His eyes meet mine, and his voice is low as he takes a deep breath, drawing in my scent.
“Pain, Iris. All I feel is pain when I look at you.”
He bows his head until it rests on my shoulder, and his arms come around me as he pulls me close.
“Don’t you think I would?” he whispers. “If I could? Don’t you think I’d give you everything? I’d rip my heart out and hand it to you if I thought that would be enough. But it won’t. No matter what you keep telling yourself. I know you?—”
“No, you don’t.”
Elliot rears back, leveling his gaze at me, the tick in his jaw more noticeable as he clenches his teeth.
“That’s a lie. And you know it,” he says, holding my face in his hands. “I’m the only one who knows you. I’m the only one who knows what you need.”
I blink, unsure what to make of that declaration. He might be right, but I wouldn’t know, considering I, myself, can’t figure it out.
Elliot strokes my cheeks, searching my face for understanding, and, finding none, he sighs, and his eyes soften as he prepares to lay my truth bare.
“You need love, baby.“ His chest rises and falls with a labored breath. “That’s why you’re starving. You’re hungry for something I can’t give you. And it’s killing me.”
His fingers pull at the dampener around his throat, but he makes no move to remove it as we both struggle to catch our breath.
This feels like an ending that I wasn’t prepared for.
Sex, I can handle.
Friends with benefits, I can handle.
Love, I can’t handle.
But I’d come to terms with much less a long time ago. And maybe this is for the best. This way, I’ll never have to worry about it. This way, it will hurt less.
“It’s fine,” I mutter, shaking my head. “This is enough. It’s enough for me.”
I repeat the words, although I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince—me or Elliot.
Silently, he brushes away the tears I wasn’t aware I’d shed.
“Another lie.”
We’re pressed together now, drawn back in by something more powerful than our own foolishness, and I suck in a shuddering breath and avert my eyes.
“Then lie to me,” I say. “Make me believe it. Just once.”
“Iris…”
His voice is low, warning, but his eyes betray him, and the need is plain as my name leaves his lips in a whisper.
My throat feels like it’s closing, and I can barely get the words out.
“I’m so tired of being hungry.”
The tears flow freely as I cling to him, and his heart starts to hammer beneath my fingers as I rise up on my toes. But he doesn’t pull back.
“Iris,” he pleads, our lips brushing but not yet melding. “Baby…”
He sighs, unable to leave me wanting, and with the slightest tilt of his head, our mouths meet, and our breath tangles. Our hands claw at one another, frantic and searching, as years of reckless desire pour over into unbridled need.
“Elliot, please…”
