BLACK

(43) Bloodshed

EDITED

"Noire."

I only stared at him from the shadows, immobile. Aris had ransacked the house like he knew I was here, but from my break in I got the impression he didn't live here anymore. When he first entered, I was scared and full of regret. I hid behind the cupboards with my hands over my mouth, waiting. Courage slowly pushed me forward each passing second until Aris has finished, and I could see him rather than a racing shadow.

"Noire," Relief floods his voice.

Aris takes another step into the kitchen, unveiling his skin in the moonlight from the window. The sight makes my insides squeeze. My stomach churns at the sight, at his scars layered with new ones that well up on both sides of his face.

My feet keep me cemented by the corner, unable to move. I was holding my breath again. Aris wasn't alive in my mind. Last time I saw him he was a breathless, bloody corpse on the North highway. He has a limp in his step as he reaches me. I open my mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. His hand brushes over my shoulder, finding my hair with a frown on his face. I try to squeak out his name again, gasping for breath from my closed lungs. His whole hand rests on my shoulder, his body heat settling into me like a needle full of heroin. The weights on my body fall off and I spring up, wrapping arms around him everywhere I could. He's so tall, my forehead barely meeting his collarbone, but he leans down to engulf me as well.

"Noire, you're real. You're here. I'm not hallucinating. Say something."

I jump under his touch, having not felt the familiar and soothing heat of his contact in so long. My arms brought him in closely from around his neck, my feet on their very edge for height. "I thought you were dead." Shock covered my voice until it was a whisper, barely audible.

His hands moved all over my body, applying more pressure consistently until we were right up against each other. "Why would you think that?"

I pulled my head away from his shoulder so I could speak clearly. "The night I got taken," His arms strained impossibly tighter. "I got out of the car and tried to stop the bleeding. Your entire neck and chest had been gauged, you weren't breathing."

I can feel his anger stir slightly through our bond. "Somebody attacked me as a warning."

My hand smoothed over his scarred cheek from his shoulder. "You don't look the same. In a good way."

His head slightly shakes. "Only you, Noire. Only you."

"Well I know the real you," I bite my lip as I say this.

Do I?

"I know you do," Aris tells me. "And that's why I want to be myself with you."

"Aris, I—" My forehead scrunches up.

His head dipped, making the move to kiss me, but he doesn't. Immediately my heart rate spikes, chest thudding so loudly I could only hear it. As he stays just centimeters above me, I wet my lips in anticipation. My eyes are half closed, not wanting to address what's actually happening. Aris always rejects me. He won't kiss me. He won't kiss me.

He won't—

He kissed me. My hands slip forward into his curls, brushing them as far away from his face as I could. My lips slowly pressed back against his, but he wouldn't do anything more than gentle. Every cell in my body began buzzing with energy, radiating lust only for him. Nine years. Almost ten. And this is the first time he kisses me. Each time Aris tries to pull away, I bring his head back down and lock my lips with him again.