Page 125 of Breathe Like Hell

“Create asteria, protect all of Heaven, do other regular jobs like people have on Earth.”

“Like accounting?”

“No.” The corner of his lip curled up in slight amusement. “There’s no accounting in Heaven. They grow and prepare food, take care of the environment, keep things clean. Things of that nature.”

“What’s asteria?”

“Starfire. It’s the only type of fire that burns in Heaven, and it can only be created by Aiglens. It’s used for almost everything.”

“No matches or lighters?”

“No matches or lighters.”

I contemplated this. The more he spoke, the more I wished I was able to see Heaven myself. Micah explained it wasn’t idyllic, but that didn’t lessen my curiosity. It was a whole new world that I’d never really known existed. I wanted to see his skin glowing, his ultraneon.

“And what do Thrausians do?”

Micah’s jaw flexed and he hung his head. “Wait to die. Or fall to Earth and die there.”

The words stole my breath, and I wanted to cry for all the anguish I knew Mason felt over his aspect. Hearing confirmation from someone else’s mouth about how Thrausians were viewed in Heaven hurt just as bad as hearing it from Mason’s mouth. More, maybe.

“What did he say to you yesterday?” Clouds collided over the ocean, the teal water always moving, always swelling and churning and rushing. Never still or stable. “Mason,” I added to clarify. “Is whatever he said the thing that made you upset at the diner?”

“I was already pissed off,” Micah snapped.

“But what did he say?”

“It doesn’t matter! Some bullshit! Like he always says!” Micah shouted, tossing his arms up, sparking anger in my own blood.

“God fucking forbid I ever ask you a single question about your emotions,” I grumbled.

“Don’t start,” he warned, his tone getting lower.

“I’ll start whatever I want to start.” I stared at him, fingers trembling. Fighting with him wasn’t going to do anything productive, but I just couldn’t stop. He was making me feel insane. “Do you know how fucking badly I just want things to be normal with you, Micah? You act like you hate me half the time, and I’m trying to be patient, but you’re not giving me much to go on.”

“I want things to be normal, too! But they can’t.” His eyes pierced mine, stabbing right through me in all their blue-gray intensity, hooking deep into my soul. Razor wire, embedded in me too deep to remove. “I can’t be normal,” he gritted out.

“Do you think I’m normal? No. That’s not what I meant.”

He exhaled harshly, looking away from me.

“I want you to tie me up and fuck me and take care of me afterwards. Watch all my movies you probably don’t care about and shower with me and sleep with me and talk to me about your life.” I took a deep breath. Micah was already doing most of this, but it was different. It wasn’t right. The lack of honesty I’d been living with, but combined with other things, it was hard to accept. “I just want us. I want you. I don’t care if⁠—”

“Dakota,” he said loudly, cutting me off. “I can’t do that. I know what you meant. I can’t do our normal anymore.”

I paused, my mouth open, all my words dying on my tongue. My eyes stung.

“Why not? You don’t want me anymore?”

“That’s not it. I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my whole fucking life. I just…” He trailed off, the rustle of tree branches claiming the forgotten end of his sentence.

“You just what?”

“It doesn’t matter. I don’t know.”

I pressed my lips together, blinking back the tears that always threatened to spill down my cheeks. My fingers curled into my palms, nails pressing into the skin.

Mason and I weren’t sustainable because of his violence, but Micah and I were unsustainable for a different reason. His distance. I couldn’t be in a relationship like this forever.