“Nothing more than oxygen administered externally– no intubation.”
“Makes sense, I suppose,” Jules nods. This is where he’s comfortable; facts and knowledge. Even if it’s not the news wewere wanting, I’m glad he can find a tiny bit of comfort. We finish up our drinks in comfortable silence. Vicky shows us the new equipment before she leaves. The sound I heard earlier was the suction tool she used to remove the phlegm coating Theresa’s airways. Jules actuallyaskedher to show him how to use it, and I couldn’t have felt prouder of him than I did right then.
We move as much furniture as we can out of the living room and bring our mattress downstairs. We both know the circumstances are shit, but for some reason, the mood is light and easy. Theresa is already asleep, so we dim the lights and lie down, turning to face each other. Jules traces the lines of my face, skimming his fingers over my brows, then my nose, pausing when he reaches the swell of my lips. I press them against his fingertips and rest my palm against his cheek.
“Come here,” I whisper. He shuffles closer, watching me the entire time. My grip tightens on his face with the intensity of his stare. He looks like the Jules I’ve always known; kind, trusting, and mine to protect. Blue eyes look up at me through his lashes, telling me exactly what he needs without words. The silence all around holds us steady, suspending us in a place where it’s justthis. Us.
My nose brushes against his, our eyes remain steady and sure. His warm breath dances along my mouth as I move slowly across his face. It’s a featherlight touch, barely there, but it feels more intimate than anything we’ve done so far. I truly see him at this moment; the vulnerability, the trust, the love. Mine for the taking, and mine to keep safe.
When the tip of my nose reaches his ear, I blow softly, causing his body to shiver against mine. I keep going lower until the burn of his stubble runs along the bridge of my nose. Jules tilts his head back slightly, his Adams apple sticking out, begging for attention. I press gentle kisses down his throat, one… then another… and another, until I can feel his pulse thrumming steady against my lips. The taste of his skin is one I never want to go without; it’s an addictive flavour of hope and the promise of forever.
Jules twists his fingers in my hair, holding me against his chest.
“Can you hear my heart?”
“Yes.”
“It’s going to break soon, Zan.”
“I’ll be there to put it back together.”
“You promise?”
“With everything I am.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Jules
Age 20
Sleep won’t come, but I’m not mad about it, not while I’m lying next to Zander. Even in his dream-state, he holds me like I’m the most precious thing he’s ever come across. Long possessive arms encompass my waist, and his hard body presses against my back.
It’s almost five a.m., which means he’s only had around two hours of uninterrupted sleep. His nightmares are back with a vengeance, twisting his body into unnatural positions and ripping noises from his throat that sound more animalistic than human. I held him through it, as I always do, whispering words of comfort and love, hoping it would be enough to bring him back. But it never is. The only thing that could save him from his own mind is also the same thing that could tear us apart. Once the gaps are filled and the memories are revived, what use am I? I would lose the only person that I’ve ever wanted, the only person who truly sees and loves me for exactly who I am. He often jokes that I know him better than he knows himself– he doesn’t even realise how true that is. It’s how I justify the onlysecret I’ve ever kept from him. Telling myself I’m doing the right thing, I’m protecting him from something he isn’t even aware of, because I know the damage it could cause, not only to him, but to us, too.
But when the nightmares come, and the physical pain is evident all over his usually peaceful face, I wonder if the truth would actually set him free. I wonder if he would thank me for giving his tired mind the answers it’s forever reaching for. I wish I could ask my Mom. She’s the only person who would know what to do, because she’s the only other person who knows what truths I’m holding. What if the protection I’ve privately offered is actually the key he needs to lock the door he’s bolstered himself against for the last four years?
The mattress shifts behind me, warm air spreads along the back of my neck, accompanied by a low rumble.
“Sleep, Jules,” his words are slurred in the most adorable way, and his hair tickles my bare back.
“Mhhm.” Zander tugs at my shoulder, rolling me into him. Like our bodies know what we need before we do, our mouths align. Soft, sleepy lips move gently against mine in a lazy rhythm. My body burns hot from his attention when he reaches between us and grasps my hip. I’m pulled against his hard length, my own twitching in response as he loosely groans against my mouth. He’s half asleep, yet his body still knows what it wants, grinding us together with unrestrained abandon.
“Zan…” His lust is building with every moment our lips are joined. It’s apparent in the way his grip tightens, and his mouth presses into mine with a desire so intense it pushes me onto my back. Large hands roam across my bare skin, kisses following close behind. He’s everywhere– at my throat, my chest, the trail of hair leading down to my arousal…
“Zander… We–” His teeth graze my nipple before a short, sharp sting sends a jolt of pleasurable pain straight through me.
“Shhh, let me help you sleep,” I can feel the smirk in his voice; playful and challenging. I cast a quick glance over to the hospital bed beside us. He picks up on my hesitancy and draws back, rising to his feet and pulling me to follow. We sneak through the house, bumping into furniture and tripping up the stairs before the momentum is lost and reality crashes back in. We reach the bedroom, magnetising into each other and tumbling to the floor in a flurry of tangled limbs and unadulterated need.
“You need sleep too,” I counter his earlier argument. His hands breach the waistband of my shorts, teasing along the barrier.
“Bad dream… rather… be here,” he says between each kiss to my stomach while peeling the elastic band of my shorts away.You could help with that, Jules.But could I? Would he still wake up in the middle of the night to shower me with affection once he knows the truth? My thoughts pull me out of the moment briefly, but he notices. Even in the darkness, I can feel his dark brown eyes on me, questioningly.
“Can I?” He rubs the side of his face along the length of my covered erection. My answer comes in the form of an aching pulse against his cheek. He presses his mouth against me through my shorts, “Mmm, thank you.”
Those two words empty my brain completely. He actually wants to pleasure me so much that he’s thanking me for the opportunity? I’ve always thought of myself as the lucky one, grateful for every touch and kiss, but now it’s clear that he feels the same way, too.
The feel of his mouth covering my crown is otherworldly. Warm, wet, and so fucking soft. My sac tightens immediately. I need him like this, everywhere, all at once. He slides down my length, reaching three-quarters of the way before moving back up, his hand mimicking in slow, tight strokes.
