OUR LIFETIME « Pietro Maximoff

35 /| bars and sports cars pt. 2

warning: explicit sexual content

•.* [chapter thirty-five]

*•*.*•.

IT WAS A LONG TIME time before she spoke again. "This world is in ruins and no matter who's to blame, there's work to be done, and I'm going to be there to help, regardless of what you think."

"You have a duty to yourself first." He was standing too still. She still wasn't used to it—to him. "You don't owe anyone anything."

There was something in his voice. Something jagged and broken. It cut through her easily, leaving her floundering for purchase. Her eyes darted to him. He stood there in a simple dark t-shirt and jeans. His forehead was wrinkled in concern, and his gaze had not strayed away from her.

"There's too much that you don't understand," she told him. She stood, turning away from him once more, and began to undress. She peeled her jacket, shirt, and bra away leaving her skin bare from the top up. Her jeans, socks, and underwear quickly followed. Once it was all in a heap near her feet, she dipped one foot into the tub, found purchase, and then the rest of her body followed. Still facing away from Pietro, she sat in the tub, allowing the warmth to sink down to her bones. She moaned quietly and felt her eyes shut as the water calmed her, tears forgotten.

Pietro's voice came from much nearer when he spoke again. She didn't bother to look at him.

"You are hurting, my love," he muttered. She felt his fingertips brush her cheek. Her eyes flew open to find him kneeling beside the tub, his hand reaching out to her. There was a look of longing in his expression. His eyes were almost black. Sorrow emanated from him. "What more is there to understand?"

Without even noticing, Savannah had leaned into his touch. This was still the man she loved. This was still the man who took care of her and kept her going. They just couldn't agree on this. Not today.

The truth was that Savannah would hurt until the day she died. Her fate had been sealed the moment she signed her life away to that stone.

Pietro, however, was a gift that she had no idea how to cherish anymore, but she would try. She just couldn't lose him. His sentiments from a few months ago rang loudly in her mind. He would not let her personal sorrow drag him back to a place he'd fought so hard to get out of.

Her eyes didn't leave his. There was something electric between them. There had been since the day they'd met seven years ago. They'd both changed and they'd both lost, but his touch still managed to send her heartbeat into a bout of stutters.

His hand slid behind her neck, and he tugged her forward a bit while leaning in himself. Their foreheads met over the side of the bathtub, their eyes falling shut.

"I can't lose you," he whispered, echoing her unsaid thoughts. His words got caught somewhere in the breath they shared. He smelled of orange starbursts and cloves. "Not again."

Savannah didn't tell him that he wouldn't lose her. She didn't tell him that she was sorry, and she didn't tell him that she was ready to heal. Savannah merely kissed him, her lips brushing his gently.

The slight pressure of his soft lips was familiar and he tasted as sweet as he always did.

For a moment their eyes met. Desire burned brightly between them. Savannah could feel it in her stomach. She pressed her breasts against the side of the tub in an effort to get closer to him. Without much fanfare, their lips met again.