“When I was in a coma.” “You did, huh?”
He raises his eyes to me and swallows hard.
I hope he knows it’s my fucked-up way of saying I love you, because I have such a hard time verbalizing those three words. Speaking those little words into existence terrifies me. I’d rather stare down the barrel of a gun than utter those words aloud.
I exhale, closing my eyes for a second, before opening them again and forcing the words out. “I heard you.”
His brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“When I was in a coma.”
“You did, huh?”
I nod. “Every word.”
He goes very still. “And?”
“I was dying. And I was okay with that fate. But you … what you said…" I swallow hard. I need to say this next part with conviction. "You gave me something to fight for. You brought me back.”
His breath catch before he leans into me, his mouth finding my lips.
The kiss is slow at first and I simply die (in the best way) at the feeling of his tongue dancing with mine.
My body, still tender and recovering, is screaming for him, but I think he’s worried he might hurt me.
Like if he moves too fast, too soon, I might break into smithereens.
His hand cups the back of my neck, the other sliding around my waist, and I melt into him.
He rolls our bodies so my back is to his front and kisses underneath my ear. “I never thought I’d see you again.”
His hands wrap around my waist, and mine find the top of his hands, pulling him closer.
My dark, unholy savior. The man who saved me in a million different ways. Who saved me from the monsters in the dark and the one living inside my own skin. The one who gave up everything for me, so I could have a life, even if it destroyed his own.
I found him. And I’m never letting him go again.