Andanother.
“Oren, I swear to fuck, if you’ve done something idiotic, I’ll actually kick the shit out of you.”
Another thud followed by the splintering of wood, and then…footsteps.
I cried, a trickle of something wet flooding down my nose. Was I… bleeding?
Howderangeddid I have to be to hear his voice, his footsteps?
But then, somehow, some fucking way, there he was.
Kneeling in front of me, clad in a recruit’s uniform, he clenched his jaw. Bruises I’d inflicted marred his skin, and the vibrant sheen of gold that once occupied his irises was gone—snuffed out by my abuse. The strands of black that used to cover his forehead no longer remained, his hair shaved to a short buzz just as I’d ordered.
He’d obeyed every command.
“Oren,” he breathed, reaching for my face.
I flinched, pulling back as I sucked in a breath. “D-Don’t…”
He grabbed my hand, lifting it to his cheek as he held my watery gaze. “It’s me. You’re okay. It’s okay.”
At his words, another dam broke, tears flooding and mixing with the blood on my face. “No…no.” It was the only word I could muster. I was not fixable. I was not… not deserving of his care. I wasfarfrom okay.
His fingers curled around the back of my neck, and he tugged me into him before I could attempt to avoid his touch. The scent of pine devoured my senses—hisscent. “I’ve got you, love. I’ve got you.”
My arms wrapped around him, every inch of me shaking. “I’msorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m… I’m so sorry,” I wailed, clutching onto the back of his shirt, scared it was still a grand illusion meant to comfort me. An illusion I’d created to maintain my sanity.
“Shh…” he whispered, his lips gently grazing my neck. “You did what you had to do to survive, my dove. I get it. I fucking understand more than you realize, and I understood as soon as I woke up in that holding cell.”
“I-I didn’t! It wasmychoice. I’m fucking pathetic.”
“It was youronlychoice, becauseIleft you.” His admittance cracked something open in me. “God, I should’ve never left you… If anyone, if either of us is pathetic, it’sme.”
I shook my head, burying it further in his chest as I clung to him, afraid he’d leave. Afraid the broken aspects of my life had finally pushed everyone away. “I didn’t believe you. I-I never did. Fuck… Thorne, I’m awful. I don’t… don’t deserve anything.”
“That’s a fucking lie and you know it,” he muttered, his grip on the back of my neck tightening as he pulled me away from his warmth to look at him. Running his thumb across my forehead, he wiped away some of the crimson staining my skin. “You have an artist’s heart and a painter’s soul. You were never designed for war, for harshness and destruction. But you were alwaysdestinedto create, to heal, to breathe fucking life into the world; and that’s exactly what you did with me.
“You filled my lungs with oxygen to the point I finally understood what it was supposed to taste like, what it meant tolive.And in your graciousness, your gentleness, yourbeauty,I abandoned you amidst desolation—desolation a soul like yours was never meant to survive. You did with the horrors of this place what you could.”
I cried, the confession of his devotion, his utterlove,suffocating me. How had I ever been so foolish? How had I ever viewed him through the lens of my father? He was anything but pathetic. Anything but the weak, emotionless man whom I’d been made to believe he was.
What kind of artist couldn’t peel back the layers to unveil hidden beauty? What kind of artist wasIto ignore the paint strokes he’d layered to get me to understand him?
“In coming here, your father threw you an unfamiliar muse and tossed media at you that you never had the chance to wrap your fingers around.” His tongue brushed over his bottom lip as he reached down for my hand, only to bring it to his mouth to plant gentle kisses on each of my knuckles. “You created what you believed fit the medium, not because you wanted to, but because you had to. You’re not a failure, Oren. You’re not pathetic. You’re not worthless. You’re…you’re everything.”
“How can you say this to me?” Each kiss tore and repaired my heart, the knuckles I’d bruised him with now coated in his tender caress. “How can… how can you still look at me when I’ve caused you nothing but pain?”
“I can say it because, for the first time in my life, I think I’ve come to understand what love is—what itfeelslike. Even in the shadows of your soul, when I witnessed your darkness, all I saw was a man deserving a world he was never given. How could Inotlook at you as I do when I’m falling in love with you, Oren Valens?”
“I-I killed someone. I killed one ofyourmen.” I sobbed, his image playing in my mind on a broken loop. “He didn’t deserve it, and when I did it, I felt nothing. No remorse. What kind of person deserves love when they’ve done that?”
“I’ve killed many men without so much as batting an eye, men your father has ordered me to execute to prove my worth to him.” His already blood-soaked thumb brushed one of the many tears from my cheek. “Do you believe I am unworthy of love because of what I’ve done?”
“No,” I nearly shouted, shaking my head to emphasize that it wasn't true. “You deserve love, Thorne. You deserve everything because you’re a better man than me.” I leaned into his touch. “I don’t deserve anything from you, and yet… yet that’sallI want.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong, my dove. I am not a better man than you; we are simply two individuals crafted by the harshness of life, and we’ve done our damndest to survive its turbulent waters.” He gave me a saddened smile, holding me just a bit tighter. “If there were to be one thing I’d wish for, it would be for you to have even the slightest glimpse of how I see you.”
“Do you forgive me?” The phrase slipped past my lips, unable to be taken back. “I meant… I mean?—”
