I can’t tell where I end and he begins.
His mouth brushes mine, soft, careful, like I’m already breaking. “You told me it would be okay.” His voice drops to a whisper, cracked and trembling. “You told me I’d be safe.” His breath shakes. “You told me you’d come back for me.”
My throat shatters.
He pulls the chain tight, winding me into him, locking me down.
“You forgot.”
His smile cuts deep.
His lips press against my pulse.
“But I didn’t.”
His hands slide into my hair.
His mouth crushes mine.
“You remembered me.” His grip softens. “And now you’ll stay.”
The chain rattles as he pulls me into his lap.
His arms cage me there, his breath steadying against my temple.
His voice softens.
“You won’t leave me this time.”
I can’t speak.
I can’t move because I think some part of me remembers the quiet place too.
I just don’t know why I buried it.
Or what I promised to forget.
His arms stay locked around me like he’s waiting for me to disappear again.
Like I’ve done it before.
Like he’s still waiting for me to break the promise I don’t remember making.
His breath stutters against my temple.
His hands tighten when I shift.
“You’re mine,” he breathes, his voice soft but trembling at the edges.
“Yes,” I whisper, my throat too tight, my pulse stumbling.
“You’re mine,” he says again, a little harder this time, like he’s trying to pin the words in place.
I nod.
“I’m yours.”
“You always were.”
