Colors by You

Chapter 6

"Hey– say something," I whispered.

His eyes finally locked with mine. His expression was set, his voice deceptively calm. "Do you want me to go?"

The question threw me off guard. "What?"

"I needed to be sure you'd be okay so I stayed. Now I know. I can leave."

"Hang on. Do you think I'm mad at you for this?" I asked, a little incredulous. He didn't answer. I sat up as much as I could, giving him a serious look. "I'm not upset. My life is about as mundane as it can get for a witch, but I didn't go in there expecting to get out without a scratch. I knew it'd be dangerous and I was prepared to deal with whatever consequences came out of it."

He took my words with a slow nod, but that look on his face remained. Still resigned. Still guilty. "I know you've been set on living your life without me being in the picture and believe me– I get why you want that. Being soulless and visiting hell are just the tip of the iceberg for the kind of shit my brother and I have gone through, and no one deserves to get dragged down by that kind of baggage." His voice remained steady, but those sea glass eyes glistened faintly in the dim light. Anguished and yearning and prepared for rejection. "If you want me gone, I promise to walk away and never bother you again, but you have to say it. Tell me what you want me to do."

For a couple moments I was struck silent. It hit me then that the little voice screaming danger was gone. I didn't feel uneasy being so close to him, and it wasn't because of the soulmate bond. There wasn't a trace of him that revealed a malevolent side. Fighting Nora hadn't turned him into a merciless or sadistic hunter. He'd been resolved and protective of me in a way I probably didn't deserve. I was alive because of him and his brother and now he was sitting here, ready to break his heart if I asked. And the realization made my own hurt .

I didn't think. My hand reached for his before I was even conscious of it. "Please stay," I whispered.

His fingers tightened around mine. Tension leaked from his shoulders, curving them over the bed. His forehead dipped to rest against our hands. I couldn't see whether those tears dripped down his cheeks.

I just watched him. It'd always felt like if I stared for too long, the soulmate haze would take over and render me stupid. In reality, I'd been acting like an idiot by being so scared. So willfully blind. My hand twisted in his grasp and he released it easily, a furrow growing in his brows when it came to rest against his cheek. I took the other with my free hand, cupping his face and lifting it to meet my gaze. His eyes locked with mine. The anguish was mercifully gone, but some hesitance still lingered behind them. Guilt coiled in my chest, rising into a painful lump in my throat.

"I was afraid." It was the only explanation I could offer. Cowardly, but true.

He shook his head sadly. "You were right to be. I'm not sure what I would've done if I met you back then."

Gently, I drew his face toward mine. He didn't resist, pulled by the same gravity that made me ache for him to be closer. That furrow melted away, his gaze growing soft.

"I'm not afraid anymore," I said firmly, making sure he could see I meant it. Because I did– there wasn't a trace of doubt in my mind.

His hands curled at my shoulders, his fingers brushing at my arm carefully. He gave a little grin. It wavered at the corners, but it was there. I tried to offer one back, sniffling.

"Sorry I took so long."

"It's okay," he murmured shakily, finally erasing that last bit of distance to rest his forehead in the crook of my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, bringing him as close as I could. My eyes slipped shut, relishing the feel of him so close. His warmth, the sounds of his breath. It felt good. Right.