Page 17 of Sadistic

I can't say it back.

Even now, even in this goodbye, I can't give him that.

He takes his time, like we have forever instead of minutes.

Kisses every bruise from training, every scar from childhood adventures.

When he finally slides inside me, we both freeze, overwhelmed by the weight of this really ending.

"Look at me," he says. "Please, Rev. Just... look at me."

I do, and the raw emotion in his eyes breaks something in me.

This is what I'm giving up—not just sex, not just companionship, but someone who knows me.

Who's seen me at my worst and still wants me.

We move together slowly, saying with our bodies what we never could with words.

He whispers my name like a prayer, like he's trying to burn the memory into his skin.

I dig my nails into his back, leaving marks that will fade before my wedding day.

After, we lie tangled in sheets that smell like us, neither willing to move first.

Reality waits outside this room and we both know it.

His bedroom is exactly as I remember—clothes on the chair, textbooks scattered on his desk, the plant I gave him somehow still alive even though I know he hasn’t been watering it like I would.

"I hate him," Njal says to the ceiling. "I've never met him and I hate him."

"He's not—" I stop because defending Doran feels like I’ll end up hurting Njal.

"I won’t lie to you. I know we both have to move on, and there's someone else." The words come out rushed. "Ingrid. We've been talking."

The sting is sharp and unexpected. "Bjorn's ex?"

"That's been over for years. Since before you and I—" He turns to look at me. "I'm not trying to hurt you. I just thought you should know. In case... after..."

"After I'm married." The words taste like ash.

"Yeah."

We're quiet again.

Somewhere below, a door slams.

Normal Saturday sounds of life continuing.

His neighbor's music thumps through the thin walls—that terrible EDM he always complains about.

"Remember when we first hooked up?" he says suddenly. "You were so drunk you tried to put your shirt on as pants."

"I was notthatdrunk."

"Rev, you asked me if my apartment had stairs. We were already upstairs."

I laugh, hard. "Okay, maybe I was that drunk."

---