Planet Omega

Chapter 15

 Emma's footsteps are heard almost immediately, and the door slides open soon after. I'd almost hoped she wouldn't open the door.

But she stands there, wide-eyed, wringing her hands in obvious worry. I want to tell her that she's an idiot for giving even a single shit about me. I want to say that I'm just not worth that fuss.

I want to tell her that she's the only thing that keeps me sane and alive. That when I'm with her, my anger fades away into background noise. That I feel her under my skin when I'm asleep at night, and that she haunts my memories at the worst of time. It would be the most honest I've ever been with her.

Her eyes dart briefly to my arm, and I know she's checking to see if I'm still bleeding as much as I was earlier. The torn piece from my shirt is neatly wrapped around my wound, but the bleeding did eventually stop. Then, she meets my gaze again, silently, wordlessly.

Her lips move slightly, like she wants to say something, ask me something, and I can't help but watch them. She doesn't say what she wants to say, and presses her lips in a firm line. There's no anger in her features, no confusion, or even disgust with my actions from earlier in the day. She just looks...worried. Concerned. Like she wants so badly to reach out to me because that'll give her even a little peace of mind.

"Cal," Emma finally says, her voice soft, like a breeze gliding over my skin.

Hearing my name on her lips like that makes me take a shaky breath. I'm a piece of shit, and I know it. And I'll get better about it eventually. But tonight, I'm just so tired, exhausted from pretending like everything is okay most of the time. It's not. I know it, and Emma knows it.

So why lie any further?

I step up into Emma's train car, and she hardly steps back to make room for me. Her concerned brow relaxes as she looks up at me, so close that I'm positive she can hear my heart beating.

"Cal, I-"

She doesn't finish because I close the small gap between us and press my lips to hers. My chest explodes with emotion, and we step in sync farther into her train car. I bring my hands to either side of her face and kiss her like my very life depends on it, because right now, it probably does.

All I can think about is Emma. She consumes me, the air I breathe, oozing out of every pore along my skin. I don't just want her, I need her. I need her in the way my very human lungs need oxygen to breathe, or the way a fire needs fuel to keep burning. Every cell in my body is on fire.

And when I pull away slightly despite my mental protest, my lips still brushing against hers, I pause. I freeze, because of what I've just done. My gaze lifts to meet her eyes, and I can hear her breathing heavily. "I'm sorry," I whisper on her lips.

I'm sorry for never appreciating you. I'm sorry for being a problem you have to keep fixing. I'm sorry you deviated from your original plans for me. I'm sorry I'm a danger to you all. I'm sorry for treating you like you don't matter to me.

I'm sorry for kissing you.

"I'm not."

And with those two words, she snakes her fingers into my hair to push us close together, before crashing her lips against mine.

It's different from the more tentative first kiss that caught Emma slightly off guard. There's nothing tentative about our movements now, about the way she desperately drinks me in. The way her other hand moves from the small of my back up to my neck under my hair. Or how her fingers, once tangled in my hair, are now digging in my waist, holding me against her.

There's no stopping a waterfall from falling over the edge of a cliff. There's no halting a wildfire set on consuming everything in its path. There's only falling into it, letting it happen, grateful for every curve, every touch, every second her lips are on mine.