by Rae, Nikki
He must sense my struggle because he leans his head to the side and says. “It’s okay. Don’t be afraid to feel what you feel. Not with me.”
I wrap my arms around his waist and pull myself closer. The only thing separating us now is the fabric of my bra. This thought would have terrified the old Sophie, but now, I’ve never wanted the barrier between us to disappear more.
Without another second of hesitation, I press my lips to his mark—my mark. Myles lets out a long breath, like he was holding it this whole time. He wraps his arms around me, his fingers lightly tracing the feathers of my wings. His lips are in my hair. I have never felt more at home than this, his chest against mine, skin touching skin, heart against heart. Some part of me has searched my entire life for a place where I just fit. It wasn’t with my parents or with the people at school. With my family and friends, I thought I had found it. With a piano, it made more sense. But this. This is where every broken piece of me fits in to. Every nick, bruise, and crack disappears, like it never even existed before this moment.
I kiss his neck and taste his blood again. My fangs poke out and I don’t care. I’m not going to bite him. I just want to make it better. Once he’s clean, I look at the mark again. It’s closed up now, but still raw and red where I pierced the skin.
My lips trail up his neck, around his throat, only calming when they settle on his mouth.
Myles’ arms encircle me. “We don’t have to,” he whispers in my ear.
I kiss him again and stand, holding out my hand for him. He takes it and I lead him the short distance to the bed. All I want is him. So much closer. I’m not afraid. I’m not nervous. I just want to let my body feel without my mind shutting it down.
He kisses me when we’re sitting down on the clean, black comforter. “I mean it,” he whispers. “I don’t want you to do this is you’re not sure about it.”
I continue pressing into him, entangling my hand in his hair. He gently pulls away. I expect him to repeat himself again, but he just stares at me—into me.
“Are you sure?” he asks finally.
I cup the side of his face. “I’m not sure of anything anymore,” I say. “But this,” I pause, taking my free hand and placing it on his chest, causing a fissure between us. “This is one of the only things I can count on.”
Myles takes my hand and presses it into his chest even more. My palm tingles, my fingers are electrified with the thin beating inside. He leans his head down so he can kiss my neck, then my mark—his mark. The air that leaves his mouth is cool but it warms on my skin, which is growing hotter and hotter.
He’s babbling when there’s any type of pause. “I’m sorry about everything,” he whispers. Or, “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” Then, “I love you.”
He doesn’t need to say anything. I know. I know because I love him too. It’s hard to admit, that after everything we’ve put each other through, that this is where we belong, but it’s easier to accept it. It’s easier to let go. Let the waves drag us under.
“Myles,” I interrupt.
His head snaps toward me, maybe afraid that he’s made me uncomfortable. That’s not going to happen. That’s not going to happen anymore or ever again.
“It’s okay,” I tell him. He needs to hear it more than anything right now, especially because it’s true. Everything outside of these four walls may be howling at the door, huffing and puffing. But none of them can get in.
“I love you,” he says again. His voice comes out rough around the edges, but it isn’t from fatigue, the way it was before. This is something different, new. This is something that makes my muscles tense, but not with fear. Something that keeps my lips against his, pulling him closer, needing him closer.
I fall back on the mattress, hanging onto him, afraid that the movement will break us apart when it’s impossible. We can’t come apart. We have the same emotions, the same blood. There is so much of me in him and he in me already. There is no way that two people so entwined can ever become anything less.
I pull my face away eventually, just to catch my breath, which I still need. Myles doesn’t, however, and he takes advantage of the fact.
His lips trail down my neck, my throat, collarbone, and then my chest. He plants three soft, careful kisses there. Then, after hesitating for a second he places yet another, lower this time.
His eyes are the only things that move then. Up to mine, where I reassure him that this is what I want. He closes them again and I close mine as well. His hands reach behind me, pulling me closer to his touch.
Such a simple sensation. One I’ve felt a million times before while undressing and getting into the shower. But when the elastic around me goes slack, there is a split second of uncertainty, only that long. I wonder if I’m supposed to be scared or uneasy. I’m not. I’m anything but. His hands are soft. Softer than I have ever felt them before. I’m not sure if it’s because of my heightened senses or because no one has ever touched me there before. Not when I wanted them to.
My hands are in his hair again. He glances back up, looking for any signs of distress.
Are you okay? It’s in my head. It vibrates through me. Becomes part of me.
Yes. I don’t even have to try. I know he’s received the message. Keep going.
Myles moves upward again, and my heart beats faster and faster the closer he gets to my face. He pauses in the middle of my chest, listening to the sound, flicking his tongue out in time with the pound beneath the flesh.
I smile and he smiles against my skin before coming all the way back to my lips.
I’m barely conscious of his weight on me, his full weight. I’m too preoccupied with the sensation of his bare skin against mine. This time, there is no barrier. Just us.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes into my mouth.
I want to say something back but there are no words my brain can form that will make sense once they leave my body.
My hands twine their way around the waistband of his jeans, then his do the same, around mine.
The same feeling. The same familiar-new feeling of fabric leaving skin. I wonder if he feels it too. I wonder if he gets a slight chill when the air in the room hits him, when my hands warm his skin.
Okay? He asks again.
I have a hard time not laughing, but I let it out. “Myles, shut up.”
He laughs too, letting go of whatever doubt that he had in his mind that this is what I want. “Okay,” he says, this time in agreement and not in question.
Then the process begins again. First he kisses my lips. Then neck, chest, then new places. Places no one has ever really touched before. Not like this. Not in a way that sets fire, cools it down, then rekindles the flame. I don’t think there is a single scar he doesn’t trace with his mouth before his mouth rejoins mine.
There is a moment, when we’re kissing, nothing separating us but skin, that he seems hesitant. He stares at me for a long time, tracing the slope of my hip with his fingers as I do the same to him. I didn’t think it was possible for something to be hard and soft at the same time, the way his torso is underneath my palm.
“It’s okay,” I repeat softly. Nothing has ever felt so right. No other pieces have ever fit as well. “I want you to.”
His eyes, bright blue, search for a second more before his expression relaxes completely. “You’ll tell me to stop if you need to?”
I nod. “I promise.”
There may still be some scrapes, some dents in both of us. But that doesn’t matter now. There is nothing else. And slowly, two broken pieces become one whole. The cracks get filled in.
Chapter 17
Shaded Memories
“Dig in like you can bury something that cannot die.”—The Local Natives
Morning comes to me slowly, like I’m sinking in a pile of soft, warm sand. Everything behind my eyelids spins and then stops, tilts and then becomes stable. I want to wake up but I don’t. I want to stay in this place, between consciousness and unconscio
usness forever. Gradually, reality snakes around me. The smooth comforter touching my bare shoulders, the smell of blood mixed with something clean like soap or detergent, the solidness of someone sleeping next to me. When my eyes open, the sun is shining through the window above the bed, hitting me square in the chest.
I scramble to cover myself with the blankets, and roll over so the rectangular beam of light won’t burn my skin. Myles is next to me, wrapping an arm around my back, holding me still. The light is now on my shoulder, warm. At any moment, the heat could turn into a burn, then a blister. I really can’t afford to have a sun related issue right now on top of everything else.
“Get off.” My voice is raw, but I barely hear it over the pounding of my pulse in my temples. I try pushing him away but he doesn’t move, which means I can’t either.
“Sophie, stop,” he says. “It’s not hurting you.” He kisses my forehead like it will calm me down.
“Not yet,” I say, grabbing hold of the arm he has draped over my shoulders and neck, locking me in place.
“No,” he says. “I’ve been watching for a few minutes, waiting for you to wake up.”
“You just watched? What are you waiting for, the red splotches to start forming or the fever?”
“Sophie,” he repeats my name and it’s hard to ignore the warm shiver it sends through me. “I don’t think the sun can hurt you anymore.”
That makes me stop. “What?”
He loosens his grip so he can place a hand on my clavicle, where the sun was before. “It’s not burning you,” he says, moving his fingers to my shoulder, where the light is now.
I touch it too. It doesn’t hurt. It doesn’t even feel especially hot. It’s just a dull, warm temperature.
“Does that mean...”
I can feel his lips against the back of my neck and they smile. “I think you’ve finally grown out of it,” he says. “Having blood in your system probably enhances your vampire abilities. One of them being how human illnesses won’t bother you anymore.”
I laugh. “All this time covering up and dodging sunlight and all I had to do was become a vampire to get rid of it.”
We both laugh a little, then we’re silent, watching the square sliver of sun play on my skin.
“How are you feeling?” he asks after a while.
I’m not sure if he’s asking how I feel physically or if he’s talking about our relationship and where we stand, or what happened between us last night, after our clothing was lost, after we lost ourselves.
“I feel...” I’m not quite sure how to word it. “Pretty amazing,” is what I settle on, though it doesn’t encompass everything. There isn’t one single word that can do that.
He pulls me closer to him and the covers fold between us, separating our bodies. He throws an arm around me, underneath everything, skin to skin, and all I want to do is melt into his touch. Colors play at the back of my eyelids but this time, I’m not afraid of them. Blues, pinks, and yellows shimmer together and come apart, swirling like an oil spill.
“I’m sorry about the painting,” I say into the sheets.
Myles only brings me closer. “I’ll make you a new one,” he says. “A better one.”
He kisses me behind the ear, sending heat through my face and neck. For a moment, I think about bringing up everything that brought us to this point. How scared I am of everything.
But he rolls over so his face is just above mine and he kisses me again, the sunlight playing on our skin. “I love you,” he whispers before kissing my cheek.
“I love you too,” I say.
I know what waits outside of this room, outside of these blankets, where things are more complicated and scary than two people forever entwined. I know that once we get up, once we part, everything will speed up again. That I might not even be able to experience this again with him.
So when he kisses me, his warm breath on my mouth, I let him. I sink, unconcerned about trying to stay afloat. When his tongue gently slips over mine, asking for more, I give it to him. When my hands trail up his back and around his shoulders, pleading with him, begging for just a few more precious moments of calm, he lets me have them. The thin barrier between us slips away so our bodies can touch, unafraid, beneath the hotel sheets.
When we’ve woken up for the second time that morning, I ask, “What time is it?”
Myles is busy playing with my hair, gathering it together and letting it gently fall on my neck and shoulders, sending goose bumps up my arms and back. My head is resting on his chest, and it rises and falls with each breath he takes in and lets out. If I watch closely enough, I can tell that he forgets sometimes. Once every so often, his chest stays still for too long, he doesn’t take in or let out air. I know this is something that his body must do on auto pilot by now, but if he were in front of anyone else besides me, he wouldn’t forget. He doesn’t have to be as careful with me. He can be himself, completely, the way he lets me be the person I hide from everyone else.
“Ten,” he says after too much time has passed.
“The bus is leaving at eleven,” I say, remembering the number written somewhere on the agenda I got at the beginning of tour. I must have only glanced at it a few times before it got lost in my suitcase, but I can picture it in my mind as if it were in front of me.
“Where are you playing tonight?”
I shrug. “A place called Al’s. It’s a small bar in Buffalo.” My hand finds his, squeezes it, trying to hang on to the calmness that can and will dissolve at any moment. “It’s our last show,” I say, realizing how close we are to home. Seven hours tops.
“And what time do you leave tomorrow?” he asks, his free hand trailing up my spine, tracing my wings without even looking at them. He knows every part of me. Inside and out.
“I think they’re planning on like, six in the morning,” I say, closing my eyes. “But we’ll probably be out until three.”
“When you find out, let me know,” Myles says. “So I can follow you.”
“Or,” I say, pressing myself into him more. If I’m not careful, things could get carried away. My fangs could pop out, our clothes may never find their ways back to our bodies. “You could just come on the bus with me. There’s an extra bunk.” I kiss his cheek. “Or we could share mine if you want.”
He smiles. “Are you sure about that?” he asks. “It could get kind of cramped in there.”
I kiss him again, lightly. I can tell he wants more but I pull away. We don’t have time to get lost right now. “That’s fine with me.”
His hands trail up and down my back slowly. If he doesn’t stop, I can’t be responsible for what happens.
“Me too,” he says.
“Good.”
“Your brother won’t like that.”
I shrug. “I know.”
“So maybe it’s not a good idea?”
I pretend to think about it, but I don’t have to. “I don’t care,” I admit. “I know he just wants to protect me, but he wants me to be happy too. He’ll get over it.”
He smiles a little but I can’t be sure that I’ve convinced him of anything.
“So...” I say, “We should maybe get dressed?”
He sighs. “Do we have to?”
I laugh and it sounds more like a giggle. If I was with anyone else, I’d want to punch myself in the face for it. But this is Myles. He’s seen me. All of me. I don’t care if I act like a giggling little girl when we’re alone.
“I mean, it’s up to you,” I say. “But I feel like you might make the other people on the bus a little uncomfortable.”
“We wouldn’t want that,” he says.
But neither of us moves yet.
We meet Boo and Trei in the hotel lobby first, my brother nowhere in sight. “Look who I found,” I say before they have a chance to mention the person standing next to me, holding my hand. As long as we’re touching, I don’t have to think about how messed up everything is right now. I don’t have to worry about anything besides us.<
br />
“Hey!” They say in unison, scooping Myles into hugs as I refuse to let go of him.
“Hi, guys,” he says casually.
“We thought you were busy,” Trei says.
Myles shrugs. “I was,” he says. “But I found some time and I missed you guys.”
“Aww,” Boo says. “Isn’t he cute?”
“Well you made it in time for our last show at least,” Trei says.
I adjust my sunglasses on the bridge of my nose. Myles and I both decided it would be best to keep up the sun allergy routine, just because it’s easier than trying to come up with a human reason why something I had since I was little just disappeared this morning. “Where’s everyone else?” I ask.
“Honus is already on the bus,” Boo says, “But they’re getting directions from the bar owner right now, so we have time.”
“Where’s Jade?” I ask, almost scared to know the answer.
Trei and Boo look at each other before they look back at me. I can hear what they’re going to say before they even open their mouths.
Boo: I thought she would know
Trei: I thought he was with Sophie. Weren’t they sharing a room?
That’s new. Myles’ blood must be doing something for my vampire abilities.
“You don’t know?” Trei asks.
“Maybe he’s still sleeping?” I suggest. “He didn’t really feel that good yesterday.”
Trei nods and Boo says, “Think you can go get him? I don’t think we can be late to this thing.”
I take one look at Myles’ hand in mine before my eyes travel up to his. A half-moon shape appears in the corner of his mouth. “Go ahead,” he says. “I’ll wait here.”
He hugs me and kisses me on the cheek. I have to get my backpack anyway. I direct at him without much effort.
