“You did,” she whispers.
“That’s different,” I growl.
“How?”
“Because I’m the one who’s supposed to bleed,” I snap louder than I mean to.
Her eyes widen.Tears fall.She pulls back like she’s been hit.
Fuck.
I drag both hands over my face, breath shaking as I try to reel myself in.
Then she says, voice trembling, “I remembered something.”
I freeze.
She leans closer, her forehead brushing mine, her hands sliding to cradle my jaw so I can’t look away.
“You told me,” she whispers, “that once you fall you don’t stop.”
My heart detonates inside my chest.
“I remember you,” she continues, voice breaking.“I remember us.Not everything.But enough to know I loved you.I know you loved me.Even without the words.”
I shake my head sharply, pain lancing through me.“Sunshine.”
She holds tighter.“Ledger.Don’t lie.”
My voice cracks.“I’m not lying.”
Terrified.Exposed.Split open by her memory and her tears and her voice sayingloved,past tense, like I’m something she survived.
“I tried not to,” I force out, every syllable scraping against my throat.“I tried not to fall for you.”
Her breath shivers.“Why?”
“Because look at you.”I run a trembling hand down her arm.“You’re light.And warmth.And comfort.And sweetness.And hope.You’re all the good and easy in life and baby, I’m a mess inside.”
Her lashes lower, tears slipping down her cheeks.
My voice drops to a brutal whisper.“I’m violence.I’m danger.I’m darkness.I didn’t want my world to damper your light.”
She shakes her head.“You don’t get to decide that alone.”
“I had to.”I swallow hard.“Because the second I let myself feel something real, the second I admitted what you were to me, you got hurt.”
A broken exhale leaves her lungs.“Riot.”
“I can’t do it again,” I rasp.“I can’t lose you again.Not to a truck.Not to a man with a mask.Not to a damn memory loss.Not to my mistakes.”
Her hands tremble against my skin.I breathe her in, all the fear, adrenaline, tears, and the feelings of survival wrapped in someone I never should’ve touched but did anyway.
“Look at me,” she whispers.
I do.
“I didn’t remember you this morning.”Her voice breaks but she keeps going.“But my body did.”
