Page 103 of Broken By Silence
Her eyes flicker over my face, lingering. “You really mean that.”
Not a question. A statement.
“I do.”
Something breaks, or maybe it mends. She leans forward first, close enough that I can feel the warmth of her breath against my cheek.
I don’t move. I don’t dare. Every muscle in my body is tight, waiting, wanting, terrified of ruining it.
“You stillmake me crazy.”
I smile a small but genuine smile. “Good crazy or bad crazy?”
Her lips twitch. “Both.”
Her fingers trace a line down my forearm, light as air, and the contact lights me up from the inside. I reach up, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. My knuckles graze her jaw, and she closes her eyes for a second, breathing me in.
When she opens them again, she’s looking right through me — like she can see every version of who I used to be and who I’m trying to become.
“I love you, you know.”
Her breath catches.
She doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, and for a second, I think maybe I shouldn’t have said it. Then she leans in, pressing her forehead to mine. “I love you too.”
It’s barely a whisper, but it gets me higher than any drug ever could.
It’s barely a whisper, but it hits me harder than any punch ever could.
I let out a shaky breath, my hands finding her waist, waiting for her to pull away. She doesn’t.
She tilts her head, and our noses brush. Her fingers rest against my chest, tracing the beat of my heart. “You’re shaking,” she murmurs.
“Yeah.” I laugh softly. “Didn’t think I’d get this far.”
“You mean this?”
“This. Us. Being able to tell you how I feel without screwing it up.”
She smiles. “You didn’t screw it up.”
We stay like that for a while, suspended in the quiet. Two people who’ve both been broken in different ways. Finally, she leans back just enough to look at me. “So… what are we, Crew?”
I meet her eyes. “I don’t want to just do this half-assed. I want to love you just like the others get too.”
“You want to be my boyfriend?” She teases.
I laugh, a little nervous. “Yeah. I guess that’s the word for it.”
She tilts her head, pretending to think. “Hmm. I don’t know. I might have to check with the others.”
I groan. “You’re evil.”
She laughs then, really laughs, the kind of sound that makes my chest ache. “I’m kidding. I’d like that, Crew. I’d really like that.”
The words settle into me, and I reach for her hand again, threading my fingers through hers.
She fits there like she always has, grounding me in a way nothing else ever has.
