But Too Well

XLIV : More

I CAN'T TELL you how long I spend there, in his arms. All I know is that I never want to leave.

The feeling of his bareness against me, a thin blanket tossed over us, is a reminder of the way we fit together, hot and tender and slow, and I don't need anything else.

My head rests against his shoulder and his fingers run lightly through my hair, and I hear his heart beating beneath my ear, strong and alive.

There was a time, long, long ago, where I thought maybe he didn't have one. But he does, and I can hear it, and it makes me feel like he is mine and I am his in the only way that possibly matters.

My lips brush against his skin when I speak. "Nero?"

"Mm?" He places a soft kiss to the top of my head.

As I breathe, the rise and fall of my chest matches his. I feel a strong, consuming emotion towards this man that I can't deny, not now, not after everything.

"You're gonna be okay, right?" He must hear the concern in my voice, the way that I care about his safety even though I have every reason not to. My small hands rest softly against his chest.

He rests his lips against my temple, brushing my hair back from my face. "Don't worry about me." There's a tenderness in his words that makes my heart ache.

"I can't help it."

I turn so we are nose to nose, and I can see the fine details of his long lashes, the smoothness of his skin and the softness, dark, in his eyes. My hand rests against his hip, he brings a finger up to touch my cheek, our breaths fill the small space between us, warm.

He looks like he is capable of no harm, and I should know better. I really should. But I don't.

After forever, he speaks, just a low breath. "I'm no good for you, dolcezza." His gaze is so incredibly bright, so gentle, so dark.

I lean into him and he leans into me and this feels too right to be wrong, too good to possibly be bad. "It's too late for that, Nero." Our lips almost touch. There isn't a part of me that doesn't want him. And he knows it, he knows.

That I'm ruined. And I don't care.

"I should stay away from you." He says it, but he doesn't move even an inch.

"I should stay away from you, too." There is no conviction. I bring my fingers up, push them gently into his hair, let the rise and fall of our chests match, beat for beat.

His eyes flutter shut, then mine. Neither of us is capable of pulling away, getting up and leaving, comprehending how this is just impossible. It feels too real. It fills every space, every piece of me, and I can't let go.

It feels like something needs to be said, something that can describe this. But there are no words to describe the heaviness, the magnetic energy that pulls us together and makes me want him and need him and makes him hold me, look at me, like I'm the only one he'll ever see.

There aren't any words.

So I just follow the heat that spreads from our heads to our toes, settles, tugging, between my legs.