The Wastelands (Part II of the Runner Series)

Chapter 19

The door to my bedroom swings open and we stumble inside. He lifts me in one smooth motion and I lock my legs about his waist, using him as leverage to bring my mouth down on top of his. I absorb his breath, letting it fill me, drinking him in as though our kisses could chase away the ache in our hearts.

"Kay." His voice is hoarse, strangled. I kiss him more urgently in response, not wanting him to speak. Somehow, I know what he wants to say and I don't feel myself ready to hear it. For this moment, being away from him for so long, all I want is to feel him against me. With me.

He carries me over to the bed and lays me down. Gently. Too gently.

"Will." I reach up to bring his lips to mine again. He sinks down onto the bed next to me, wrapping his arms around my back, drawing me closer. I feel myself melt against him and tug the jacket off of his shoulders, slipping my hands down the collar of his shirt.

He growls low in his throat and pulls back, cupping my face to force my eyes into his.

I feel my lips still swollen with his kisses as I stare at him, bringing one hand up to gently brush the yellowing cut at his temple. From here I can see that the wound has created a white slash across his dark hairline. Another scar.

"Do you wish to talk?" I murmur, allowing the challenge to hang between us.

His voice is rough, his dark brows knitting together. "No."

I wait, watching him intently. "But you think that we should."

Some of the old, steely spark has returned to his eye. "Yes."

"I see." I lean back on my elbows, tilting my head at him. "Quite the conundrum. Perhaps I can help you with that." I tug gently on the sleeve of my tunic, slipping one shoulder free. His eyes flick down to the exposed skin and his fingers gently trace the scattering of freckles and scars.

I sit up, letting my shirt slip down further. "Let's fight later. This moment is for us."

He pushes my hair behind my ear. The feeling of his fingertips against my skin sends shivers down my spine. Slowly he traces the tender flesh, drawing an agonizing line from my neck down to my back before he flattens his palm and brings me towards him.

His chest is both firm and fragile beneath my hand and I hold him more securely, desperate to protect him, protect us from the imperfections outside of this room. The rest of the world no longer makes sense. All that matters is this.

"I love you." His words are warm in my ear, breathing the only promise we have managed to uphold.

"I love you." I utter my vow and turn my mouth to his, drinking in the last of our words.

* * * * *

I float on the fringes of oblivion, drifting in and out of awareness. I am lying curled against Will's side, our bodies a tangle of limbs amongst the sheets. His breaths are steady and I watch with mild interest as his chest rises and falls.

I don't wish to speak. If we say nothing then the spell we have woven can never be broken. We can exist like this forever.

I know he is thinking the same thing by the way he stares glassy-eyed up towards the ceiling. After a time he turns to me, his fingers tangling absentmindedly in my hair as he lifts it from my shoulders, allowing a breeze from the open balcony doors to cool my back.

My skin goose pimples, but not from the sensation of the night air against my flesh. We lock eyes, a reluctant, wordless agreement passing between us before we ease ourselves up into seated positions on the bed.