oh my gosh please listen to "she" by harry styles whilst reading this
MY HEART IS pounding violently in my chest. I think I might die if I don't find out if Kenji's okay soon.
The girls—Sonya and Sara—rushed him away to the med bay as soon as they saw he wasn't breathing. He wasn't okay and I know it's my fault. I could feel it. Something inside of me was stolen the second Kenji interfered and I still don't understand what it is.
Until I figure that out, I've been asked to leave. Everyone has. I don't know where Isaac and Juliette are, but I presume they're in his room because I'm in ours and I'm the only one here. The girls are trying to help Kenji and Isaac was panicking the second he dropped to the ground.
There's a knock at the door and I stop tapping my legs in anxiety. It's a bad habit I've possessed for years now. I just can't stop thinking about Kenji and how desperately I want to be there. I know exactly why I can't be, of course. Sonya and Sara told me that some kind fire erupted in his chest. A fire erupted in his chest. It doesn't even sound real nor possible. It sounds like some elaborate joke someone made up to make me feel bad about my powers. And that's the thing—I've never not trusted my abilities. I had so much time on my hands to train myself as best I could before I came to Point, and tonight my powers have been my biggest enemy. I should've known. Anger is my trigger and I should've known that. I caused a literal fire in his chest with my power of the element of fire. How though? I never meant to.
Another knock that makes me jump. I was completely lost in my thoughts and forgot someone's at the door. I clear my throat and get to my feet. Try to calm myself down as I walk to the door and turn the handle.
I stop a gasp from escaping. "What are you doing here?" I'm so glad you're here I'm so glad you're here I'm so glad you're here I'm so glad you're here.
"I had to see you," Warner's chest falls and rises and falls and rises. "I couldn't leave without seeing you first."
"You're leaving?" Another lump in my throat as I open the door even wider, allowing him entrance. He passes me and I close the door behind me, the only light in here now the dim bright grey LED's on the ground, glued to the lower walls.
"I have to," he says to me. "I can't stay here anymore."
"Can you just stay a little longer?" My words slip from me faster than I gave them permission to. "For me?" I don't know where these words are coming from and which tree I plucked them from but they sound so right and wrong at the same time.
Aaron's head cocks to the side and he asks me, "You don't believe what happened to Kishimoto was your fault, do you?"
My eyes begin stinging. I've tried so hard to please everyone but now no one's happy. And it's my fault.
Aaron moves towards me before I can stop him. He wraps his arms around me, one around my lower back and the other one gently cradling my head. I lean into his chest, smelling that familiar scent of his: apples and old books. It's the only way I can describe it. That alone is enough to make my tears spill from my eyes.
It's all become too much for me to take. Like a heavy weight that has now broken me down.
"It wasn't you, my love,"
"Of course it was—"
"Because," he interrupts me. "It wasn't you who hurt Kenji. It was me."
I'm blinking and almost seeing stars. "What are you talking about?" I pull away and try to examine the look in his eyes.
"I didn't want to believe Castle when he told me I might have a . . . a gift," Aaron says. "A part of me hoped he was trying to drive me mad for his own benefit." A small sigh. "But it did make a bit of sense, if I really thought about it. Castle told me about Kent, too," Aaron says. "Would you believe me if I told you I could sense your energy right now? Sense the tone and weight of it?"
I stare at him, study his features and the earnest, tentative note in his voice. "Yes," I tell him. "I'd believe you."
Aaron smiles in a way that seems to sadden him. "I can sense," he says, taking a deep breath, "the emotions you're feeling most strongly. And because I know you, I'm able to put those feelings into context. I know, for instance, that everything you feel right now—the fear and the sadness, isn't directed towards me but towards what you believe you've done to Kishimoto."
"You're kidding?"
"I'm not—I wasn't aware of it," he says. "Not for a very long time. I actually thought it was normal to be so acutely aware of human emotions. I thought perhaps I was more perceptive than most. It's a big factor in why my father allowed me to take over Sector 45," he tells me. "Because I have an uncanny ability to tell whenever someone is hiding something, or feeling guilty, or, most importantly, lying." A pause. "That," he says, "and because I'm not afraid to deliver consequences if the occasion calls for it.
"It wasn't until Castle suggested there might be something more to me that I really began to analyze it. I nearly lost my mind." He shakes his head. "I kept going over it, thinking of ways to prove and disprove his theories. Even with all my careful deliberation, I dismissed it. And while I am a bit sorry—for your sake, not for mine—that Kenji had to be stupid enough to interfere tonight, I think it was actually quite serendipitous. Because now I finally have proof. Proof that I was wrong. That Castle," he says, "was right."
"What do you mean?"
"I took your Energy," he tells me, "and I didn't know I could. I could feel it all very vividly when the four of us connected. Adam was inaccessible—which, by the way, explains why I never suspected him of being disloyal when he was on his own mission to escape with Juliette. His emotions were always hidden; always blocked off. I was naive and assumed he was merely robotic, devoid of any real personality or interests. He eluded me and it was my own fault. I trusted myself too much to be able to anticipate a flaw in my system."
"And Kenji," Aaron says after a moment. He rubs his forehead. Laughs a little. "Kenji and Isaac were . . . very smart. A lot smarter than I gave them credit for—which, as it turns out, was exactly their tactic. Kenji," he says, blowing out a breath, "was careful to be an obvious threat as opposed to a discreet one.
"He was always getting into trouble—demanding extra portions at meals, fighting with the other soldiers, breaking curfew. And Isaac broke simple rules in order to draw attention to himself. In order to trick me into seeing him as an irritant and nothing more. I always felt there was something off about them, but I attributed it to their loud, raucous behavior and their inability to follow rules. I dismissed both as a poor soldiers. Two idiots who would never be promoted. Idiots who would always be recognized as a waste of time." He shakes his head. Raises his eyebrows at the ground. "Brilliant," he says, looking almost impressed. "It was brilliant. Kenji's only mistake," Aaron adds after a moment, "was being too openly friendly with Kent. And that mistake nearly cost him his life."
"So—what? You were trying to finish him off tonight?" I'm so confused. "Did you hurt him on purpose?"
"Not on purpose." Aaron shakes his head. "I didn't actually know what I was doing. Not at first. I've only ever just sensed energy; I never knew I could take it. But I touched yours simply by touching you—there was so much adrenaline among the group of us that yours practically threw itself at me. And when Kenji grabbed my arm," he says, "you and I, we were still connected. And I . . . somehow I managed to redirect your power in his direction. I felt all of the elements course through me, it was unbelievable."
"Wait, so you're a. . ." There's not a term for it. Great. "Power thief?"
He looks like he's trying not to smile. "That's one way to put it."
I shake my head. "That's insane."
He steps closer, inches away from me. "But that's not why I'm here."
I swallow a thousand Kiss me's. "Why are you here?"
"Because I'm a fool," Aaron tells me. "Because I can't just walk away from you without asking you to come with me. Run away with me, Mara. Make mistakes with me. Stay with me. Permanently. So I don't fall too deeply into the insanity it brings me to be without you."
I could cry. Scream. Throw up. All of the above. "You want me to run away with you?"
He cups my face gently, his emerald eyes shining in the dim light. "Only you, love. This is me begging."
His hands are so soft and he's so so so close and so wonderfully beautiful. I forget about everything. Every mistake and every flaw in our relationship and past. In this moment there is nothing wrong. Not about him or us. We're alone in this world. We're always alone together. And then it occurs to me to ask—
"Why are we always alone together?" I sound lame. Pathetic, like a whimpering moron.
His breath is catching and he looks like he'd rather be shot than answer that question because he doesn't know how to. I know he can feel this because I can feel it. The fire between us. The electricity that is just screaming at us to kiss. But I can't. Being this close is sinful enough.
Aaron drops his hands to my waist. My breath hitches and I'm trying to count my heartbeats to keep myself distracted from everything that he is.
"You shouldn't be here," I whisper to him, the words stumbling and falling from my lips. "You should never have looked for me and found me. It's caused too much trouble."
"The only trouble I'm having, love," he replies, "is staying away from you. I'd be an idiot to think I'd be able to."
All of me is on the floor, a pile of melted Mara-ness. That's what he does to me. I wonder if he can feel that too.
"You didn't answer my question,"
"Because you won't like my answer,"
"Try me,"
"Well, maybe," Aaron's hands tighten their grip on my waist and I'm literally dying, "it's the universe's way of telling us there's no possible outcome of us not being together."
I chuckle softly. "I bet you'd really like to believe that."
A slight grin erupts on his lips. "I've never believed in anything but that, Mara."
I exhale gently. "You really need to stop saying my name like that, it's totally unfair."
"Like what?"
Like you want to undress me.
I'm glad the darkness covers my flushed cheeks. "Like you. . .you. . ." I shake my head. Stupid stupid stupid. "See? I can't even speak because of you."
"I've plenty of other ways of rendering you speechless, love, I don't need to simply say your name."
My jaw drops just a little. "Holy. . .did you just say that? Like, honestly?"
He laughs and it's the prettiest sound I've ever heard. So peaceful and careful. "This is precisely why I can't leave you, Mara. I find it hard enough to believe that you ever wanted me in the first place."
I bury a gasp. "You know I can't go with you," I say to him. "I have too many people here that I care about. Kenji's still in the med bay and I don't even know where Juliette and Isaac are. James is so little and he always looks to me for help. I can't. They need my help."
A pause. Then, "Meaning the only reason you won't come with me has nothing to do with me?"
"No," I say quickly. So quickly it shocks me into another world. "No, never."
"So you don't hate me?" He sounds nervous.
"You know I don't," I answer softly. "I told you already."
"I know that, I just. . ." Aaron swallows. "You'd be surprised how many people say that to me and end up tricking me, not that I ever believe them."
My heart splits a little. "But you know that I mean it, don't you?"
"Yes," he breathes, "Yes, I know it."
The silence is so loud. But not in an uncomfortable way, more of a way that says we both know what we want to do. I shouldn't. I should never have these thoughts and I should never think this and be so wrong and flawed but he's so perfect. He's so crooked and bad and awry but I can't look away. I'd rather go blind than look away.
"Aaron," I say his name like my life depends on it, even I can hear it.
He glances to the side like he can't bear to meet my eyes and I can see the perfect outline of his flawless jawline. It could cut ice. "Don't do this to me unless you want it, love," He still won't look at me. "Don't torture me."
I do want you. I promise I do. Swear. Pinky swear—anything you want me to do or say to reassure you I want you, I'll do it, is what I should say. But I don't. All I do is nod.
"I'm sorry," I mutter. "I shouldn't be so selfish around you—" As I walk away, his hand grabs my arm and pulls me right back.
"Don't ever walk away from me," Aaron's tone is pleading. "It's worse than any torment I've experienced."
My gaze meets his and his hand brushes against my arm as it rises to the back of my neck, the warmth sending electroshock waves through my entire being. Everything between us is so natural and so unnatural at the same time and all I'm thinking about is how right he was about the universe constantly shoving us together like two puzzle pieces, like two puppets forever intertwined.
I'm so close to his lips and I can't stop staring at them. Bold Mara wants to take over and kiss him because she thinks that only living once justifies doing wrong things. Luckily, Normal/Sane Mara keeps her in check but she's losing. My God, she's losing so horribly right now.
"Are we allowed to do things," I ask him, "that we might regret? That might be too rash and not thought through—"
"Yes," He sounds like he's clinging to every possibility of me.
"I'm sorry I can't come with you," I don't know why I'm apologizing, "but maybe this'll make up for it."
I lean in and stand on my tiptoes a little to reach him better. Suddenly my lips are on his and we're kissing like the stars are bursting and this is our last chance to love. Memories and promises we made assault me all at once, the taste of his lips making me remember our old days. This is true. Whatever we have is true and real and honest and raw and brutal and beautiful. This is just like it once was—just like it was two years ago—but with more fire and passion and longing. He wants me more this time around. He needs me more and I think I might need him too. His hands climb up to my lower cheeks and cup my face again like I'm made of feathers or glass—something so delicate I might break if he holds me too hard.
It's one of the many reasons I loved him so much. He was so gentle with me. So kind and sweet and benevolent. Nothing like anything I'd ever experienced before he came along. And now that he's here again and his lips are on mine and he's hungry for me, aching for and craving me.
But I'm reminded of every obstacle in our way. I'm reminded of everyone who hates the idea of us together and would do anything to break us apart. There's too much in this world that has it out for us. Too many cons and pretenders and fakes and evil. My friends may not be such a thing but they'd never fully understand. Maybe they would but the thought of having to lose them because of this breaks me. It would be my end. I fought so hard to have something that would make saying goodbye so difficult, however now I'm risking all of it.
I pull away shortly to catch my breath which shakes when I say, "You're everything I'm supposed to hate," But I never have. I never could. "You're everything I'm supposed to be against."
He kisses me again. Harder.
Stars seem to align. I can't describe it but it feels like a strange kind of release from cruel reality when his lips touch mine. It's a heavy sort of kiss that makes me glad his hands found my waist and are holding onto me.
Otherwise I might've fainted.
And that says a lot, considering I know this is wrong. It's wrong and so, so illogical and injudicious. I know it is. I'm aware of how much I'll hate myself when morning comes and this whole bubble of mine bursts and I end up laughing at myself for my own stupidity. For thinking that this would actually work.
I recognize the fault in what I'm doing but can't bring myself to stop. I keep hearing myself think it's just a kiss, it doesn't mean as much as you think, don't overthink it and repeat the declaration to myself over and over while his hands travel further down my waist, reaching the underside of my thighs and urging them up.
I realize then how much I'll regret doing as he asks but couldn't have cared less in the moment, giving a little jump and allowing my legs to wrap around his own waist. Only then do I fully discern how bad this fantasy of me and him together has been. How wrong I've been for thinking that this would only be a kiss and that this is all purely lust. It is it is it is. I'll repeat that mantra to myself as long as it keeps me from losing my mind.
He carries me over to the bed and gently drops me onto it, climbing over me yet not taking his lips off mine for even a second. Not until he decides to leave deep kisses over my throat and neck and leave me wanting more and more and more and loving that this is wrong. Loving the wickedness in it.
"Aaron," A quiet moan as he kisses me a little harder on my throat. I actually moan.
"God, do that again," he says to me, desperate and begging. He kisses me and his hand finds the bottom of my oversized shirt and he tugs at it. I don't think I've ever agreed with him more. He pulls it off me with no problems whatsoever and leaves me wearing my white pajama shorts and white bra.
Aaron won't stop calling me beautiful and stunning and breathtaking and kissing me everywhere. My hands are in his hair and it only now occurs to me how hopelessly I need him. How I feel I might pass away on the spot if we don't stay like this forever.
He pulls his own shirt over his head and reveals that flawless chest of his that I've always had trouble not drooling over. He's spreading my legs subtly, his strong arms separating them slowly and I can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe can't breathe—
"You want this, don't you?" He breaks away from the kiss to ask me this.
"Yes," I pull him close again. Speak against his perfect lips. "I need it."
"It or me?"
My words stammer. My brain stutters and my eyes blink. "W-What? It's the same thing—"
"It isn't," he explains. "Either you want an escape from reality or you want"—His breath trembles—"you want me. All of me."
"Aaron, I don't understand—"
"Do you want me?" His question is urgent and alarmingly so. It's like the realization is only now occurring to me—maybe I just need this escape. This release from everything hurting me. It isn't fair to him if I don't know the answer to his question. But I can't seem to care much at all.
"Aaron, don't be ridiculous—"
"Please, love," He squeezes his eyes shut and sits back against the wall. "Just tell me before I thrust myself into harrowing heartbreak again."
I swallow and make myself sit up too. "I don't know," I blurt out before I can stop myself. "I don't know what I want."
Aaron blows out a painful breath and swears under his breath, not meeting my gaze.
I quickly try to recover, "That doesn't mean I won't want you again," Oh, that sounds bad. Forcing away the cringing, I try again, "I'm sorry, okay? I just. . .I'm trying so hard to forget about what happened, a-and I know it was two years ago but you. . ." My heart sinks. "You really hurt me."
He nods, understanding. "That's fair."
"It isn't," I move towards him. Place one hand on his cheek and caress it delicately. What he'll never understand is that he's just as fragile to me as he sees me. I just want to keep him safe. Even if I feel unadulterated rage for him sometimes. "I'm so sorry I did this to you."
His hand snakes its way around my thigh and his thumb strokes it so carefully I might burst from the emotions betraying the words I'm saying. "Don't apologize to me, Mara. I put you through horrible pain by lying to you when you deserved only the truth. My only excuse is that I believed I could have ignorant bliss for even just a little while. Have someone who didn't know about my shameful past and personality to be with. You gave that to me and I threw it away. I'm so endlessly sorry, my love."
It hits my heart like a hammer. The realization that I won't ever be able to have him without the remembrance of what happened between us. The harsh words thrown around as we broke up and ended things. This is all a cruel, vicious game. It's like God is in the clouds, staring down at me and wondering how I could've screwed my life up so badly and only being eighteen years of age.
"You don't understand, Aaron," I climb into his lap and a small, nearly completely hushed gasp leaves his lips as his hands make their way back to my waist. "I'm sorry I've hurt you by not giving you what you deserve. You've been so gracious with your apologies and you've been so. . ." I chuckle. "You've been so lovely and I've not been able to reciprocate that. . ." I glance at his lips. They have a little of my rouge lipstick on them. "Love."
"That isn't your fault," he whispers to me. "I ruined it. Ruined my chances."
I'm crying now. Because I wish so badly that I could love him. That this world wouldn't be so savage and brutal and unfair. I wish we lived in a world where loving him would be normal. Be accepted and admired even. I wish so many things, every day. But they never come true.
"Don't cry," he says to me sadly, wiping away my tears with his fingers. Then rests his forehead against mine and kisses it. "I'm sorry I can't give you what you want. But I will try so very hard to change that. I will wait centuries for you, Mara. However long it takes for you to realize that my love has always been unconditional."
I whimper and shake my head. "See? You can't say things like that, it's totally unfair."
His chuckle is emotional. "Why?"
"Because it's, like, really poetic and stuff," I reply lamely. "And, first of all, I can't come up with that. Secondly, it makes it ten times harder not to fall in love with you."
His emerald eyes sparkle. "Then I'll never stop."
My smile is unstoppable, sad and glum and depressing but bittersweet. Because, I think, a part of me knows that this isn't over. We'll never be over and I believe we'll always find our way back to each other. I stifle a gasp. We never go out of style. I purse my lips. Now is not the time for Taylor Swift references.
I bite my lip nervously. "Hey, Aaron?"
"Yes, love?"
"Can I kiss you one last time?"
He's grinning now. "I'd like that very much, yes."
"Good, 'cause you're really handsome and it's getting really hard to not kiss you with every second that passes."
His laugh is cut off by my lips meeting his eagerly. Hotly. I need every inch of him right now but I can't have him because I don't know if it's this I want or him. Once upon a time, he was my everything. My sun and moon and daylight and nighttime. Now he's an old flame that I can't let go of. I don't think I'll ever be able to.
I push myself deeper into his lap and he groans, lifting me slightly so that my knees dig into the bed and I wrap my arms around his neck. He's so wonderful. He's so beautiful. He's so perfect and I'm leaving him. He's leaving me. We won't be together. That reminder only causes me to kiss him even more passionately, more hungrily. I need to be stuck in a loop of this night for the rest of my life. Even if—
KNOCK. ANOTHER KNOCK.
I freeze. Slowly pull away and lower myself onto his lap again. Turn my head to the door and wonder for a second who could even be there.
"Mara, wake the fuck up!"
Isaac. Shit.
I quickly face Aaron but he seems to already know what he has to do. I jump up and say I'll be right there, allowing him a few seconds to get himself sorted. Hidden behind the door.
Finally, I open the door and Isaac stands there, confused until he sees me and then his eyes widen and he instantly covers his eyes. "Christ, Mara, what the hell were you doing in there?"
"What do you—shit, my shirt—"
I just opened the fucking door whilst only wearing a bra. I can see Aaron in the corner of my eye, fighting a laugh.
Once I've thrown on a shirt, I return to Isaac and paste on the sweetest smile I can as he lowers his hands. "'Sup?"
"'Sup?" he repeats, disgust laced to his voice. "What d'you do, join a gang?"
"Shut up, you big baby, what do you want?"
"I need your help," he says seriously. "Juliette refuses to leave Kenji alone in the med bay if Castle's not there to watch over him but he still has a few things left to cover before he can visit."
I nod. "Alright, give me five minutes."
"Great," Isaac offers me a thumbs up. "Oh, also, people round here generally don't have a dress code but it's pretty important you don't come wearing only underwear."
At first, annoyance bites at me. Then I fight back with sarcasm. "Shit, what the hell am I gonna wear them? I have, like, a really sexy thong I was going to show up in."
Isaac grins. "Sorry, Mar, maybe next time."
I frown angrily. "This world gets suckier every day."
Isaac chuckles before he leaves and I shut the door.
Aaron reappears but he hasn't changed. He's still shirtless. And smiling. "Interesting way of greeting someone," he says. "Unfortunately I have no use of wearing a bra, so I'll have to come up with something more creative."
I shrug. "I've got a few really pretty ones that would suit you if you want."
Aaron laughs and leans in to kiss my cheek. As he pulls back, we both remember why he's here. Originally he wanted me to run away with him but since I can't do that, I take it he's leaving by himself.
I take his hand. "Please stay safe."
"And you really won't join me?"
"Aaron. . ."
"I know, I know," he says, "I just needed to hear it one last time."
I nod once and he gets dressed again, squeezing my hand and looking at me—really looking at me—before he opens the door and disappears down the hallway.
Taking my heart with him.
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09.07.2023
opinions so far?? don't feel pressured to comment tho lmaoo 😭