Page 43 of A Ballad of Phantoms and Hope
I will not go to him. I will not show him how much I crave to be held in his arms.
You’re so eager to be the whore, aren’t you?Cold words circulate in my brain. I’ve heard them so many times before.Your infected mind will drag him down to the depths with you. You’ll be the cause of his ruin.
Because I’m a bad person.
I suck in my lower lip and press my teeth into the flesh.
Lanston stands with his hands fisted tightly at his sides, staring at me, waiting.I’m so tired of waiting.
I open my mouth to ask why he’s come here, but the moment my lips part, he swiftly walks toward me, parting the golden streams of sunlight and disturbing the dust. His brows are pulled low, and his arms slowly lift as he stands before me. Lanston’s palms are warm and soft, spreading over my jaw and threading his fingers through my hair.
Then our lips reach for one another, almost touching but not quite. His breaths are hard and labored as if he ran the whole way here from Harlow. Sweat beads down his pale skin. I’ve never seen tendons and bones as lovely as his, beneath the soft of his skin; they magnify the pink of his blush, the red of his lips. My eyes linger on the effortless curls of his lashes.
And he, this beautiful, ruinous man, says, “I cannot rid you from my mind, Ophelia. It’s as if you’ve instilled an illness of your own into me. You are the sole thought that ravages my mind as I lie awake at night. The ceilings make me think of you. The forest. Roses.Breathing—I cannot take breath without you eroding my sanity.”
Lanston tilts his forehead so it’s pressed against mine. Our lips brush against one another, not yet a kiss.
He thinks of me?
His hazel eyes pierce into my soul and rekindle the fire inside my heart.
“You haunt me too, Lanston,” I murmur against his lips. Chills spread through my entire body and for a moment, I don’t remember where I am. Who I am. Because it doesn’t matter, all that matters is us. I see it now. I understand.
“More than anything?” he asks, greedy for my words. My bones fill with happiness, more than I’ve felt in years.
“Yes.”
“Tell me.” He breathes against my lips.
“More than dancing and collecting greenery. Every song I listen to reminds me of you. Every glance into the sky, the stars, the sunlight—I see you everywhere, Lanston. I feel you in the breeze that greets my cheeks, the scent of pages and books. You’ve haunted me from the day I laid eyes on you.”
He takes a short breath, eyes arching the way they do when one’s heart aches.
“This is the last time I will ask you—” he pauses and swallows, closing his eyes as if making a wish. “Will you come with me? We can find our peace together. I know it in the marrow of my bones. We are meant to be together. We are meant to find our reasons, our tethers to this world, as one. Please. I won’t beg for anything, but I will for you.”
Lanston keeps his eyes closed. I stare remorsefully at him as tears fill my eyes.
I want to go… so badly I do. But there is darkness chasing me. And nothing good awaits me once we pass from purgatory. Lanston has the purest soul. I know he will have his golden fields and peace, but me? There is only fire awaiting my soul.
I’ve sinned. I’m not good.
But my heart wins out against the fear that’s lived inside me. I want this one last thing. Him, even if it is only for a short while.
“Okay.”
Lanston looks up at me swiftly, eyes brimming with hope. “Really?” he gasps.
I nod. A beat of silence wraps around us as he studies my features, his smile bright. He traces the line of my jaw before pulling me in, letting our lips connect as I’ve longed for them to, as I’ve dreamed and wished for. The smell of pages and coffee seeps around me. My fingers glide across his neck and jawline, eager to explore his skin with touch and not just my eyes. Lips as soft and engulfing as his should be a sin.
Our kiss breaks, foreheads pressed together. I whisper, “Can you make me a promise?”
“Anything.”
I meet his gaze. “Promise we’ll go together… you know, when we move on.”
His eyes soften and his hands glide down to my neck until they rest on my collarbones. “Together, or not at all.”
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