WHERE TO NOW? (M/M) 18+

Chapter 39

The Weight of Water

Damien stared at me, his eyes wandering down my face as I rubbed at my eye. His lips were parted, letting out a sigh before his eyes turned up to the ceiling. “I'm fine,” he said.

I didn't believe him.

“Does your back hurt?” I asked, lacing my fingers together. I stretched my arms up above my head, trying to get the stiffness out of my back.

I looked over at Damien when he didn't answer me. He was staring at me again, his jaw was clenched and eyes slipping down my form. When he reached my hips, he swallowed deep, his lips parting before his eyes darted up to mine.

When our eyes met, he turned away from me, “it's just sticking” he said, his gaze drifting back up to the ceiling.

I was still upset, still mad about everything between us but my god that look, Jesus Christ.

I knew straddling him right now was not the answer to my problems, but I don't know, having this hunky, brooding, drop dead fucking gorgeous specimen of a man underneath me didn't sound so intimidating right now.

Usually I'd be freaked about the idea. The thought of having him anywhere on me… touching me… it would send nerves ripping down my skin. The thought of Damien flushed and ready to fuck… Fuckkk, I'd stumble over myself just thinking about it.

I swallowed the saliva that seemed to pool in my mouth at the thought. Now wasn't the time. We still had a lot to figure out, even if he did just come back from the dead.

But seeing him now, after everything, I couldn't help but want to be close to him,  to touch him and show him how much I'd missed him. Having him back, it put things into perspective. It changed things. For me at least…

But he was still the same, I knew he was. He didn't have to endure watching me suffer like I had too, he didn't have to wonder if I'd come back. It was only natural we weren't on the same page, and we'd need to talk about that when he was feeling better.

But that wouldn't be now, not while his eyes were fixed on the ceiling with that burning, dark gaze, a half-hearted attempt to distract himself from my presence…

I, unfortunately, wasn't so lucky. I couldn't ignore him, no, he was always there, in my mind or in front of me, either one. Always a constant.

I wanted to tell him that if I could, show him, but I knew we needed to talk. To figure everything out before I got ahead of myself but I couldn't deny the spark I felt sizzling through my veins. A pull, a magnetism unlike anything I'd ever felt before dragging me closer to him.

He was still stronger than I was, even in this state. He could manage his thoughts and settle his mind, I didn't have such restraint. I liked the way he watched me. I missed it. The way his eyes trailed over my body like I was the only art piece worth exhibiting. But now he wouldn't look at me, avoiding my eyes and attention all together as he stared up at the pale white ceiling, but I could still see the struggle there, the need.

I needed to get off this bed, otherwise I'd force those brown eyes to look at me, to show me just how dark his thoughts could get.

I threw my legs off the side, and I heard him let out a deep exhale. I turned back to look at him, and found him pinching between his eyes.

“What's wrong?” I asked.

He didn't say anything, but I noticed the way he gritted his teeth with my question. Was his back hurting that much, even with the painkillers?

The guilt came crashing into me again, the realisation that this was all my fault. My chest became tight as the air struggled to escape my lungs. I gritted my teeth as my eyes fell away from him, closing as I said “I'm so sorry” with a small shake of my head.