Snow is falling in thick flakes now, gradually creating a white carpet on the highway.
I look ahead and all I see is a thick layer of grey, the backlights of the car in front of us disappearing like a ghost in the night. I can't see shit anymore.
“Tom, we should stop and wait this out.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Tom stop, it's too dangerous to keep going!”
I roll my eyes, waving him off with a flick of my hand. Yeah, not gonna happen.
He hits my hand away with a hard slap. “I want you to stop right now!”
That has me fucking raging. I exhale a slow breath through my nose, feeling myself boiling over despite my best efforts to keep it together.
I slam my fist against the dashboard. “OR WHAT?! YOU’RE GOING TO PULL THE DAMN STEERING WHEEL AGAIN, HUH!? FINE. LET’S DO EXACTLY THAT AND SEE IF WE SURVIVE OR ONE OF US DIES!”
His hand flies to his mouth as he turns away, shoulders tightening while one tear slips after another.
Shit.
“Sorry,” I mumble. Even apologizing, I sound like a dick.
He's right. This is way too dangerous. I can’t even tell where the highway is anymore. I turn the wheel and ease off the gas completely. It’s almost impossible to feel the difference between asphalt and the uneven grass hidden beneath the thick snow.
I sigh as the car rolls to a stop. I release the gas, then the steering wheel. The rage inside me begins to ebb away.
Yosh is staring at me with wide, bloodshot eyes that are full of panic. So much panic.
This is all my fault. He must be so exhausted. I fucking hate myself.
“I’m sorry for putting you through this. You don’t deserve any of my anger and chaos.”
He lets out a short, bitter laugh, and then the tears come again. He buries his face in his hands, trying to smother sobs that are too deep now, too raw to hide.
Never in my life has anything hit me in the gut this hard.
For fuck’s sake, what am I supposed to do? I don’t want to make it worse, but sitting here like a useless bag of bones isn’t helping either.
A few seconds pass before he looks up and meets my eyes.
“I… I was going to say the same thing.I’mthemessyou don't deserve and didn't ask for..”
No. I don’t want to hear that. He’s the only quiet I know, and I want it back. The long nights we had, in his garden, on the beach towels, kissing and pointing at the stars. And not just the moments that felt too perfect to be real. Whatever his story is, I’ll take it. I’m not afraid of the past. I’m afraid of him not being with me.
I don’t even realize I’ve moved until my palm is on his cheek, my thumb brushing his tears away.
“No, my love. No. You’re my everything.”
His lashes flutter open as he lifts his chin from my hand. Eyes are pearling with pain and a shimmer of relief. The moment his hand finds my waist, I want it to stay there forever.
We drift closer until our noses brush, his breath warm against my parted lips. We hover there, just short of contact.
I hesitate, pulling back a fraction, then closing the distance again. My hand slides to his jaw, steadying him as his lips part. The first touch is soft, tinged with tears. I catch them as I deepen the kiss, tasting the salt on his skin.
Heat builds where our mouths meet, devouring faster, hungrier, until it’s one of those desperate, messy kisses where every second feels charged with the need to give and reassure. He’s my world, and I need him to know that.
He drags me against him and it's like our souls are trying to merge through the thinnest membrane between us.
