Gabriel falls back against the pillows, resting his hands behind his head. His dark eyelashes tangle together as he opens his mouth to sing. I’ve never heard this song before – it feels old, baked into the stones of this room and all the bloodshed it’s seen. The lyrics drip with sadness and longing. Gabriel’s voice rings bitter and lost, as he uses the only language he knows to deal with his feelings about the disease that took one father from him and will soon claim another.
There’s a small tin whistle on the nightstand. Gabriel rubs away the dust on the bedspread and brings the mouthpiece to his lips, transforming his words into a haunting melody that sends shivers over my skin. When Gabriel trails off the final note into haunting silence, I bring my hand to my cheek. It’s wet with tears.
“Did Liam take all those pictures on the walls downstairs?” I ask.
Gabriel shakes his head. “The duchess did.”
I pull back, surprised. I can’t imagine that cold woman taking an interest in her son. I wonder how she fits into his story.
“I nearly killed her,” Gabriel says. “I was a big baby. I tore all kinds of things coming out. The doctors told her she’d never have another child. Even in the womb I still managed to fuck things up for everyone.”
“You can’t blame yourself.”
“Why not? Everyone else loves doing it,” Gabriel sighs. “She wasn’t always so weak. That’s what being married to a man like the duke for twenty years will do to you. She used to be an artist, a nature photographer. She even exhibited in the Royal Gallery. My father made her give it up. He made her givemeup. Bit by bit he worked away at her until she became that shell of a person you met downstairs, the one who only cares about money and status and comfort. But she used to be someone special – she saw something in me from a young age, some spark of her artistic talent, I guess. She took me to lessons – music and sculpture and painting with her bohemian friends – and encouraged Liam to play his folk songs and rock music for us. I even did ballet for a while. My father put a stop to that. Not masculine enough, apparently, although prancing around with those ridiculous fencing foils is just fine and dandy by him.”
The words come out in a garbled rush – as if the song has shaken loose the guilt and hope and longing that’s bound Gabriel’s wings. I have so many questions, but I let Gabriel talk. I’ve never seen him so raw and honest.
Except… that’s not true. The Gabriel I see now is the one who steps on stage. As he tells me these stories of his family, I realize I’ve heard them all before. They’re hidden in his lyrics – the pieces of himself he flays from his skin so his fans can find their solace in his blood.
“I wanted to play the guitar ever since Liam first played me the Pogues and the Boomtown Rats, but the duke forbade it. The duchess bought me an instrument in secret, but she made me hide it away in one of the outbuildings where he’d never know about it. You know the band we had at homecoming, Broken Muse? The cellist with the cornrows, Titus, he used to do the same thing. He learned the cello because his parents are famous in the classical music scene, and they wanted him to become their legacy. It was only in meeting his girlfriend, Faye, that he found the strength to claim his own voice. He says he doesn’t want to hide anymore.”
“But you’ve never been afraid to be yourself.” Tears fall thick and fast now. “You sing your truth every night on stage. You sang to me on my darkest nights. I survived because of you.”
“That’s not true. You survived because of you. I’m still hiding. I’m always hiding. Being a rockstar is no different from being a duke’s ungrateful son, and now I’m not even that.” Gabriel’s fingers clasp the bedspread. “I’m hiding in Emerald Beach, the way I used to hide in the music, and the drugs and alcohol I needed so I could make it on stage to play those songs. But when I’m around you… I don’t want to hide anymore.”
“So don’t.” My voice is husky.
The air in the room shifts, becomes heavy.
He pulls me on top of him. His lips find mine, his kiss hot and needy. His hands find my hips, the fingers sliding under my shirt to touch fire against my skin.
Gabriel has always given me what I need. All those nights alone when I needed a friend, his voice – hispain– was with me. When I needed someone to take my virginity, he made sure it was a beautiful dream. When I needed him to step up, he reined in his demons. Now, he needs me. His whole bodytrembleswith need of me.
I slide my hands under his fencing shirt, peeling off the sleeves and leaning back to revel in his inked chest. I trace the lines of his tattoos – stories of myth and legend that inspire his music. The butterflies around his neck shift as he breathes hard, staring up at me as if he can’t believe I’m real.
He’s so beautiful.
He watches as I shove off my own clothes and climb back on top of him. The bed creaks. I shove his trousers and boxers over his hips. His cock springs free, that glorious piercing glinting in the dim light. I grip the brass headboard and grind my hips down onto him, sheathing him inside me. This room and these memories have undone him, and I know what he needs to put himself back together, to remind him that he’s Gabriel fucking Fallen and he doesn’t need to hide.
He stares up at me as I slam myself down on him – his eyes wide open, worshipful. My heart swells in my throat. In this place where he first sang the stars, Gabriel has given me more of himself than I ever could have hoped. The melody of Liam’s song swells through my head as I grind against him – our song now, a new chapter. A future.
A strangled sound escapes his mouth as he bucks his hips to meet me, thrust for thrust. His piercing rubs me in the perfect place, and even though this is about him and what he needs, I feel an orgasm building fast inside me. His eyes remain locked on mine, those pagan fires burning bright.
“I love you,” he whispers, before his mouth quirks and his body tightens.
I love you.
I love you.
My throat closes. The last person who said those words to me was my father. Loving me gets people killed, and Gabriel is too much, too precious, too broken already for the world I’m dragging him into. But I’m lost in his eyes, and there’s no way I can lie to him. I’m weak. I can’t let him go.
My nails dig into his shoulders as the orgasm slams into me. “I love you, too.”
Is it the truth? I’ve lived with lies so long I’m not sure I can tell anymore. But the words fall from my tongue as my body comes undone and it feels as though the whole universe has shifted. As though Gabe and I have created something new.
We lay in the bed together until the sunset burns orange flame and stars pirouette across the skylight. Gabriel plays more of Liam’s songs on the whistle, his eyes never leaving my face. We hold each other and talk and kiss until I can barely keep my eyes open.
As I step back down the ladder to head to my actual bed, I notice Gabriel slip the whistle into his pocket.
