Those Cold Eyes ✓

Chapter 13

His heat. It seeped into me, wound around me until I couldn't breathe. My blood boiling.

I panted into our kiss, our violent, mind-numbing kiss. I couldn't get enough, yet I couldn't take anymore. It was too much. I broke it. I broke my hold of his lips. I thought he would let me go, but he dived into my neck, sucking at my skin, biting, kissing. I groaned loudly, feeling him flushed against me, feeling his mouth on my skin, feeling the cool night air against my bruised lips, wet from his kiss.

I weaved my fingers tighter in his hair, gripping it, tugging. I felt him respond, tightening his hold around me, his kisses growing fiercer.

He took me further and further away, and I kept slipping, I kept losing my hold of myself. I wanted to collapse, but he held me steady.

Then he stopped. He tore away, and I caught sight of the scared gleam in his eyes. He looked like a deer caught in the head lights, but there was pain there too.

"Stay away from me!" he growled, but his voice didn't carry the conviction it usually did.

"No," I said, trying to keep my voice even. He turned his back on me, walking away - his action was like a cold shower to my senses. The haze vanished and I found myself chasing after him. I had no intention of letting him go, not when he walked away from me out of fear. He had nothing to be afraid of. I had. I was the one who should walk away, but I couldn't

"You're not leaving!" I hissed, all sense of calm gone from my system. I grabbed hold around his arm, pulling him back.

He turned around, anger contorting his face. He raised his fist, but I held the stare. I wouldn't back down this time. I wouldn't let him do this. Now I knew there was something more to us. I knew he was attracted to me. I knew he was running, and I wouldn't let him. Slowly I saw the anger dissipate, only to be replaced by fear and pain once more.

"I'm not letting you," I said, softer this time. "I'm not letting you go."

"Do you think you can stop me from leaving?" he replied, his voice cold and brutal.

"Yes," I whispered, baring my soul for a short moment, making me feel completely vulnerable. I wanted to drop my gaze, but I forced myself to keep looking. I had to be stronger than this if I wanted to reach him.

His eyes seemed to glaze over, like he was lost, lost in memories. Then they snapped into focus again, burning in anger.

"Stay away from me."

"No, I won't," I said again, this time firmly.

I still held him, and I wouldn't let him go. He tried to shove me away, but I grabbed around him with my other arm, keeping him in place.

"Fuck off! Don't touch me." His voice, so pained. It pierced me, like the sound of a wounded animal—scared, agonized.

"No, I'm not letting you go."

I pressed my body to his, holding him close to my body. Forcing him to remain with me. His struggles intensified, but I refused to let go. He trashed, kicked, whimpered. Then he stopped. He stopped and it was as if all tension just fled his body.

"No." His voice was quiet, pleading.

I began to stroke his back, hugging him with everything I had, holding him while he started to shake. I felt a drop of water fall on my shoulder, a tear. A tear that crashed into me. A tear that somehow released me—released him. I was getting through.

I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what, and I didn't know if it would help. Perhaps he just needed this, this quiet moment, the embrace. I wanted to ask, I wanted to know, I wanted to know everything—but I knew that one little slip, one tiny little mistake could shut him up again. I couldn't risk it. So I just held him. I held him while his tears soaked my skin.