A desperate escape.
Higher and higher we go until the world fractures into a million points of light.A blinding, shattering release that leaves us utterly spent.
Utterly bare.
Utterly, devastatingly connected in this wreckage.
We lie tangled together, slick skin cooling slightly under the relentless spray of the shower.The sound of the water seems louder now against the sudden stillness.His weight is heavy, solid, grounding.His face is buried against my damp collarbone, his heart hammering a tattoo against my own.
Our breathing eventually slows.Matthew stirs, pushing himself up slightly, shifting his weight off me carefully but remaining poised above me.He reaches up wearily and twists the shower control.He looks down at me.His eyes still holding the deep shadows of grief and exhaustion, but that raw hunger has morphed into profound tenderness.His hand, still shaky, rises to brush a stray strand of hair back from my cheek.His touch is infinitely gentle against my skin.
He helps me sit up.Then, he gently takes my wrists, guiding my arms upward to loop around his neck.My forearms rest lightly on his broad, damp shoulders.He leans forward, wrapping his arms around my back, pulling me into a tight hug against his bare chest.I cling tighter, burying my face for a second against the slick skin of his shoulder.His face turns into my neck, his lips pressing softly to the sensitive skin just below my ear.A lingering kiss that pulls my eyelids shut against the electric shiver it sends down my spine.
Matthew rises smoothly, drawing me up with him until we stand facing each other.He reaches for the large towel hanging on a hook nearby.My palms slide to his chest.He lifts the towel to my soaked hair.As his fingers gently work the terrycloth against my scalp, tingles trail in their wake.He gathers my long strands and carefully squeezes the water out.Using just a corner of the towel, he gently blots the droplets from my face.
Over my eyelids.
Across my lips.
My breath catches when he drops to his knees.His head bows for a moment before looking up at me, his eyes shining with unmistakable gratitude.He takes the bottom edge of the towel.Starting at my ankles, he begins to draw the thick fabric upward.His gaze follows the path of the towel, focused, intense.
Over my calves.
Over my knees.
When he glides it over my thighs and higher over my hips, a soft gasp escapes me.My knees buckle, my hands coming up to grip his damp shoulders for balance.His hands falter.His eyes lift, meeting mine for a charged second before he rises slowly to his full height.The towel continues upward over my stomach, my breasts, my collarbone, finally reaching my neck.He gently dries the skin there, then uses the corner again to softly dry beneath my eyes, his thumb brushing away a stray tear I didn’t even realize had fallen.
He just looks at me.His eyes convey everything words cannot.
He breaks the intense gaze, running the towel briskly over his own hair and body before letting it drop to the floor.He ducks his head slightly, sliding one strong arm beneath my knees, the other wrapping securely around my back.He lifts me as if I weigh nothing, cradling me against his chest.I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face against the curve of his shoulder.
He carries me out of the steamy bathroom, steps steady across the plush carpet.Toward his bed.
Not the guest room.
His own bed.
He lowers me gently onto the cool, soft sheets of the unmade mattress.Its yielding softness is a welcome relief after the hard tiles.He reaches for the heavy duvet and draws it up over me, carefully tucking it around my body.
A weary sigh escapes him, a sound that seems to come from his very soul, and he sinks onto the mattress beside me.He lies on his side, facing me.His eyes hold mine.In their depths, I see it all.
The shared trauma.
The raw vulnerability.
The fragile, undeniable connection forged between us in the storm.
Wordlessly, he pulls me gently against his side, his arm settling protectively around my waist.My head finds the hollow of his shoulder.I feel the slow, steady beat of his heart beneath my ear, a calming rhythm syncing with my own slowing pulse in the quiet darkness.
Absolute exhaustion takes over.
I drift off to sleep, held in the arms of the man who met my fractured soul with his.And in this collision, began to make me whole.
THIRTY NINE
SOFTNESS BENEATH ME.Smooth sheets against my bare skin.The comforting weight of a heavy duvet.
My eyelids feel thick.I blink, opening them slowly, adjusting to the muted morning light filtering through the blinds, painting pale stripes across an unfamiliar ceiling.
