I stare long enough that the silence starts to claw at my ribs.
Then I reach out.
I don’t know why I do it. I don’t even realize I’m doing it until my fingers brush his—slowly, uncertainly—before closing around his hand.
He’s warm.
That’s the first thing that startles me. The warmth. The proof that his fingers aren’t cold anymore, and he’s alive.
But then the second thing hits me.
I don’t want to let go.
The realization crashes through me like a sucker punch to the ribs. My breath shudders and a tingle rushes down my spine.
I tighten my grip instinctively, and something sharp coils in my gut, expanding through my chest and flowing into my blood.
What the hell are these emotions?
I’m not supposed to feel this. Like I’m about to burst out of my skin just at the sensation of his hand in mine.
No. This isn’t right.
Especially not withhim.
My heart’s hammering, though, too loud in the quiet, and completely uncaring about my logical thoughts.
I try to pull my hand back, but it won’t obey. And I don’t know if it’s because I’m scared to let him go or because something in me has already decided I can’t.
Iwon’t.
So I sit there as the monitor beeps, holding his hand like a coward, hoping he doesn’t wake up,terrifiedhe might.
“What the hell have you done to me, Yulian?” I whisper, squeezing his hand tighter.
That’s when I realize my lips are tingling. Not in an abstract, nervous way, no. It’s a real, physical sense that makes my skin tingle and burn all at once.
A flood of memories bulldozes through me despite my resolve to bury it all.
The cave.
The silence.
The trembling breaths.
His mouth on mine.
I was about to fall asleep after wrapping my arms around him to stay warm like he said. I experienced a sort of discomfort as I did it, feeling his muscles beneath mine and being flooded by his scent.
Now that I’m holding his hand, I realize that wasn’t discomfort but something more.
A curse.
A hunger.
A need forsomething.
In the cave, however, I tried to quiet those thoughts as I drifted off, but I was wide awake the second I felt the press of lips against mine.
