouse.”
I scowl when he boops me on the nose, shoving his hand away. Normally, he’d be laughing. He doesn’t tonight.
When he rolls away from me, putting his curved back to my side, my hands flex, my body twitching.
Before I can make sense of this…this…urge driving my pulse up, Aston reaches back, blindly grabbing my hand and yanking me so I’m on my side, mirroring his position, my arm thrown around waist. Giving me no choice but to hold him—snuggle him from behind.
He sighs, his body going completely lax against me.
It takes a minute before I can catch my bearings and do the same. Scooting around, I struggle to maintain a healthy distance between our lower halves, and find a comfortable place to rest the arm I lay on.
In the end, I forgo stuffing it under the pillow cushioning our heads, and instead wedge it between his back and my chest, so it’s twisted awkwardly against my front, fingers brushing my stomach.
I shift my head around, wrinkling my nose when his hair tickles my face. I wiggle and scoot down a bit so it isn’t right in my face.
And that’s when I feel it.
A damp spot on the sheets where my fingers touch, the ones trapped between us.
His tears?
No…that doesn’t make sense. Did he pee?
I lean back a bit to bring my hand up and sniff my fingers, grimacing at the sour metallic scent.
Blood?
It’s too dark to see.
“Are you hurt?” I ask, pushing up on my elbow to peek over at his face.
But he’s already asleep, my hand and the butterfly clutched tightly to his chest.