Page 158 of A Curse On Black Lake
So I go with a part of what I’m feeling, at least he can have a piece of me even though I wish I could give him myself entirely.
“This has been very fast for me. Not that I want you to stop, but I’m struggling. And after what happened last night, and the way you looked at me when I came out of my trance or whatever, it scared me.”
“Yeah because I thought you were gone,” he rasps, and clears his throat.
“I thought I’d have to bury someone else I love, and I can’t take that again,” he whispers, dropping his eyes from mine.
My heart lurches from my chest, and all the butterflies erupt from the arteries. The word slips past his lips, practiced, like he says it to me every day. Iwanthim to say it to me every day. Iwishhe could say it to me every day.
Killian takes my wrist with his large hand, placing it over his heart.
It burns my palm, and the weight building in my chest is painful. It’s a beautiful ache from the thorns of love, pricking me, making me bleed, confirming that what I feel for him is as real as the blood pumping through my veins. I’ve craved it for most of my life. I had the blessing of a grandmother who loved me more than anything.
But this love is different.
This love is the guarantee of loss. It’s like ripping out your organs to save someone else. It is the vulnerability of exposing yourself to someone not knowing what they will do, but the love you have for them is worth the risk. It’s the raw, open wound that only he can heal.
It’s the kind of love people only dream about, only read about. This is the kind that people have fought wars for, have died for.
Willdie for.
His gaze is full of intent, of the seriousness of the words he’s about to say, and the corner of his mouth tipped up, like he’s excited to tell me. But all I can do is brace myself for the impact of them. For the impact of letting myself decay from the inside out by not being able to say it back. I’ve never said them to another. To someone whodeservesthem.
“I want to tell you something, and you don’t have to say anything back. But I want you to understand that no matter what happens in the next few hours, weeks, months, or years. I don’t want to love you in secret Eliana, I want to love you so loudly it drowns out everything else.” Killian takes a breath and kisses my nose.
“I want everyone to know you’re mine. I know I’m … messed up. I know I have my own issues. But you’re it for this broken man,” he says, pointing to his chest.
Every single cell in my body begs me to say it back because I feel the same way. I want every broken, sharp piece of him.
He has kept people away since his father died, afraid to feel the devastation again. So how can I say those words to him becauseIwant to give them to him, regardless of the consequences? That’s selfish, and because I love him, I keep those three special words to myself.
“I haven’t dropped my walls for anyone but Grams, and she’s gone.”
“Are you willing to try for me?” he asks, and I catch the knowing look on his face.
My walls started crumbling the first time he kissed me. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to admit he brings out all the good in me and protects it, nurtures it.
“Yes because the way I feel about you isn’t normal. Not that I know what that is,” I tell him.
Killian chuckles and leans forward, kissing me slowly. His hand releases one of mine and drags it down my spine reverently.
“I think we left ordinary behind us the moment I pulled you out of that ditch,” he says.
I giggle and shake my head, yet simultaneously hate myself for giving him even a little bit of hope. I should have told him no. “Who would’ve thought,” I rasp, hoping he doesn’t hear the crack of my heart against his because I’m pretty sure they’re beating in sync now.
He rubs his thumb on the underside of my jaw and leans in to my ear. “Normal is boring anyway,” he says, and nips my lip.
I tuck my nose into his neck as he rubs his hand up and down my back.
“I’d like to take you out on a date,” he says.
I smile against his skin and shake my head.
“No?” he asks.
Pulling away from the safety of his neck, I shake my head again. “There aren’t exactly great restaurants in Black Lake,” I tell him.
Maybe I can enjoy this, even if for a little bit. We’ll have these moments together. That’s worth something, isn't it?I ask myself.
