Chapter 93 (2/2)

I barely have any thoughts running through my mind.

I like the silence inside my head that she seems to bring.

“We can’t,” she says, in a voice that’s barely audible.

Her eyes are still shut and my hand is on her cheek without me even knowing that I put it there. My thumb traces the outline of her pouty mouth, and I can feel the quickening of her pulse where my palm rests on her neck.

“Maybe we can,” I whisper.

In this moment, all I know in the world is that her hands are gripping the fabric of my sweatshirt, and despite the doubt in her words, she’s pulling me closer.

“You don’t know how bad I am for you.” The words rush out of her mouth and her eyes peer open just a fraction . . . and my heart swells.

There’s pain there, a deep pain shredded through the dark green and the flakes of brown. Her pain is visible to me for the first time, and I can feel the weight of it in her hooded gaze. Something shifts and locks into place inside of me and I don’t have the words to explain it. I want to heal her. I want her to know that everything will be okay.

I want her to know that pain is only permanent if we allow it to be.

I don’t know the origin of hers, but I’m certain that I would do anything to take it away from her. My shoulders can bear the weight of her pain. They are strong, built for supporting, and I need to her know that.

I feel fiercely protective of her now, as if she’s been mine to guard for my entire existence.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” Nora warns, and I quiet her with my thumb against her lips. She parts them under my touch and exhales a quiet sigh.

“I don’t care,” I say, and mean it.