The Beauty in Eternity

Chapter 84.

"Mason?" my eyes widen. His hair is wet and sending drops of rain down his face. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I shouldn't have sent you away," he exclaims breathlessly. "In Italy, I shouldn't have sent you away."

My eyes widen and I feel my breath catch in my throat. What the hell is going on? "Mason-"

"No! Fuck!" he scoffs, pulling his hand through his hair frustratedly. "I let you talk, now let me say what I have to."

I stay silent, partly from shock. He's frantic, a desperation in his tone. "I spent so long trying to convince myself I did the right thing sending you away, I just wanted you to be safe—I wanted you to be safe," he rambles. "But I realised I was wrong, I was so fucking wrong."

He takes a small step forward, his desperate stare set on me. "I shouldn't have sent you away, Amara. I should've fought for us. The hardest decisions are supposed to be the right ones, I thought that just because it ripped me apart and I still did it that it was the right thing to do, but it wasn't," he continues on breathlessly. "Fuck, I should've been there, I should've kept you with me—I could've kept you safe. I just couldn't see that at the time because I was blinded with the fear of losing you forever and I just wanted you to be safe—I refused to be your downfall, Amara. But I was, anyway."

The warm tears start to trickle down my cheeks as he talks; the mixture of fear, desperation, guilt in his eyes rendering me speechless. That's all I needed to hear, all this time. The closure I had been searching for, that little bit of peace that I needed for so long—this was it. He wipes a tear from my cheek, his hand lingering on my face. "I just wanted to protect you, but I know now—I know that I could've protected you a whole lot better by your side."

I lean into his touch. "I couldn't protect you from my absence, and I should have known," he exhales breathlessly—his eyes soft yet wild, set on my own. "I should never have sent you away."

I place my hand on top of his on my cheek, his lips parting slightly as he takes in a breath. I focus on his stare, his eyes—for the first time since he returned they are exactly the same. They aren't as cold, like when I had first met him. The rays of light that circled the eclipse of his soul are visible again, the cinnamon rays and golden speckles daring me to look away. I don't know what it was. His words, the desperation in his demeanour, the justice in his eyes—or simply the late night moment in the rain; but I felt that I had no other choice. I lean in slightly, his familiar scent filling my senses and clouding any ounce of power I had left over my own mind.
I bring my hand to the back of his neck and crash my lips down on his. It's impulsive, it's reckless, it's stupid. But it's not that simple. He instantly wraps his arm around my waist as his lips move in sync with mine. His lips taste of whisky and mint. A fire ignites in my veins, spreading throughout my whole body—a fire that I haven't felt in a very long time. One that sends a breath of relief into my lungs. His kiss was more comforting than words could ever fathom, and in this moment the world falls away from under my feet. His hand caresses my face as the other runs slowly down my back. This is both my salvation, and my torment. I feel him smile against my lips, lifting me higher than I've ever been. It's indescribable, the moment. The feeling. The relief. The simplicity.

A sudden wave of guilt crashes over me, punching me straight in the gut. I place my hand on his chest and slowly pull away. I know that we can't. This is wrong. How can it feel so right but be so wrong? The smile fades from his face as we make eye contact again, and he takes a small step back. I release my hand from his chest, his arm falling from my waist.

This isn't fair. My heart still breaks for Elijah, my emotions are scattered and I got caught up in the moment. I don't know what I feel, I can't even think straight. I need to be alone.