Page 96 of Fragile Facade
Killian’s hand drops from my chin to the side of my neck, fingers brushing my nape and his thumb playing with my jawline. His touch is so tender that I close my eyes to feel it. It’s better than holding his hand, and it’s more than when he held that girl’s hand. It’s a touch full of desire but mingled with feelings, and holy fuck, there are feelings here. Real ones. Harsh ones. Ones we don’t want but can’t deny. Because somewhere along the way he became my tormentor, turned into my safe space, and started glueing my foundation back together so my puzzle pieces have something to sit on.
When I open my eyes, Killian licks his lips, dampening them enticingly. Yet the rush of desire that washes through me isn’t all heat and passion. It’s comfort and conflict, a chance to shift our dynamic, and the realization that ‘just in case’ means something to me, too.
I meet his grey eyes, watching them swirl with the same confusing clarity I’m feeling. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. It happened, didn’t it?” he asks.
“What?” I narrow my eyes on him.
“This. We became a thing.”
“We’re not a fucking thing.” But I don’t pull back, and I think I might crumble if he takes his hand away. “We’re just…”
“… in case? Just in fucking case, Soren.” He leans in, lips brushing mine in his usual ‘just in case’ kiss. But I’m the one who doesn’t allow it to be chaste. Not this time. Because we’re alone in Janie’s Woods where this whole thing started, and now he’s mine.
My hand sinks into his hair, simply feeling the wavy strands between my fingers. When he drops his hand to my hip, pulling me closer, our kiss deepens differently. Lips together but mouths closed, never parting. And I’m changing…
Because it fucking hurts to kiss him like this. He’s breaking through all my jagged bits, dissolving my glue, rearranging me in a way that suitsmyneeds, not his. It’s so selfless that I want to be more selfless, so I push my body against his, weave my other hand into his hair, and kiss him like I’m telling him what ‘just in case’ means to me.
He groans against my lips, body hard against mine, opening his mouth to take everything that I willingly give. Confessions, once again, without words spoken, but it fits us. And it’s even better that tonight, two attention-seekers confess their feelings with no attention on them. No people, no birds, not even the moon can see us under all these leaves. We’re alone. Real. Honest.
For once.
My tongue meets his in a way that isn’t frantic—curious, instead. His breath fans against my wet lips, warming me, and his palms lay flat on my lower back, holding me against him without forcing me to be here. Lightly, I graze my teeth over his bottom lip and feel his smile tug into place, forcing me to smile, too. Simply breathing, our foreheads roll together, and his arms tighten around my back.
… My hands drop from his hair to wrap my arms around his neck, temples together. In a hug.
It’s weird. So fucking weird I don’t know how to end it. I don’t know how to make it last forever. I don’t know what to do other than to fight how much I enjoy it. Our chests are pressing together, transferring heartbeats and sharing breaths, and I look into the forest to see if anyone is looking back to spy on this glass moment.
“I am afraid,” Killian says softly, holding me tighter to make sure I can’t pull back to look at him. “I’m afraid of music because it’s speaking a language I can’t understand anymore. I lost the ability to interpret my own music when I layered on too many masks. I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore. You were right about that.”
A snide comment wants to come out of my mouth. I swallow it. “Because you don’t trust anyone enough to look at you without them on.”
“No,” he agrees. “Who the hell would even wanna?—”
“Me, you dick. How many times have I told you to drop the masks?”
Again, I feel his lips pull into a smile against my cheek. “I just made you mine, sweetheart. Can’t be chasing you off so soon.”
I scoff.
I don’t deny that I’m his.
“Trust me, asshole. You are the thing I fear least in this world. Masks or not, you’re softer than I thought you were.”
His fingertips dig into my back as a playful threat, and his dark hair brushes my temple when he laughs. “Balance then, yeah? We still chasing a curse on the weekends and being all ‘just in case’ on business days?”
“That’s not balance,” I say. “Death games on weekdays and ‘just in case’ on weekends. I can’t handle you soft all the time.”
He laughs again, releasing me just enough to bring his face in front of mine. “New deal, Sauder. We end your family curse and learn to play music together instead. What do ya say?”
“No masks?”
“I’ll… try. If you admit you’re afraid of the curse.”
The moment almost shatters because he’s fucking half-right and I don’t want him to be. I scowl at him, and he huffs out a laugh, brushing his thumb between my brows to smooth it away.
“Admit it, sweetheart. I won’t judge.”
“Yes, you will.” I shake my head at him. “I’m not afraid of the curse, okay?”
