The Ether touches him—wraps around his arm, brushes his face. And something happens.
His shoulders drop. His breathing changes. Like whatever's been eating at him just... eased.
When I finally turn around, his eyes look different. Open. Like the Wes I remember before everything got complicated.
"I saw the way they looked at you," I say. The words just come out.
He shakes his head. "I didn't want them."
"I know." My throat feels tight. "But I hated it anyway."
He takes a step closer. Not touching. Just closer.
"Why?" His voice is soft.
I don't know how to answer that. Don't understand the ugly feeling that twisted in my chest when that woman touched his arm. When people started following him with their eyes like he was something they could have.
"I don't know," I admit. "It just felt wrong. Like they didn't... like you weren't..."
"What?"
I step closer. Look up at him. His pupils are wide and dark and I can feel the heat coming off his skin.
The words are right there. Waiting. And I know I shouldn't say them.
"It felt like you were mine," I whisper.
I shouldn't say that. But it's true.
The words surprise me anyway. I didn't mean to say them. Didn't even know I was thinking them.
But they're true.
"If you don't want this," he says carefully, "stop me now."
My heart is beating so fast I can hear it in my ears. I reach up, touch his face. His skin is warm and real and right there.
"Then don't make me decide."
He kisses me.
And it's nothing like I expected. Nothing like the careful, gentle way people have touched me before. This is desperate and hungry and it makes something in my chest crack open and bleed and heal all at once.
His mouth moves against mine like he's been starving for this, like I'm the only thing that can fill the emptiness inside him. I gasp against his lips and he deepens the kiss, one hand tangling in my hair while the other presses against my lower back, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us.
I feel it as the Ether explodes around us, silver and bright and celebrating, wrapping us in light that makes everything feel sacred. I can taste his need, his relief, his hunger finally finding something that feeds it instead of hollowing him out.
My fingers fist in his shirt and I pull him down to me, wanting more, needing more. He responds by pressing me back against the door, his body warm and solid and perfect against mine. When his teeth graze my bottom lip, I make a sound I've never made before—desperate and wanting and completely his.
This is what was missing in the forest. This recognition. This feeling of coming home to something I didn't know I'd lost.
This is Wes.
My Wes.
He kisses me like he's trying to memorize the taste of me, like he's afraid I'll disappear if he stops. His thumb traces the line of my jaw and I shiver, pressing closer, wanting to crawl inside his skin and live there.
When we break apart, I can't breathe. My lips feel swollen and my whole body is buzzing and he's looking at me like I'm something precious.
