Starborne

Chapter 20

It felt like ages before Stefin responded, and I was trapped in the endless stagnation of those moments. Weakness was anything but a virtue, and I’d just basically rolled over and shown him my throat. 

I expected some hollow, uncomfortable words of consolation or repentance. He was supposed to feel bad for pushing me too far, and give some empty condolences to make up for it. 

Instead, Stefin shifted closer to me, and lifted his hand to my cheek. I was confused by the motion, before I felt the wetness against my skin and realized I was pathetically crying a trail of silent tears. 

Mortification shot through me, and I frantically tried to scramble away, which sent a searing bolt of pain to my injured ankle. It was all too much, hurt too much, and I couldn’t escape it. 

“Holly, look at me.” Stefin rumbled gently, reaching for my shoulders and pulling me carefully close. 

I allowed myself to sink into his embrace, but refused to let him see my face, ashamed of being so raw in his company. 

Warm fingertips pulled at my chin, lifting me to his gaze despite my silent protests. Finally I gave in, looking up through damp lashes, tears refracting my vision. 

“I know it hurts.” Stefin spoke, gently. “It’s allowed to hurt.”

I knew he wasn’t talking about my ankle, obviously, but I allowed the emotional intrusion. The comfort somehow felt good, and I rested my head on his shoulder until the stream of tears slowly stopped. 

Minutes passed by comfortably, as his fingers traced circles on my back and my face became sticky as the tears dried against his shirt. I eventually sat up out of his embrace, sniffing gently and wiping the back of my hand against my eyes, 

“I can’t tell you any more.” My voice was weak, I felt stuffed full and also somehow empty. 

“You don’t have to.” I could feel Stefin still looking at me intently. “I’m sorry for pushing.” 

I nodded, accepting the apology even though it wasn’t really necessary. It was harder than ever to push everything back into my mind, to patch up cracks in my compartmentalization. The efforts were proving futile, panicking, I felt another wave of emotions bursting forth. 

Looking up at Stefin, I found him studying me. His face was closer than I thought, and that perpetual pull between us sparked some calm deep inside me. Half in an effort to stave off more tears, and the rest because fuck, it was time, I threw everything else out of my mind and breached the gap between us. 

When my lips touched Stefin’s, he didn’t pull away, but didn’t immediately react either. What that meant, I wasn’t sure, but part of throwing caution to the wind included not fixating on any more minutiae.

Somewhere in the middle of my internal dialogue, Stefin’s arms circled around me, pulling me forward into his lap. Any pain in my ankle had been banished by the feel of his mouth against mine: warm, soft, and urgent. 

I’d kissed my share of boys and men, some good and some bad. None of them, not a single one, compared to Stefin. 

Firm lips and gentle, traveling hands lulled me into a state of bliss. My mouth opened of its own accord, releasing a soft gasp, allowing his tongue to slip inside. I kissed back with increased urgency, loving the feel of stubble on my cheeks, his taste and smell overwhelming my senses. 

I moved my hands upwards, over his strong biceps and built back, to bury them in his soft hair. I tugged slightly, moaning as he bit my lip in response. His hands traveled as well, one circling my waist and the other grasping the back of my neck in an unyielding hold. 

We were intertwined, lost in each other, breathing only desperation and need. Hot and wet, we each wrestled for dominance, I was seeking some sort of control within the flames traveling over my skin. Stefin broke from the kiss with a growl, dragging his mouth over my jaw and down my neck. I adjusted in his lap, hands pulling on his hair with more urgency as my body sought some friction, some balm to the urgency that coursed through me. 

“Holly.” Gritty and deep, his voice sent shivers down my back as he breathed into my ear. I answered with a small moan, trying to pull him back to me. 

“Holly.” He made no effort to pull away, but the question in his voice made me still. 

What the hell was I doing?

“Fuck.” I gasped, pulling out of Stefin’s arms and trying to gain some distance. Pressed up against him, everything tasted and smelled like us, and I desperately breathed in some calming air devoid of pheromones. 

In the moment, kissing him seemed like the perfect distraction, but we’d quickly gone past that and further complicated the situation. 
“We shouldn’t have done that.” I broke first, even though I cursed everything pulling us out of the moment. 

Stefin was still close enough for me to feel his responding sigh against my cheek. 

“I know.” He stood off of the bed, cueing the typical resulting throb from every cell in my body. Stefin took a step towards the door, running his hand through the disheveled hair I’d pulled on and helplessly mussed. I pushed back further into myself, wrapping my arms around my chest as I shifted away from the edge of the bed. 

“Thank you for carrying me back here.” It felt hollow, I felt hollow, for not aptly recognizing the importance of such a moment. 

“I’ll go get the physician.” Stefin sounded conflicted, but I didn’t want to lift my head to see if the same emotion was present on his face. 

“Okay.” As he mentioned it, my ankle throbbed with renewed urgency.

I found the strength to look back up at Stefin as he left, and caught his eye as he hesitated at the door. 

Suddenly he was back, filling my head with more of him, kissing me sweetly this time, gentle. 

“I’m not leaving it like that. You need medical assistance first, but we’ll talk. I refuse to let you turn this into a mistake.” My heart burst with relief and something more at his words. “Rest now, Holly, I’ll be back.”

I found myself beaming at him, unable to disguise my genuine joy. 

“Okay.” No longer despondent, but now in shock, I was barely able to squeak out a reply before he left the room. 

In the next few hours I endured poking and prodding from nurses and physicians as they bound my ankle and swept away the telltale sandalwood with antiseptics and technical chatter. Eventually everyone left, but I remained in bed, waiting for Stefin to return. 

The afternoon turned to night, and the quick acting potions the doctors gave me made my sprained ankle feel good as new. They told me it would hold my weight again in a few hours and be barely noticeable the next day, but I was wary to leave my room in case Stefin came back. I realized once a hush had swept the castle that he wouldn’t be visiting that night. Vague disappointment lulled me to sleep, along with a firm decision that I would find him the next day. He had taken the first step, and it was my turn to reach out. Not for the first time, grey eyes filled my thoughts as I drifted off, but this time they were filled with luminescent colors.