In the Fire's Shadow

3. The Portrait - Adara

I continued to stare back at him while a range of emotions played over his face: shock, confusion, annoyance, and finally resentment. Just as I thought, I had hurt him beyond repair.

It had always been easy with Tom. Ever since we were kids it'd been simple. This, however, wasn't going to be easy. I had no false illusions that trying to fix this would be, but after everything that happened that afternoon, I knew I needed to try.

"So, what am I expected to do now?" His voice was sarcastic and I felt my back stiffen against his insensitive response.

"I mean..." I was at a loss for words while trying very hard to ignore my stubborn nature. His rudeness automatically made me want to fight, so it took considerable effort not to. I tried to remind myself that he had every right to be just as angry as I did.

But he hadn't acted angry this entire time. In fact, he'd been rather mellow since it all began. So calm and collected. It felt like he didn't even miss Sam; like he had just let it all go; like he had let him go and let me go. Did we mean so little to him?

Do I mean so little to him?

"Adara, you really should go." He took another step down, further away from me.

"I'm trying to say something to you, damnit!" I felt heat filling my cheeks. His head jerked slightly at my outburst.

"I appreciate your apology, Adara, but I can't do this with you." He was apathetic again.

"Why not?"

He stood silent.

"What? You want to hate me? Go ahead! It's no more than I deserve, right? It's my fault! All of it! Is that why you 'can't' do this?!" I took a step closer to him so we were at eye level again.

"You don't know-" he had begun to say something, but I railroaded right over him.

"No! I do know! What makes you think I don't know? I know it's my fault, he's gone? I couldn't..." I was so angry I couldn't feel the tears spilling out of my eyes. I was having trouble forming my words, despite the fact I knew what I was trying to say. "I didn't know what to do, Tom! I couldn't function... I-I couldn't-"

He effectively silenced me by grabbing my face and crushing his lips on mine. I kept my hands by my side, and wasn't really kissing him back, mostly because it caught me off guard.

Then, I began to tremble.

When was the last time he kissed me like this? How could I have forgotten how he felt against me?

The anger I expected to find in his lips wasn't there. There was only hunger.

I put my hands on his shoulders, thinking I would push him away. Tom was so big compared to my 5'4, so when he didn't stop as I continued to push, I felt a small thrill. He had always been so gentle and considerate with me, but he wasn't stopping this time. He was kissing me, hard.

The muscles in his shoulders were rigid, and I was having trouble breathing. I couldn't get enough of him. I slid my hands up the sides of his neck and combed my fingers through his hair. He audibly groaned into my mouth and I pushed my hips against him while I pulled his face harder to me.

His tongue was warm against mine and the hunger grew. I twisted in his embrace to wrap my arms around his neck. His thick beard brushed against parts of my shoulder and face, sending shock waves across my skin, and I couldn't stop the small moan that escaped. I continued kissing him with the same amount of heat he was kissing me with.

I wanted him to forgive me. I needed him to forgive me. I couldn't seem to forgive myself. I wanted him to understand what I couldn't say. I needed him. Even if he didn't need me anymore, I needed him, like I needed air. The emptiness inside me was constantly aching, but after that afternoon, I gave myself room to wonder. I knew I would never be whole again, but maybe with Tom...