I shrug, trying to brush it off like the praise doesn’t matter.
“Do you still write?” she asks.
“No,” I say, my eyes drifting back to the unfinished words on the wallpaper. “I haven’t had any inspiration since high school.”
We had finished the dialogue between Hades and Persephone that day, but neither of us really pushed it the way we wanted. That’s why the inscription on the wall remains incomplete. It still feels like something is missing.
“Every time I read it, I know it’s incomplete,” I admit. “I need us to finish it.”
Lauren crosses her arms, suddenly without the usual cushion of a tablet or notebook to hide behind. “I don’t know, Silas. You were so inspired that day. I think you’re more than capable of finishing it on your own.”
I mimic her stance, crossing my arms as we both stare at the wall. The silence hangs for a moment. “Maybe I was just waiting for you to come back into my life to do it,” I say, my voice quieter, more honest than I intended. “I need inspiration.”
Lauren doesn’t respond right away, and I wonder if I’ve said too much, but I can feel the weight of her gaze. We both know what I’m talking about—it’s not just about the dialogue anymore.
Suddenly, she opens her mouth and starts to sing, her words almost poetic. “What does the king of the underworld seek? He already has it all: the kingdom, the power, the wealth,” she says, staring intently at the inscription.
“This king is far from having it all, goddess of spring, and perhaps he's realized it too late in this life. But if you let me make up for lost time, maybe I can make amends for past mistakes.” The green eyes I've dreamed of since the first time I saw her look at me intently. I take her hands and intertwine our fingers. “Give the king of the dead a chance, goddess of spring. I promise not to destroy your blossoming.”
I take a step closer. I place a hand under her chin, lifting it so she looks at me. “Let me make up for all the times I trampled your flowers in the field.” My lips brush against hers, just needing her to go with it.
Lauren licks her lower lip, and her tongue seems to taunt me. “Alright, king, but ...”
I kiss her lips without wasting a second. A kiss so desperate that breathing becomes secondary. My hands cradle her face while my body tries to envelop her with my warmth. This kiss isunlike any we've shared before. Here, she kisses me with fire; her hands wrap around my neck and pull me closer. She touches me. She clings to me with the same desperation I've always felt for her.
When I kissed Lauren in high school, it felt wrong, like I had taken something I didn't deserve. But now? Now it feels like she's here with me, wanting me as much as I want her. My heart races, aware of what's happening.
“Silas” she moans against my lips, sending jolts straight to my cock.
God, my heart is beating too fast.
Thump, thump, thump.
My hand moves under the T-shirt I gave her last night—it's hers forever now—and I caress the skin of her back. Her tongue is soft against mine, velvety and perfect. She tastes like need, warmth, and a promise.
Mine.
Thump, thump, thump.
Damn it, heart, not now!
I ignore my racing pulse and claim her mouth. I've never moaned while kissing; I've never felt this frenzy.
Thump, thump, thump.
“Agh!” I cry out, feeling my chest tighten uncontrollably.
She pulls away because she knows she's the one causing this.
“No, come back here,” I groan, clutching my chest as if it's about to split open.
“Silas, breathe, try to calm down,” she says, but her voice sounds farther away with each word. “Remember to breathe, Silas ...”
“Thanks for coming, Mike.”
You’ve got to be kidding me.
Can’t a guy just collapse in peace without this doctor showing upagain? Now he’s inmy house,in the guest room where I was about to?—
