I would often fall into this strange, dream-like trance where I felt like I was living in a simulation.
I would be plagued with violent hallucinations and flashbacks that would meld with the real world around me, and I was often glad that I’d needed to separate myself from society.
It wasn’t safe for me to be around people when I was like that.
So, as the memories finally finished their run and Milo’s fluttering brown eyes focused behind his glasses, I was a mess inside.
‘I love you,’
Was that real?
If he loved me, how could he forget me?
Why would he leave me there?
I knew he was afraid… but to run away like that and leave me behind?
How could he wipe me away so easily and move on as if what we had never existed?
That wasn’t love.
Fake.
I watched his pupils dilate as he swam back up to the surface of his mind, and I lay the extractor down on the surgical table next to me.
“Hey,” I croaked, brushing his hair repeatedly back and away from his forehead, much the same way I had the first day we’d met—when I’d taken away that embarrassing memory of him in his high school cafeteria.
I flinched as I remembered that he’d tried to forget me then, too.
Was I just meant to be forgotten?
“J-jay?” he meeped, his voice small and hesitant.
He’d known I was Jay before he went under… Was thismyMilo? Or the one that had forgotten me?
“Yeah… do you… do you?—”
“Jayyyy.”His gorgeous brown eyes flooded with tears. They spilled over the constellation of freckles on his nose as he reached up and back for me.
With desperate fingers, he shoved my mask over the top of my head, and he choked on a desperate sob as he laid eyes on me for the first time since he’d wiped me from his mind.
“Jay, baby—fuck.”
Another curse from him… wow.
My lips barely had time to twitch before he was hooking his fingers into my jaw and pulling me down into an honest-to-god Spiderman kiss over the head of the chair.
The second our lips connected, he opened for me, sucking my bottom lip briefly before shoving his tongue directly into my mouth.
Igroanedas he threaded his fingers up into my hair, tugging desperately on my roots to force me even closer.
Confusing memories combined with a potent mix of emotion and need stormed through me as he rubbed his wet tongue sensually against mine.
His mouth was moving as he devoured me, like he was trying to speak but couldn’t bring himself to pull away long enough to get the words out.
My own hands began to wander, sliding across his tear-stained, cherubic cheeks, down his throat, and under the collar of his shirt.
Was this okay?
