Page 49 of Euphoria

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“I’m cold,” I replied.

“Jane… Stay a moment. I have the pleasure of owing you my life.”

A strange energy like none I’d ever heard before was in his voice, and when I returned my gaze to his, he was alight with another kind of fire. It danced across me, and the wool of his jumper scratched against my skin as I shivered.

Sighing, he drew me close, wrapping his arms around me. My cheek settled against his chest, my ear over his heart that was thrumming a wild beat. It calmed me, and soon, I was putty in his hands.

“It’s a curious thing, is it not?” Edward murmured into my hair.

“What, sir?”

He paused a moment, the sound of birds singing at the rising sun flowing through the open window. “You and I.”

I pulled in a deep breath, his scent tinged with the reminder of what had transpired that night. Smoke.

“I would’ve had you by now,” he went on, lost in deep thought. “But I find myself caring more for…” He sighed. “Standing here like this feels just as satisfying. What curse have you spun over me, Jane Doe?”

A curse? What could he mean by it?

I stood with him just so and allowed him to take comfort in our nearness. I was glad he was unharmed, but something wasn’t right, and I feared to ask more.

“Curse?” I inquired, my heart spinning. “I would think it more of an awakening.”

Edward tensed, then his embrace deepened.

What convoluted punishment was this? Where two lovers balance the magical strangeness of here and what may. Haunting one another with words and endearing glances, double meanings and misadventures only the aroused eye could see. The tether that forced two souls together—the rope that binds—constantly pulled asunder by outside forces.

All you have to do is reach out and tug, Jane Doe. Wrap your scarred hands around the line, and pull with all your might.

“I must go,” I murmured.

“So you will leave me?”

I nodded and drew away from him, but he couldn’t let me go. Not straight away.

“Then let me taste your lips,” he whispered. “One thing before you take your leave, spirit.”

Raising my hands, I cupped his face, stroking my thumbs back and forth over his skin. He leaned down, and closing his eyes, took my mouth with his. All at once, I felt my desire grow at his touch and wished I could stay and never leave his embrace, but it wasn’t to be.

My kiss was the balm that soothed his ragged soul. I could feel it in his desperate touch and taste it upon his tongue. He was reluctant to let me go, but let me go he did.

“Goodnight,” he whispered as we parted.

“I think it’s more like good morning,” I replied with a tiny flicker of a smile.

He smiled, but the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. “As always, you are right.”

Returning to my room, I sat on the edge of my bed and peered through the curtains. Watching the sunrise, I buried deeper into Edward’s jumper and replayed the strange evening over and over in my head. Fire, passion, it was all a queer tale among the drama of the past weeks. I couldn’t make sense of it.

I remained by the window until the full morning had dawned, casting new light over Thornfield. When the hour crept toward seven, I undressed for my shower and folded the jumper. I slid it underneath my pillow to join the library key, another treasure to add to my collection.

Then I washed away all trace of what had been borne in the night and prepared for the day.