Heartless

❆ Twenty-Four ❆

Twenty-Four

The world seemed to erupt into a chaos of noises: my blood pumping, my heart racing, his blood pumping, his heart racing, a voice far off in the distance screaming something I couldn't understand. All I could focus on was the burning heat in his touch and the way it seared every inch of skin it touched, the way his hands shot through my hair and snagged at tangled locks. His lips waited, either for mine to move or for me to reject him. But I did neither. I was paralyzed: he was so familiar to me, yet suddenly so different. I knew the sharp planes of his face, by heart, the wide mouth and thin lips that were always blue and purple and never red like Beast's. He had the dark shadow of a beard now, a harsh coarseness to his jaw that tugged at something inside of me.

    Slowly, my lips moved against his, easing their way into a difficult rhythm I wasn't sure how to match. His hands rummaged through my hair, his lips plundered mine as if they were his last drink of water in a desert. I pulled at the long strands of his hair and pushed at the hardness of his chest. His kiss was warm and gentle, soft and reassuring— but it wasn't what I needed. He wasn't what I needed.

    He wasn't Beast.

    His hand yanked at the hem of my shirt. The cold air that brushed against the skin of my stomach sent a ripple throughout my body. My eyes shot open. I slammed my hands against his chest and shoved him off.

    "I-I'm sorry," he stammered, his cheeks flushed as he inhaled several excited breaths. "I just... You don't know how much I've missed you."

    I touched my sore lips. I think I can guess.

    I couldn't bring myself to speak. He stared at me expectantly, waiting for me to smile or talk, but my tongue was frozen. Why did it have to be so hard? Two months ago, Gabriel was my best friend, practically a brother to me. Now I wasn't sure what to do.

    "He let you go?" he asked, still breathless, but I wasn't sure it was because of the kiss. A smile spread across his face.

    My knees weakened. I lowered myself onto the bed, curling my fists around the scratchy material of the sheets. "N-no," I murmured. "I'm still living with them."

    "For now," he spat. I turned my head to look up at him. "How long will it be until they hurt you? Or worse?" He knelt down before me and took my hands in his. "Adaira, I still want to marry you. Just say yes and I will take you away from here, from all of this. We can be happy, I promise."

    I dug in my coat pocket. My finger looped through the slick metal, the shiny surface that had been on my mind all night and day. I dragged it out and laid it in my palm. I ran my thumb over it. "I can't go with you, Gabriel."

    "If it's about Hendric and Kenji, we can get them back. Whatever those monsters have over you—"

    "It's not like that, and don't call them that; they're not monsters. They're my friends."

    He scoffed. "Friends? Adaira, they kidnapped you, held you hostage, and now you think they're your friends? All because they fed you and gave you clothes? You barely know them! You have to get out of there. The same hand that feeds you is also the one going to be wrapped around your throat, smothering you in your sleep!"

    I ignored the painful twinge of his words and blurted my own out. "Did you set the greenhouse on fire?"

    There. It was out. Finally, it was out. I had said what we had come to say. So I waited for him to say it, to tell me that he hadn't tried to burn down the palace, say that he hadn't set the fire. But when he opened his mouth, it was the exact opposite of what I wanted to hear.