Dark Hearts

by Micalea Smeltzer

  “Yeah, Brenda told me I’d come home since it wasn’t busy. How’d the song writing go?” I nod to inside the apartment at his abandoned guitar.

  “Good.” He grins and for a moment he looks almost boyish. “I finished one.”

  “Are you playing it tonight? I want to hear it.”

  His eyes grow clouded and he looks away. “I don’t know, maybe. It’s still so new. I like to work out the kinks first, but I like it, so who knows.”

  I lean my back against the brick and stretch my legs out, wiggling my black-combat-boot-covered feet.

  The sky is cloudy, with the barest hint of the sun peeking through.

  Jace extinguishes his cigarette and we sit in silence for a bit.

  “It’s cold,” he says a few minutes later. “We should go inside.”

  I nod in agreement. The last thing I need is to get sick.

  I climb through the window first and he follows, closing it behind us.

  “Have you thought about your costume?” I ask him.

  He makes a face. “No.”

  “You better figure it out,” I tell him as I take off my coat. “All the good costumes will be gone.”

  “What do you think I should be?” he asks, taking a seat on the couch. I sit beside him, tucking my feet under me.

  “I don’t know.” I think for a moment. “What about Batman?”

  He rolls his eyes, stifling a groan. “No. Everybody is Batman, or Superman, or something with man in it.”

  I laugh, shaking my head. “Okay, so no to all of those.”

  “Have you decided what you’re going as?” he asks.

  “I have a few ideas.”

  “Tell me,” he pleads.

  “No.” I shake my head. “I want it to be a surprise.”

  “Is it sexy? Please tell me it’s sexy.” He gives me puppy dog eyes, his bottom lip curling under.

  “I’m not saying a word.” I mime zipping my lips and throwing away the key.

  He pounces on me, and I end up with my back flat against the couch with him over top of me. “I have ways of making you talk.”

  “Oh, you do, huh?”

  He nods and brushes his nose against mine before pressing his lips to mine. A little moan escapes my throat, and I curse myself for being so affected by him. It’s ridiculous, really, that one person can turn me to mush.

  He parts my lips with his tongue, and I moan again, my fingers grasping at the fabric of his shirt.

  I’m suddenly reminded of the feel of his body moving against mine this morning, and I tear desperately at his shirt, trying to get it up and over his head. He pulls away with a laugh, grabbing my hands and pinning them at my sides.

  “Nice try. Now tell me.”

  My brows furrow in confusion. “Tell you what?”

  He laughs deep from his belly. “Am I that good of a kisser?” When I still look confused, he adds, “Apparently, I am.” He lowers his head once more. “Tell me your costume ideas.”

  Oh. That. “No,” I say, my voice embarrassingly breathless.

  He kisses my neck. “Please?”

  “No.”

  He sticks his finger in the neck of my shirt and pulls it down, kissing the tops of my breasts.

  “Please?”

  I close my eyes, centering myself. “No.”

  He moves down my body and pushes my shirt up my stomach. His soft lips press tenderly to my stomach just above the band of my jeans. “Please?”

  “Jace.” I squirm, trying to get away as he unfastens the button of my jeans and eases the zipper down. I can’t even remember what game we’re playing, but I do know I’m about to lose.

  He slides my jeans down my legs and presses a kiss to the inside of each of my thighs. I whimper, trying to get away.

  “Please.”

  “Would you believe me if I said I can’t remember?”

  He chuckles. “I might give you a pass.”

  “I’ll tell you later, when I can form a coherent thought,” I pant as his hand skates past the band of my underwear. I gasp as he presses a finger inside me. “Oh, God.” My whole body clenches. “Jace,” I breathe his name, struggling to keep my eyes open.

  He pulls his hand away and rids me of the rest of my jeans, tossing them on the floor, and then slides my underwear down and off too.

  He spreads my legs and looks at me like I’m a feast laid out before him.

  He kisses his way down my thigh before he heads to where I want him the most.

  “Oh, Jace,” I cry out, one hand grabbing at the couch to hold on and the other tugging on his hair.

  Pleasure zings through my body, and I can barely maintain reality.

  His tongue swirls against my clit and I cry out, my back bowing above the couch. He presses his hand to my stomach, forcing me back down.

  He blows his hot breath against me and I whimper.

  He slips a finger inside me, then two, and curls them up.

  “Oh, my God,” I moan, biting my lip so hard that I taste blood.

  “I love your pussy,” he murmurs before licking me again.

  Color explodes behind my closed eyelids.

  “Give it to me,” he pleads.

  “Jace,” I pant. “Fuck. I’m … I’m …” I cry out as the orgasm hits me, powerful enough that my legs shake and tears prick my eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever come so fast in my life. I’m convinced Jace’s fingers and tongue are magic.

  He pulls his fingers from my body and kisses my stomach again where my shirt is still raised.

  Then he kisses my collarbone and finally my lips. I moan, tasting myself on his tongue. I thought I’d be grossed out by something like that, but instead I find that I’m incredibly turned on.

  I move to straddle him, and he pushes me back down on the couch, shaking his head.

  “We have to go.”

  I glance at the clock on the table beside the couch and curse. We have thirty minutes to get to the bar and I need to clean up and change.

  I nod and he releases me. He gets off the couch and heads to the bathroom.

  I take a moment to catch my breath before I stand and head to my room.

  I don’t even bother fixing my jeans since I’m going to change.

  I close my bedroom door, but I guess that’s pointless now. Jace has seen me naked plenty of times.

  I rifle through my dresser for a pair of shiny black skinny jeans. I pair it with a lacy black bralette and loose tank top. Then on top of that I wear an asymmetrical leather jacket to protect against the cold night air.

  I brush my hair and braid it all on one side so it drapes over my shoulder.

  “Shoes,” I mutter to myself, crouching down to rifle through the bottom of my closet.

  I settle on a pair of black flats, figuring that’s nicer than my usual boots.

  When I open my door, I find Jace stepping down from his room. He wears his usual ripped jeans, and a black t-shirt, paired with his heavy boots. His sandy hair is brushed away from his face and it makes him look older.

  “Ready?” he asks, tucking his shirt into his jeans and adjusting his belt.

  I nod and he grabs his black pea coat off the back of one of the kitchen chairs.

  He holds the door open for me and lets me step out into the hall first. We walk down the hall silently together, and I push the button for the elevator. I startle when I feel Jace’s hand pressed to the small of my back. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised he’s touching me, but I am. Jace doesn’t show much affection for anyone. I know he cares about his friends, me included, but his care is usually in his words, not his actions.

  The elevator opens and we step on.

  I expect his hand to fall away, and when it doesn’t, I smile and move a little closer to him. The smell of his cologne wafts over me which nearly makes me moan. It’s a mix of mahogany, bourbon, amber, and something else that’s entirely Jace.

  I itch to hold his hand, but I remind myself that he’s not my boyfriend and that whatever this is wit
h us is so completely new and it’s best not to rock the boat.

  The doors open and he guides me into the lobby and onto the street.

  “Do you want to take the truck?” he asks.

  I breathe out and smile when my breath fogs the air. “No.” I shake my head. “Let’s walk. It’s not that far and the night is beautiful.”

  Even though it’s not that late it’s already been dark for a few hours. The stars shimmer above us with a few clouds floating along. If I squint I can just make out the shape of the mountains in the distance in between the tall buildings.

  Jace nods, shoving his hands in his coat pockets.

  “What’s your favorite time of year?” I ask him. “Favorite season, I mean.”

  He shrugs and a wrinkle creases his brow as if it’s a question he really has to think about his answer to. “Now—fall. I like the colors of the leaves and the cold air. What about you?”

  “Same,” I tell him honestly. “There’s something magical about fall. The leaves are dying, but they’re beautiful in their demise. I want to be like that.”

  “Beautiful when you die?” He chuckles.

  I shake my head with a wistful smile. “No, I want to be graceful even when everything is falling apart. I want to be strong enough to not crumble when things get rough.”

  I startle when I feel his pinky loop through mine. I glance down at our joined fingers and then to his eyes. It’s not hand holding, but it’s something.

  “Why do I have a feeling that’s already true about you?”

  I look away, emotion clogging my chest. There’s so much about myself I haven’t shared with Jace—or any of my friends. I’ve tried so hard to bury that girl I was, but the fact is she’s right here. She’s me. No matter how many times I deny that, pretend I’m a whole new person now, it’s not true.

  “You have no idea how truly extraordinary you are,” he murmurs.

  When I lift my gaze to his, I find him looking at me tenderly. That look makes my stomach dip with happiness.

  We stop at a crosswalk, waiting for our turn to go, and he gently brushes his fingers over my cheek. I shiver and he smiles.

  He continues with, “I see you. I always have.”

  I think I stop breathing. In fact, I know I do because little spots begin to dance behind my eyes.

  Before I can respond it’s our turn to walk and we cross the street.

  I see you. I always have.

  I know he’s telling the truth, because I can say the same for him.

  There are some people who you just click with. It’s almost like déjà vu. You feel like you know them even if you’ve never met them before.

  We finally reach W.T.F. and he opens the door, letting me in first.

  The place is packed and we push our way through to the bar.

  I spot an empty barstool and snag it while Jace heads over to the stage area and says something to the person in charge, letting them know he wants to sing.

  The person nods and writes something on their clipboard before Jace makes his way over to me. There’s not a free stool anywhere, so he stands behind me.

  “Matilda isn’t working,” he whispers in my ear, as if he’s worried that I’m worried about her. I hadn’t thought about her once, but I do know she has a pissy attitude when it comes to Jace. I used to think it was because they had sex, but I asked him once and he was insistent that they never slept together but she’s mad because she wants to and he turned her down. “Do you want a drink?” he asks.

  “Yeah.” I nod.

  He leans around me, onto the bar, and motions for the bartender.

  “Hey, Lance,” he greets the bartender. “The usual for us.”

  “Sure.” Lance smiles and goes to mix our drinks. A chair opens up beside me, and Jace snags it. We’re so close together that his knee brushes mine.

  Lance slides our drinks in front of us and Jace tips his chin at him. “Thanks, man.” He walks off and Jace lifts his drink to his lips. Setting it down, he asks, “Do you want something to eat? Are you hungry?”

  “I’ll order something in a bit.” I need to eat dinner, but I’m not quite hungry.

  He nods and swivels in the barstool so he’s facing the stage. I do the same. A girl is currently playing the piano and singing a slowed down version of a song I’ve been hearing a lot on the radio.

  “Did you tell Cade, Rae, and Thea you were playing tonight? You know they’d love to come.”

  He shrugs. “Didn’t think about it.”

  He drums his hands against his seat like it’s no big deal.

  “We’re so bad at including them in things,” I mutter.

  He chuckles and removes his coat, draping it over the back of his chair. “Yeah, we are,” he agrees. “Sometimes they get to be a bit much. Don’t get me wrong, I love them, but …”

  “But what?” I prompt when he trails off.

  He shrugs. “It’s easier with you.”

  It should probably worry me with how much my heart soars at his words.

  Clipboard guy motions for Jace and he stands.

  “Wish me luck.” He flashes me a smile and then he’s gone.

  He makes his way through the diners and to the stage. There’s a guitar and he grabs it before sitting on the stool in the middle of the stage.

  He looks at home up there, like there’s no other place he belongs.

  He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, like he needs a moment to center himself, and then he pulls a pick from his pocket and begins strumming.

  He wets his tongue and opens his mouth. Like always, I’m immediately taken aback by the sound of his voice. It’s soft, and husky sounding, utterly and completely perfect. His voice cracks on some words, like he’s barely keeping a tap on his emotions.

  The words of the song pour of over me, and I realize with a startling clarity that this song is about me.

  My lips part in surprise, and I pay careful attention to each and every word, trying to decipher his meaning.

  “She thinks she's got it all figured out, but she’s putting on that damn mask again. Oh, she's a Supernova, Supernova, she's a Supernova, Supernova. It's what she is.”

  My heart beats faster.

  “And I watch as she changes her hair, trying to hide from herself. Oh, little does she know, I'm running from myself too.”

  And faster.

  “And I can see her hiding from the world. And I know she's got some pain, that I can't take way, take away.”

  My throat closes up and tears pool in my eyes. I don’t know whether they’re tears of sadness, or happiness, or a mix of both.

  He sings the song softly, giving it a melancholy edge, and my lower lip trembles because it’s beautiful, heartbreaking, and absolutely amazing.

  I feel touched, but also scared, because he’s noticed so much more about me than I give him credit for. He sees straight through me, to the parts I hide from everyone.

  Like the hair.

  He noticed that I dye my hair, because I’m trying to hide from who I really am.

  Most people look at Jace and see your stereotypical, tattooed, bad boy. But he’s more. So much more.

  He finishes the song, and as the last note hangs in the air, his eyes meet mine.

  I burst into tears while the patrons clap.

  The restaurant suddenly feels too small, too stifling, and I abandon my drink and chair, rushing through the building and outside.

  I burst through the heavy wooden doors onto the street.

  I inhale big breaths of the cold air, hoping it’ll soothe me, but I’m far too worked up. I bend, pressing my hands to my knees while his words swirl through my mind.

  The streetlight flickers above me, and I move away from it, walking down the street.

  The door to the restaurant flies open and I look back. Jace stands there, his coat hanging on his arm, and his hair now falling into his eyes.

  “Nova,” he calls to me, but I keep walking. “Nova!” His feet thud after me and a m
oment later his large hand wraps around my arm and he turns me around. “Nova,” he says my name again, softly this time, almost tender sounding. “You’re crying?” He frames it as a question even though it’s very obvious that I am, indeed, crying.

  I nod anyway, wiping at the stupid wetness clinging to my cheeks. “That song …” My voice is thick, clogged with tears. “You wrote it about me.”

  “That’s one.” I raise a brow at this and he adds, “I’ve written a lot of songs about you.”

  “You have?” My voice squeaks with surprise.

  He smiles, just a slight tilt of his lips like he feels shy over this fact. “I find that you’re very inspiring.”

  My brows furrow. “Like your muse?”

  He nods and slips his arms into his coat. He shivers, and I realize it’s grown even colder as the evening progressed. I didn’t even notice the temperature at first, my skin was so heated from being in the restaurant.

  “Yeah, exactly like that,” he adds. Softly, he says, “I didn’t think it would make you cry.”

  I count, breathe out, and force a smile. “It was beautiful but it …”

  “It what?” he prompts when I flounder for words.

  I shake my head. “I’ve never had someone see so much of me before. Things that I don’t even voice. You notice it all.”

  He shrugs and clears his throat. “It’s easy to notice something when it’s like looking in a mirror.”

  I swallow thickly. “We’re really fucked up, aren’t we?”

  He chuckles, and for some reason, that makes me laugh too. “Yeah, I guess we are. At least we have each other.”

  I inhale a deep breath and blow it out. “I still feel a bit freaked out,” I admit with a sheepish smile.

  He smiles sadly. “I probably shouldn’t have sprung that on you like that. I’m sorry.”

  I press my lips together and rock back on my heels. “Will you play it for me when we go home?”

  “Are you sure?” He raises a brow.

  I nod. “I want to hear it all. I ran out before you finished.”

  He glances back in the direction of the restaurant and then to me. “Should we head home, then?”

  I nod, shivering in the cold despite my coat. We start back toward the apartment and Jace pulls his cigarette pack from his pocket. He taps one out and cups his hands around the tip as he lights it. He inhales a long drag and blows it out, watching the smoke swirl through the air before it disappears.