"Because I couldn't stay away," I told her honestly.
Something cracked in her expression. The anger was still there, but underneath it was the reason I'd come here tonight.
She stepped aside.
I walked into her dark apartment, moving through her world the way I'd learned to. The world I'd chosen over my own the night I stopped going home.
She closed the door. The deadbolt clicked.
I stood in the middle of her kitchen. And for the first time in my career of masks and performances and dead-eyed grins, I didn't know what face to wear. Every version of myself felt wrong in this moment.
So I just stood there, responding to her when she softly said my name. And when she found me, her hand landing on my chest, fingers spreading over my sternum, her head tilting as she readmy heartbeat, I pulled her against me and buried my face in her soft, dark hair.
"You're shaking," she whispered.
"I know."
"What happened?"
"I can't tell you."
"Milo—"
"I need you to trust me." My arms tightened around her. "Can you do that?"
She didn't respond at first. But her breath was warm against my throat. And her heart beat against my ribs, steady where mine was ragged.
"Yes," she said quietly. "But I'm still angry with you."
"I know."
"And you owe me an explanation."
"I know that too."
"And you can't just disappear for days and then?—"
I kissed her.
Not hard. Not desperate. Slow. I kissed her top lip, then her bottom lip, then the corner of her mouth where it curved when she smiled at something only she could hear.
She made a sound against my mouth, quiet and wounded.
Her fingers curled into my shirt.
I pulled back just enough to rest my forehead against hers. My hands cradled her face, thumbs tracing her cheekbones, and I stared down at this woman who had so easily crawled beneath my skin, and I said the thing I'd been holding back from her.
"I love you, little bird."
She went still. Completely, utterly still.
"I love you," I repeated. "And whatever happens, I need you to remember that. Even if it doesn't look like it. Even if you can't see it. Even if you hate me."
Her breath caught. "Why would I hate you?"
"Just…please. Remember that."
"Milo, you're scaring me."
