Stolen Shadows

17 - Apologies, Promises, and F*cking Choices

When they woke up, there was no space left between their bodies. Sophie had her face tucked in the crook of Addison's neck, and Addy was curled up tight against Sophie's chest. Their hands were threaded together and Sophie had an arm dangled across Addison's waist. She took in a deep breath, smelling her own soap on Addy's skin. She shifted, about to kiss her, when she realized what she was doing. But she wanted to, she wanted her, and why should she not?

Addison sighed as Sophie's lips met her neck, her head rocking back to expose more of her skin. She tightened her hold on her, willing her not to stop. But after the first kiss, Sophie pulled back.

Addison closed her eyes again. Sophie brushed a hand through her hair. "Hey," she murmured. "How're you feeling?"

"I'm scared to move," Addy mumbled back. She remained frozen, worried that the second she shifted a sharp pain would shoot through her.

"Can I help?" Sophie asked. Addison gave the slightest nod of her head.

She shivered as Sophie pulled away completely, getting up from the bed and leaving Addison's back exposed to the cold air. The thin t-shirt did little to keep her warm; and it was nothing compared to the warmth of Sophie's body.

She opened her eyes, about to call her back, and found Sophie moving around to her side. She instinctively shifted backward to make space and winced as she did.

"Don't move," Sophie told her. She slid back beneath the covers, now on the other side so she could face Addison. Her hand reached for Addy's waist again, and this time found its place more naturally. Her other hand tucked back Addison's hair. "Talk to me," she said.

Addison leaned forward against Sophie's palm. "It hurts. A lot. But it's better than last night."

Sophie nodded. "Okay, good. And you don't feel... sick? Nauseous? Overheated, or a worse pain inside your chest—"

"I'm alright, Soph," Addison interrupted with the hints of a smile. "Just sore. You did good last night."

Sophie's thumb brushed Addison's waist, sneaking under the hem of her shirt and touching warm skin. "I couldn't do nothing. You would've bled out."

"But I didn't," Addison pointed out. She reached out for Sophie's hips and tugged her closer.

"You didn't tell me what happened," Sophie said.

Addison sighed. "There was a bomb. I... I almost had Axel, and then a bomb went off. It wasn't mine. The shrapnel hit me when it blew, but I managed to get out before the fire spread." Addison closed her eyes again, remembering the panic, the heat, the smoke. "Axel must've made it out," she muttered. "I saw him go another way."

Sophie froze. "You mean it's not over?"

Addison looked at her for a long time. "It's not over until he's dead, Soph."

Sophie shook her head. "You want to go back out."

"I have to."

"No, you don't," Sophie argued. "You don't. You have this—this vendetta, this need for revenge, when you could take down the gang as the police chief, not some vigilante risking her life and nearly getting killed every week and scaring me half to death by showing up on my doorstep barely conscious—"

Addison slid her hand to the back of Sophie's neck, pulled her close, and kissed her. Sophie cut off, her mouth parting on instinct as she met Addison's lips, her hands tightening around her as she pressed her body to hers. Addy tangled her fingers in Sophie's hair and held her firmly. Sophie gasped as Addison's tongue drew across her bottom lip. She pulled at Addison's shirt until her hand was fully under it and her palm was cupped around Addy's breast.