The faintest creak in the living room made me jump.
Ocean walked in, clothes drenched from the sudden downpour that was taking place outside. His eyes were dark and stormy.
I didn’t even think. I launched myself across the room and threw my arms around him. “Ocean,” I whispered. “What did you do?”
He didn’t flinch at my panic, didn’t pull away from my shaky hands gripping his shirt. Instead, he held me, pressed me close, and let me bury my face into his chest. “Handled,” he said softly. “Never have to talk about him again. Ever.”
I wanted to protest and dig into the anger I’d imagined he’d unleashed, but something in the way his hands were on my back, told me to just let it go.
We stayed like that for a long time, the silence of the early morning wrapping around us like a cocoon. When I finally let him pull back, I noticed the blood stains smeared into his clothing.
“You need to get cleaned up,” I whispered.
“In a minute,” he said, pulling me into the kitchen. “Sit.”
I did as he asked, making myself comfortable in one of the dining chairs.
He stood in front of me, that tall, solid presence I’d come to lean on like it was a part of me, and I realized how much I wanted to just…give myself over to him completely.
But first, he spoke.
“I love you,” he said, deeply. “No more secrets. From now on, we tell each other everything. Every thought, every fear, every piece of who we are. Because we’re…us...a couple.”
I blinked at him, my heart stuttering at the wordcouple. He said it like he wasn’t asking me, but like he was confirming something sacred.
“We’re…a couple?” I asked softly, unsure if I’d heard him right.
“Yes,” he said, stepping closer until I could feel the warmth of him through the fabric of my clothes. “There’s no question. We’re a couple, Skye. And I love you. More than life itself. More than anything else I’ve ever felt or will feel. And I’ll do anything for you. Anything.”
I swallowed hard, tears welling in my eyes, because the weight of his words wasn’t just words. They were a promise. A shield. A vow. And I realized I’d never felt anything like this for anyone before, this combination of safety and passion, protection and desire.
“I’ve never felt like this before,” I replied, my voice quivering. “The way you love me, the way you fight for me…it means everything. You make me feel like I’m the only thing in the world that matters. I’ve never loved anyone like this. Not even close.”
His hand cupped my cheek, and I leaned into the touch. “I know,” he whispered. “I feel it. I feel it every time I look at you, every time you breathe next to me. And I don’t take it lightly. I won’t ever.”
The intensity in his eyes made my heart race. My lips found his, hungry and desperate. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me impossibly close.
“I’m so scared sometimes,” I admitted against his chest. “Scared that something will happen to you, scared that I’ll lose you.”
He kissed the top of my head. “Baby, nothing’s going to happen to me that I don’t want to happen. And I’m never letting anything happen to you. You’re mine. Forever. And don’t you forget that.”
“I won’t forget,” I mumbled, tears falling down my cheeks. “I never want to let go of this, of you. Not ever.”
He pulled back slightly, holding my face in his hands. “You don’t have to,” he said. “I’m all in. And you better believe I’ll go through hell and back a hundred times over if it means keeping you safe, keeping you happy, keeping you mine.”
“I love you so much,” I said, leaning into him again, my hands clutching his chest.
His hands slid down to my waist. “You make it easy to love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing mine in soft kisses that made my knees weak. “Everything about you. The way you laugh, the way you fight, the way you just exist in this world. I’m addicted. I can’t get enough of you.”
We spent the next hour holding onto each other, whispering words that needed no context. I told him about the flashes of fearthat still haunted me, about my panic, my shame, and he held me tighter, whispered to me that none of that was my fault.
We talked about last night, briefly. Not the details of his rage, because I didn’t need to know. I just needed him with me, needed to feel the safety of him.
“I feel…safe,” I admitted finally. “Safe with you.”
“That’s how I want you to feel. Always.”
I smiled.
