Behind the Walls. NOVEL By Claire Darcy.

46. Let Me Hold You.

ACE.

"Wake up!"

I almost screamed when I opened my eyes to see a masked figure leaning over me.

"Whisp, what are you doing here?"I glanced out the window. The deep blue-ish glow outside told me it was still night, but something close to sunrise. It was closer to daybreak than most of the Whispering Death's usual frequenting times.

"I needed to see you," he said, his smokey voice making me sigh.

I reached up to Whisp's face, unable to stop myself from resting my hand against his cheek as he looked at me with brilliant sea green eyes. Sea green. That was the colour I'd decided they were closest to. That, or aqua.

"Mmm," he hummed, closing his eyes and leaning into my touch. "You're going to need to not do that if you expect any productivity."

I smiled a little, letting my hand drop down to my side, pulling my blankets up.

"Whisp?" I asked.

"I brought your shoes," he said, nodding to the golden heels on the floor in the corner, "You'd lost them."

"How did you know they were mine?" I asked, unrelenting in my search for clues to his identity.

"I know everything," he shrugged.

After all our visits in the past several nights, he had lost his arrogant sort of outer shell. He still joked and flirted playfully, but he was more open now, and much more gentle. So, so much more gentle.

"You were out and about last night," I said quietly as he sat on my bed, looking down on me and twirling a bit of my hair around his finger. He looked tired. No doubt he'd leave me soon and go back to sleep for a few hours before beginning whatever he did during the day. He said that was what usually happened.

"So were you," he said, nodding at my clothes. I sat up in shock, still in my gown from the night before. I almost head-butted Whisp.

"Easy!" he said, "I don't really want a concussion." He adjusted his black hood, making sure I couldn't catch a glimpse of his hair or its colour.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, cupping his face in my hands. His breathing hitched for a moment as my fingers ran along the skin on his jaw. That tiny bit of contact was all it took to get my heart racing. "I don't want to give you a concussion," I said sleepily, "I don't want to hurt you."

"Ace," he whispered, his hands finding my mind.

"What?" I asked quietly, lost in the beauty of his features. The sharpness of his jaw, the fullness of his lips, the muscles in his arms, chest, everywhere. Everything. Him.

"Ace, please," he breathed, his eyes closing as he pulled me toward him. I didn't need his words. It was written all over his actions. It was whispered into my mind.

'Let me hold you.'

I obeyed his yearning arms, crawling out of the blankets into his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist. I hugged him tightly, aching for comfort after everything I'd been through. One of his hands was in the small of my back, the other behind my shoulder blades, his fingers making circles on the bare skin my strapless dress left on my shoulder.

"What's the matter?" I asked, my fingers tugging mindlessly at the front of his jacket. Whisp opened his eyes, so close I could see the tiny details in his irises.

"Ace, please. You need to... Need to..." His words broke off and he let his head hang down against my shoulder. I felt his hot breaths on my skin and it made me shiver.
"Ace," he breathed, "You need to stop doing that."