The Flames that Engulfed Us

Chapter 50: Little Talks

Lincoln put his arms around me as we both still sat on the bed. We feel back so we were just laying with our legs dangling over the edge. Lincoln's brown eyes found their way to mine. I could see my whole reflection in them, and I watched myself in it.

"It's nicer than I expected here," he said after a while.

"The Devil's mean. I don't think he's evil."

"Nothing's evil to you, but I suppose you have a point. He seems like he has a temper problem, but he doesn't seem evil. I don't think I'll ever remotely like him or even have feelings of neutrality, but I guess you're right."

"I don't know. I think he's having a hard time. I want to know why, just for drama's sake, but I have to give him a little leeway for that."

"He admitted to murder."

I did my best imitation of the Devil's voice. "Causing death. There's a difference you stupid humans."

Lincoln laughed, and the sound of that made me happy.

"Whatever you say, but he's still in charge of people dying."

"I didn't say I like him. You don't have to prove he's dislikable to me."

"I know. Sky, I wish I could let go of things like you do."

"I don't let go of things. Not really."

"But the thing is, you don't hold people's actions against them. You judge them in the moment and then you reassess again in the next moment. It's almost like everyone's on an incognito browser with you. I wish I could do that."

"You make it sound like that's something to admire. I don't think it is. You realize, I never learn. I think that people are good, so if they're bad, they can be as bad as they want as many times as they want, and I forgive them every time."

"I know you, Skylar Flemings. You aren't stupid or weak. You don't set yourself up for things like that, but you forgive. If you meet someone and they have a bad first impression, you can forgive them, get over it, and then get on later like best friends. I can't do that."

"Who have I done that with?"

"Me." He answered simply.

"You?"

"Yeah. I was, am, a jerk. You saw that, but we talked, and you acted like I wasn't. You still look at me like I'm worth the way you love me."

"Because you are. You are, Lincoln. I can't give you enough to be what you mean to me. What you've done for me."

"You know, you're the only one who thinks that. The people down here, or there or wherever it is now, all thought I belonged there. C.C. will tell you. I'd probably kill him if he tried, but he would."

"Lincoln, baby. Look at me."

"I am." He murmured softly.

"You are the love of my life and the infatuation of my death. I can't think of anything that you could do or any flaw that you could have that could change that. If you love me and think that I'm so great, you can't honestly think that about yourself because we're the same, Lincoln. You are the part of me that I need most. I can't function right without you anymore. You make me who I am. If you like me, you owe at least a huge chunk to yourself."

"Sky..."

"Shh. Let's just lay here, curl up under the covers, and just not talk for a little while. We can figure everything out later."

I pulled my boots off, and Lincoln pulled his shoes off too. He took both pairs and silently set them down by the door. He pulled me up from the bed, peeling the covers back so I could slip easily in. He moved silently moved to the other side, sliding in himself. I pulled the blankets over me, so just my head on the pillow was uncovered by the thick covers. I put my arms on top as Lincoln looked at me.

"Do you want to let your hair out?"

When I didn't answer, he pulled the hair tie out of one side, his fingers moving through the braids, gently pulling them out. He took the bobby pins out too, putting them all in a pile on the nightstand. Then, he did the other braid until my hair was cascading in waves down my back.

He looked at me. I put my hand on his sleeve, my fingers running over the coarse material. He noticed and smiled at me. Then, he sat up, even more, taking his shirt off and throwing it out on the floor.

His arms wrapped around me, and I rolled over, so we were spooning. His nose was in my hair, and my fingers running over his bare arms, wrapped so tightly around me.

He fell asleep at some point, his body heat and breathing lulling me into a state that was conscious, but not fully awake either. It was rare for Lincoln to make any sound in his sleep, but he did that night, and I listened carefully, smiling as his voice made mumbling words.

"Sky, mmmhm, want, uuummmh, duck? Where are we going to keep it?"

Then, it turned to mumble that I couldn't understand, but I was still grinning at the thought of whatever dream he must have been having.