“Elijah,” I say, and I pull him as close to me as I possibly can while still keeping those big hazel eyes in sight. “We died together, and then we entered this world together, too. Do you not get it? Do you not see how beautifully everything has laid itself out in front of us?”
Elijah is quiet for a long moment, but I can see it in his eyes. I can see it as his defenses crumble, and he starts to make sense of everything around him.
But then his bottom lip trembles, and a singular wall snaps back up into place.
“All I see is you,” he whispers, and I find myself shivering against the length of him.
“For now, I think that’s enough. I can make that be enough.” As the words leave my mouth, I wonder if I mean them.
His warm body is trembling in my hold, and it takes everything in me to keep from stripping us both naked to transfer my body heat into his. Elijah is still crying softly.
“I’m so scared. I’m confused. Why do I feel this sadness? Why is it that when I see you, I ache? I thought falling in love was supposed to feel good,” he confides.
I sigh into his hair as I lay a gentle kiss against his head.
“It’s okay, Eli. It’s okay.” My hands seek him out even as he’s already in my grasp, trailing his arms and his back as hesubconsciously presses closer. “I’ve known my entire life that love is meant to hurt.”
“To hurt?” he chokes out, and when his soft, warm lips brush my neck, I suppress a shudder.
“Yes. For as long as I’ve loved you, I’ve hurt and feared and longed. It’s nothing new to me. But it is for you, and I understand why you’re having a hard time with it. I can be patient; I can love you slowly.”
“You… you love me?” His voice is breathless and disbelieving, yet I feel him harden in his jeans against me at the thought.
He wants that. He needs it.
“I’ve waited my entire life to love you, Elijah,” I confess.
A long, loud groan leaves his body at the admission, and my own body follows suit in its desire. I heat, my hands tightening where they grip him.
“This is so messed up,” he whispers.
“And yet you want it. You want me.”
“I do,” his response is immediate. “I want you so badly. From the moment we met, I’ve wanted you.”
“That means something,” I insist, shoving a hand into his golden halo of curls to tilt his head back. His eyes search mine—he’s looking for some kind of reassurance that I’m struggling to give him. I can’t share my dreams. “Everything you feel, every touch we share. It all means something.”
“That you love me,” he states. It’s no longer a question.
I want to remind him thathelovesmeas well, but I don’t want to push. He will come to that realization on his own.
“Yes, Elijah. More than anything else. So much so that I’ve devoted myself to you. That I crave being weak and pathetic inyour presence. That I would follow you around with my camera, just for the chance to capture you.”
Elijah’s lashes flutter, his lips parting as he watches me.“This should freak me out. I should be running.”
“But?”
“But,” he pushes his hips into mine. “Kiss me.”
My mouth crashes into his, and I moan into his open lips as I feel his tongue slide against mine. I’m momentarily aware that he’s just thrown up and has yet to brush his teeth, but that fact only serves to spur me on—knowing I’m getting such a raw, unfiltered version of him.
The messy, sick version that is bearing itself fully to me.
Before I can think twice, I’m falling to my knees in front of him. My hands fumble with the button of his jeans, but as soon as it pops open, his hand is over mine.
“Stop,” he rushes out, and I look up at him in confusion.
“Are you okay?”
