FLYING | Sequel of FALLEN (NaNoWriMo 2022 WINNER)

34.

What does he know? What is he not telling me?

"You are sure?" I push him to confirm his words, because everything about his attitude makes me fear the worst.

"Yes."

The dry tone cuts my heart with a knife. He doesn't look at me, but right ahead. He is nonexistent in the manner that matters. He is triggered. He is protecting himself the only way he knows how. He is barely breathing. His posture is so tightly straight, he looks like a marionette awaiting command.

"Marcel?" I coo carefully, stealing a step closer from him. I hope with my entire loving beating heart that a careful proximity will bring him back.

He doesn't look at me. He bites his lips together with strength. White spreads on his face as the only colour on his features. I raise my hand gently to caress his cheek. Everything in me screams to touch him, love him, to break the strong shell of hard rock he is putting around him at the mention of him. I try to wrap my head around his entire behaviour.

This is not normal, not even for Marcel.

"Talk to me, baby." I invite him with a soft kiss on his cheek. He closes his eyes as tightly as he holds his lips shut. I spread my love with tender pecks on his temple, on his tight lips, to the other cheek, on his nose. I only stop when I taste salt on my lips and I feel him trembling between my hands now cupping both cheeks.

I part to look at the man before me. He is sobbing quietly. My heart races with pure instinct of love and protection. What has him struggling so much? I kiss each tear until he opens his eyes to reveal the darkness had gone. Not gone, but metamorphosed into fear.

"I'm here. Whatever this is, whatever you hold in here", I press a hand to his heart, and look back up at him, my heart crying to help him and bring the love back into his eyes, "we are going to face it together."

He shakes his head. He looks troubled like I have never seen him before, and it makes me want to be here for him all the more. He wiggles out of my embrace to walk to the bed. He sits on the edge and leans forward to take his head between each palms.

I've never seen him so distraught, it wrecks everything in me. I want to help him. I want to change his mind. I want to forget I ever brought up the subject.

I don't think of anything else to do. I take the hem of my wool oversized shirt and lift it up above my head. I take it off and throw it next to him on the bed. I step forward and climb onto his lap. I straddle him comfortably, expecting him to put his hands on me, undo my bra and rush his mouth on me. But he doesn't. He doesn't, even after I roll my hips against him to raise the temperature between us. His only response is to abandon himself to me. He leans into, his forehead nuzzled against my chest as I hear the full on sobs that take over him.

Panic arises in my body and I rush my arms around him to keep him close. I feel his tears against my chest. All I can do is embrace him tighter to me and run my fingers in his hair, caressing his scalp.

"I love you. I'm here for you. Please let me in. Let me carry this burden with you. Whatever this is."

"I don't deserve you." Is the first thing he says, and it only strengthens my embrace. I press my lips to his head.

"Don't say that. It's not true."

"I've been lying to you." He finally admits, his words half muffled against my bare skin.

I don't move away. Although I'm shook, I guessed as much. I didn't know lying to me troubled him so, but he told me he wasn't going to tell me things, and I had to admit it. It was a difficult swallow, but it didn't change what mattered.