So, he was fine…and she was…well, she was surviving.
She had a new job, a new apartment, good friends, and a wonderful family. She should be counting her blessings. And yet, all she felt was the void in the centre of her existence. A Kabir shaped void.
She took a deep breath, rummaging through her purse for her keys as she turned onto the narrow street leading to her apartment building. The cold nipped at her cheeks, the wind carrying the faint scent of roasted chestnuts from the vendor on the corner. Her fingers finally closed around the cool metal of her key ring, and she pulled it out with a small sigh of relief.
She looked towards her apartment and froze. A familiar pair of boots sat on the bottom step. Scuffed leather, worn at the edges, the kind of boots she’d seen pacing countless dressing rooms and studio floors.
Her heart did a strange little hop, recognising what her mind was struggling with. Her gaze drifted upward, almost afraid to look but utterly powerless to stop.
Familiar comfortable boots, showcased long, denim-clad legs stretched out in front of him. A black cashmere sweater pulled tight across shoulders she knew far too well. And then…Him.
Kabir.
Her breath caught, the cold forgotten, the key digging into her palm as the world narrowed to the man she’d been trying and failing not to think about.
He looked tired, bone-deep tired. His gaunt face, the hollowed-out cheeks, the bruised shadows smudged under his eyes, all of it hit her at once, a sharp, twisting pinch straight to her heart. He’d lost weight. Too much. His clothes hung looser on him, hisshoulders sloped, like exhaustion had carved pieces out of him she didn’t know how to put back.
He sat on the stairs leading up to her apartment building, elbows resting on his knees, long fingers loosely interlaced as though even his hands didn’t have the strength to hold on to anything anymore.
And yet, his gaze, tired though it was, lifted the second she appeared.
He didn’t blink, didn’t look away, didn’t even try to hide how she was the only thing he could see.
His eyes, sunken, weary, but unmistakably him, locked on her face with a focus that made her breath catch. He looked wrecked. He looked like hell. He looked like he’d been waiting for her.
“Hi Bug.”
The words were quiet and hesitant, unsure of his welcome. But they’d barely left his lips before she was running. Kabir rose to his feet and caught her as she hurled herself into his arms, holding her with a force that bordered on fierce, a ragged breath escaping him.
He held her tight, so tight. Almost like he was afraid she might vanish if he loosened his grip even an inch. She buried her face against his neck, breath hot with emotion, fingers fisting in the back of his sweater anchoring herself in his solid warmth.
Bit by bit, awareness seeped back into her, bringing a faint flush to her cheeks. She was wrapped around him like out of control tinsel, arms around his neck, legs braced against him, face tucked into his shoulder.
She tried to step back, to regain some semblance of composure, but Kabir’s fingers snagged in the fabric of her coat, tugging her closer with a low, involuntary sound. He wasn’t letting go for even a moment.
“Inside,” she murmured, breathless, sliding her hand down to find his. Their fingers tangled instantly, naturally, like they’d both forgotten how to not reach for each other. She pulled him with her into the warm foyer.
He followed silently, gaze sweeping over everything, cataloguing her life here. They climbed the stairs to the third floor. Tani unlocked the door, pushed it open, and ushered him in.
The moment she shut it, he was on her.
Her back hit the wood with a soft thud, his body pressing into hers, heat and muscle and desperation bracketing her in. She barely had time to gasp before his mouth found hers, hot, fierce, and consuming.
He kissed her like she was oxygen, like she was redemption, like she was the only thing standing between him and the darkness he’d been drowning in.
Her handbag slipped from her shoulder, thudding to the floor, forgotten. Her hands rose automatically, instinctively, threading into his hair, clutching him close as she kissed him back with everything she had, relief, longing, anger, love all tangled into something wild and unstoppable.
For the first time, neither of them held anything back.
“Tani,” he whispered against her lips, his voice hoarse with need. “We need to talk.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.” He buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing her in.
Her hand went to the back of his head, slipping through his hair and cradling him to her. “Can it wait?”
He pulled back a little to smile ruefully at her. “No, I don’t think it can.”
