Page 111 of All Your Bloody Lies

My butterfly raises her gaze to Tyson, who responds with a nod. “Let’s get some sleep, Syd,” he suggests. His glance shifts to me, a silent exchange occurring between his light hazel eyes and mine.

I give him a nod, then move into the bedroom and go straight to the bathroom. Dropping the jacket on our way in, I take us to thebath, and start filling it. Before we get in, I step us into the shower and only once the hot water is running, do I let it fall over us.

The steam billows, filling the room with its intense heat, causing her to startle as it envelops her skin.

A soft whimper escapes her lips, undoubtedly discomforted by the hot water against her open wounds.

I wrap an arm under her and try to position her enough to take my shirt off, but I nearly drop her.

“Baby, can you stand? I’ll keep you from falling.”

She remains silent but begins to shift her legs. Catching her slight nod, I bend down to gently place her feet on the ground. With my free arm, I remove my shirt and toss it to the floor, switching hands effortlessly.

As I start undoing my belt, she wraps her arms around my neck and gestures for me to lift her again. I quickly kick off my pants as her legs begin to shake. Before they can give out on her, I’ve got her securely back in my arms.

Once she’s rinsed of the dirt and blood, I turn off the shower and guide us into the tub, slipping in together after shutting off the water.

Her head rests on my shoulder, the water pouring over the sides. “You need to feed,” I whisper, brushing her hair away from her face. “Don’t think I’ve ever masturbated with someone injured in my arms,” I try to joke. It’s as awkward a feeling as it sounds, but it’s fine, I’ll get over it.

As I remove my hand from around her, she groans, “Don’t.”

Her head tilts slightly, eyes focusing on me as they open for the first time since I carried her through the forest. “I’m already feeding,” she murmurs.

My eyebrows knit together, “How?”

Both of her arms move into the water and rest against my chest. “Later,” she hums before pressing her lips against my neck. “This… is nice.”

The tenderness of her kiss makes my chest constrict, and I instinctively tighten my embrace around her. My opposite hand runsthrough her hair, holding her head to me. “Just need bubbles.” I take a breath, the smell of her sweet peonies finally coming back.

She nods only once.

The tug on my lifeforce, an undeniable and tangible current surges through me, finally registering. As it has always been, there is an absence of pain. It’s akin to a tender caress encircling my heart. A comforting embrace reminiscent of a cozy blanket amidst the wintry stillness, transporting me to past hikes on snow-draped peaks. There, when I was merely Mundane, I’d sip steaming cider to thaw after enduring the biting cold.

Grateful that neither of our bodies succumb to the same withering as Mundanes, we lie here for what feels like hours. It must have been, considering I’ve drained and refilled the water five or so times. Throughout, we remain in silence. At one point, I think she falls asleep.

I finally speak, feeling the need to hear her voice, “Xera… I was fucking terrified.”

I feel her lean her head back, and I release her to do so. “Me too.” I tilt my head down and look into her silvern eyes that are beginning to clear.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur, and without a moment’s hesitation, lean in to firmly press my lips against hers.

Her hand glides to my cheek, and I tighten my arm around her neck, a shiver coursing through my body. This is the first time I can feel passion behind her kiss, without the desire to do anything more than just this. It’s as if she finds complete satisfaction in this embrace, right here in my arms.

As our heads turn, she whispers, “Don’t.”

Involuntarily, I shake my head, inhaling deeply as I intensify the pressure between our lips.

She’ll never learn to stop telling me what not to do, but I do find it amusing. It’s as if she believes she understands why I apologized. She probably thinks I’m sorry because I didn’t get to her faster, orthat she was taken away from me in the first place. Maybe she assumes it’s because I had shown up at all.

No, it’s none of those.

It’s because I’m too much of a coward to risk losing her to tell her how I feel. I know the moment those three words slip from my mouth she will run. I may chase her, but this fear wouldn’t be from a stalker or an obsessed monster. She would fear the other side I want to give her. The side where freedom from me wouldn’t be an option no matter what the outcome of either of our lives would be.

I’m willing to get down on my knees to worship her, and only her. Fuck the Gods and Belial himself. She is all that I’ll praise.

I want to please this demon I’ve got wrapped in my arms until the world burns, and once we burn with it, continue to do so in the afterlife.

I’m such a fucking fool because I know she’ll never feel the same way, but I don’t care. It’s only her that I need, and that fact could not be any more potent than now. Those moments of being without her, I felt a part of me missing.

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