The Soul Collector

Ch. Forty-Five

"I'd rather live with the pain, than die feeling nothing at all."

- Hudson Taylor

                                                                                     ***

With a long exhale, Galloway collapsed onto Sirius' chest, trying to catch her breath. Closing her eyes, she listened, then smirked at how hard his heart was beating. Endorphins rushing through her turned the smirk into a full-blown grin, then a small laugh.

Sirius ran a clawed hand down her back, making her shiver.

"What?" he asked.

Opening her eyes to realize that the sun had made a strong appearance while she'd been otherwise occupied, she rasped, "If I'd known what I was missing out on, I might not have been so damn stubborn about it."

His chest jerked as he laughed. "Yes you would have."

She snorted, shivering as cold air prickled at her sweaty skin, and leaned into the front seat. Sirius put a hand on her waist, keeping her from falling over as she snagged his shirt. After tugging it on, she folded forward again to rest her head right over his heart. 

With a deep sigh, he dragged his fingers through her tangled hair, the gentle tugging sensation inspiring another shudder. "What made you decide?" he asked.

Biting at the tender skin of her lower lip, she said, "I don't know."

"Yes you do," he rebuked. "You don't do anything unless you have a why."

She scoffed, tracing over a serpentine scar on his lower ribcage. Still feeling too good to actually be irritated, she said, "It was just what I'd told you earlier. Once Caleb brought up the possibility that I have to keep my Soul and that it needs to be marked instead of lost, then the fact that you can't leave a mark on my Soul, well..."

"Well what?" he asked.

She looked up. "Well, I didn't see the point in denying what I've wanted for... how long have we known each other?"

He tilted his head in consideration, then shrugged. "Year and change? I don't know, I don't really count by years anymore."

"Feels like longer," she muttered, laying her head back down. "Believe it or not, saying no was just as tiring as always hearing it."

Now he scoffed, but it didn't sound like he meant it, which surprised her. His tone so somber it was almost comical in comparison with how she was feeling, he said, "You know I meant everything I said last night, don't you?"

Swallowing against her suddenly dry mouth, Galloway sat back up to look at him. 

"It might not mean a whole lot," he said, gaze never wavering. "I'm not... I don't have any experience with actually caring about someone or," he released a reluctant breath, "anything. But for what it is or isn't worth, I do."

Carefully, he rolled them until she was looking up at him. He hovered over her, propped up on his elbows. There was a long moment of silence as he waited for an answer, then a small growl slipped between his teeth, making him grimace. Lowering his head until his mouth pressed into her collarbone, he muttered, "Just ignore me. I don't understand how this works."

Shaking herself out of her daze, she placed a hand against his cheek, making him look up. "I think I do know. It's just that it scares me."

He put his head down again, lips on her throat, the rest of his body pressing into hers and she suddenly hated that she'd decided to put his shirt on. Carding her fingers through his thick hair, she grimaced at the whip marks marring the skin of his back.