Like I belonged here too.
Sadness cracked within the splinters of my heart.
"Tora. . ." Her name came out broken and so wrong. There was too much need bleeding through the syllables.
"Shh." She shifted closer, and slid her leg between mine. Then, she pressed her body along the length of me until there was no space left. No room for ghosts or the sounds of screams. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."
Her fingers moved from my jaw to my hair, threading through the strands. Her nails gently dragged against my scalp. The way my mother used to do when I was small and couldn't sleep. The memory surfaced unbidden, and with it came a pressure behind my eyes that I hadn't felt in years.
No. Stop. You can't. . .
"You don't have to be strong right now, Kenji. Not with me. Never with me."
Do not cry. If you start, you won't be able to stop. . .
"Whatever happened down there. . ." She pressed a kiss to my forehead. Tender. Loving. "Whatever you had to do. . ."
Another kiss, this one to the bridge of my nose. "It doesn't change how I feel about you."
My throat closed.
My chest seized.
The pressure behind my eyes became something sharper.
Hotter.
Demanding release.
Dragons don't cry. Dragons don't break. Dragons. . .
"I've got you," she whispered, and her arms wrapped around me, pulling my head down to the curve of her neck. "Let go, Kenji. I've got you."
I can't. I can't. If I let go, I'll fall apart completely. And then what sort of man would I be for her. . .If I let go. . .
"You're safe here."
Safe.
When was the last time I'd felt safe inthisway?
The very concept was foreign.
When was the last time anyone had held me like this—not because they wanted something, not because they feared me, but simply because they loved me?
My mother.
When I was a kid.
Before she became a ghost of herself.
Before the Fox hollowed her out and left nothing but an empty shell.
The pressure crested.
I buried my face in Nyomi's neck and breathed her in—black amber and ripe plum—and I let myself feel it.
All of it.
