Arrow chooses that moment to move away from the pillow and get up in my face. Not only that, his hands on my ass become brutalizing.
So deliciously brutalizing – despite the heaviness of the situation – that I have to arch up my back and hold onto his shoulders to keep myself balanced.
“Sarah,” he bites out, staring so harshly into my eyes that it makes me catch my breath, “doesn’t understand. She doesn’t have the capability to understand how someonenotlike her can be so fucking magnificent. How someone not like her can fly on legs and flow through spaces and shine through cracks. She doesn’t understand how someonenotlike her, someone who doesn’t follow the rules, someone who makes her own rules, can bend the direction of a river when all she’s done her entire life is trying to flow with it. And what she doesn’t understand, scares the fuck out of her.”
His fingers dig and dig into my flesh until I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my moan inside. Until I feel my eyes welling up.
But that could also be because… he’s said something that I never thought before.
I never thought that about myself before.
I always knew that I wasn’t perfect and I was okay with it, but I never thought that I could… do all those things that he just mentioned.
All those fantastical, magical things and…
God.
“Doyouunderstand that?” he asks, his teeth gritted, the veins on his neck standing out.
I swallow, trying to control all my emotions.
All the raging, burning emotions.
I guess…
I guess I was wrong.
All this time I thought that he needed me. But I needed him too.
To tell me. To say wonderful things to me.
A thick stream of tears still spills out, which makes him go tight.
Tighter than before.
“What the fuck?” he asks, in total disbelief that I’m crying.
He’s watching me with total disbelief too.
In fact, his hands are gone from my ass and have come up to my face, where he’s wiping the tears and going, “What…”
Grabbing his wrists, I shake my head as more tears fall. “N-no. It’s not…” I wave a hand in front of my face and take deep breaths. “I’m not… crying. Like, I’m not sad. I’m happy. These are happy tears.”
He watches me for a beat, his hands still on my cheeks. “You cry when you’re happy.”
“Yeah.” I nod and his expression is so bemused and adorable that I let out a broken laugh. “I also dance at sad songs.”
He opens and closes his mouth, totally confused.
I lean over and kiss him on the lips. “My favorite is Lana Del Rey.”
“Who the fuck is that?”
“I’ll play you some songs. She’s the goddess of sad love songs.”
“I’ll take your word for it.”
I kiss his cheek while he’s still wiping off my tears. “And I like empty ruined bridges.”
