His Hunter

XVIII | Turn

Cole had been awake for a while. He'd fallen asleep, but it had never been deep. He drifted in and out, his mind spinning after what had just happened. 

But now, he was awake. He was wide awake, and couldn't wrap his head around it. It seemed like it had been a different dimension, a dream world. (Because he had dreamed about it before.) But it hadn't been. It was real, and Cole clung to that fact so tightly his knuckles turned white. 

Lionel lay against Cole's body. His golden eyelashes fluttered occasionally as he dreamt. A small lock of hair fell perfectly between his eyes. Cole had taken it upon himself to find all the scars on Lionel's body. He wanted to see every little imperfection because of what they represented...what they meant. 

It scared Cole how many there were. Most of them very small, faded. But they were there. Cole hated that the world they lived in was so raw, so brutal. 

But Lionel's scars were more than just pain...they were hope. They reminded Cole that they had a future. They had each other. They had their pasts, but nothing was insurmountable. 

Cole didn't want to wake Lionel. He was so perfect as he slept. There was still so much to do, so much to overcome. But it was time to wake up. Cole had work to do, and he wanted Lionel to know he was doing it. He was ready. 

He slowly eased out of bed, pulling his clothes back on. Lionel's head fell against the pillow, but he didn't wake. Cole smiled to himself and walked up to the window. It was snowing. The world seemed new. Cole rubbed his arms as he approached the bed again. He lay back down beside his mate. 

He stayed silent as he reached up, gently sliding the stray lock of hair away from Lionel's face. He began to trace the lines that made up Lionel's identity: the curve of his nose, the smoothness of his jaw, the softness of his lips. 

Lionel's eyes nearly invisibly opened. The moment they did, he smiled. Cole couldn't help it. He smiled back. Seeing Lionel smile like that, happy and light, was like a spell. Cole couldn't escape it, but he didn't want to. 

Lionel arched his neck and gently pressed his lips to Cole's. He didn't say anything, but Cole could feel his love, his peace, his gratitude, and his relief without words. 

"Are you glad?" Cole asked. His voice barely made it past his throat. 

Lionel's reply was to press his chest to Cole's, weaving their legs together and lightly touching the brand new mark on Cole's neck with his lips. Cole smiled and wrapped his arm around Lionel's bare body, accepting the closeness easily and enjoying the buzz the mark gave him. Lionel's hands, as they always did, made their way to Cole's hair. 

"I can't breathe, I'm so happy," Lionel said, resting his head on Cole's chest. 

"Are you ok?" Cole asked. "I mean, your body is-" 

Lionel pressed his lips to Cole's again. "I'm fine," he said into Cole's mouth. "I'm perfect." 

Lionel stretched his body like a cat. Cole watched him, enchanted. "You feel hot, though," Cole said. "Is that normal?" 

Lionel raised his head. "Hm? I'm hot? Thank you very much." 

Cole scowled. "I'm serious. I want you to be ok." 

Lionel sat up quickly, the blanket falling away from his body. Any arousal Cole might've felt at seeing Lionel's unfairly beautiful body was overshadowed by his worry. "I'm fine!" he insisted. But the moment he said it, his face transformed. He went a little pale and curled up back beside Cole, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Cole felt fear, cold in his veins. "You're not fine." 

"I just sat up too quickly," Lionel said, still not opening his eyes.