Vacant Heart

Chapter Sixteen

"You aren't cursed, Aidan. I'm here," I breathe, kissing his temple, then his cheek. "I'm right here. You saved me."

The sound he makes when his chest breaks under the strain of his reluctant emotions wrenches my heart, striking me to the core. I hold onto him tighter, wrapping my arms around him with all the force I have left to give, tucking my face into his throat as his sudden unleashing of violent sobs rake through my body, shaking us both.

He's always so careful to hide himself away. To hear him break is painful. It's painful because even in the dark, I know whatever he is hiding is destroying him. His memories, his secrets are gnawing at his insides, forcing him to carry this guilt, this darkness with him wherever he goes.

I want him to tell me. I want him to tell me everything, just so he doesn't have to bear it alone anymore, but I'm sure he won't allow me in. The harsh words we exchanged in his parlor haven't dissipated with this event. They are still there, just not as important anymore.

"I could never..." he starts, sucking in a gasp. My body flinches when he releases it. "I could never hurt them. I could never..."

I wipe his tears, nuzzling his throat, exhaling. "I know. I know."

"I—God, I can't talk about it. I can't—"

I beg him to stop, unable to hear him this way. It's crushing me. His fingers are digging into my back, into the shirts of his he's put me in. His tears taste like ocean water, salty and thick. My lips are wet from them, pressed to the corner of his mouth. My own emotions are blundered, effected greatly by his sorrow, and my own trauma, reliving the helplessness I felt under the ice, and buried in the depths of snow.

We've got a world of drama between us, and the only relief is tenderness. We paw at each other, feeding off one another's vulnerability, until we're gasping, consuming the air with greed and desperation.

We both move in sync, praising and worshipping, and the tension swells. And despite how weak I feel, burdened by fatigue, or how short my nerve-endings actually are in this moment, our lips find each other, our searching's coming to hilt. My stomach somersaults at the way he inhales and crushes me under his grip, kissing me hard enough to hurt. I don't have the strength to reciprocate, my arms limp between his chest and mine.

"I want this to be perfect," I whisper against him. I'm all too aware that I haven't showered. My teeth are not brushed. My hair feels like hay. My fingers are stiff and just bending them creates aches throughout my whole hand. Acquiescing, he nods, allowing me to breathe.

"About that..." he says, grimacing. "I don't have condoms here."

I nuzzle against his nose with mine, humming. "Have you...since—?"

"No," he breathes, stunning me. "It's been years."

He pulls back enough to grasp my cheek, and look into my eyes. "I haven't felt this way about anyone before."

I'm brave enough to ask, praying he doesn't get offended. "Nora?"

He closes his eyes, while I swipe my thumbs over his cheeks, erasing his tears.

"It wasn't like that between us," he finally says, softly. He's told me before that he lived in a marriage without much carnality, but it hasn't sunk in until now.

Aidan has known me for less than a week, and he's just told me I've made him feel things his wife never did. Their relationship is no doubt complicated, but it's suddenly apparent that we've both confessed to each other that these feelings we have are more than just desire, more than comfort.

This is something else, something strange. Never in a million years did I think there would be a time when I wouldn't cringe at too much affection. I crave Aidan's touch, constantly. I want him to tell me what I mean to him. I want to consume his thoughts, and give him the push he needs to begin living again. I yearn to be everything.