Page 219 of These Tears

‘You should have killed me.’

I clench my teeth.

‘I was desperate. I wasn’t thinking straight. I’m sorry.’

I reach inside myself and grab onto the shameful heat that I’ve always suppressed around him. Every time he touched me. Every time he almost touched me. Every time he looked at me.

And I find my own demons baring their teeth.

He had taken me. Frightened me. Made this cabin a cage, made obedience into care, made my body learn the shape of his rules. I could look at him and see only that. The captor. The danger. The frost-born monster.

But I have also seen his hands turn gentle. Seen him feed me. Seen the intelligence behind both his words and silence.

And the restraint. One that cost him dearly as he fought not to become what the world had already set into stone. I’ve seen him carry blankets for a child, feed the animals, fight wolves.

The choice bleeds into light without me having to make it. It doesn’t excuse him for anything. But it makes me stop mistaking trauma for bad simply because fear makes the simpler story easier to hold.

‘Sharing violence,’ I murmur then, careful with every word as my nose grazes the side of his, ‘with someone who asks for it – wants it – isn’t wrong either.’

His breath stutters.

Stills.

‘But it has to be chosen, Elias. Not taken.’

His chest doesn’t rise for a beat as his eyes search mine, desperate for a lie, a trap, a reason to pull away.

Air begins coursing through him after a moment.

I draw back just enough to kiss one closed eyelid. Gently.

‘Show me what frightens you, but not like today – not without a way back,’ I breathe against his mouth. ‘Teach me violence that doesn’t hurt,’ I offer, ‘and I’ll teach you gentleness that isn’t weakness.’

A soft kiss – his lips part for me.

‘I’ll take on your demons.’ My words echo a little too loud – like a prayer and a curse in one. ‘But you’ll have to take on mine, too.’

His chest rises faster now. Breath catching, stuttering. I see the spark in his eyes. The ice cracking. Then again. And again. The storm behind them no longer hiding from me, but reaching for me.

‘I didn’t hurt you?’ he asks like a boy asking if monsters are real and hoping for the answer that won’t stain him.

My brows lift. ‘You scared me,’ I correct. The muscle in his jaw ripples.

But then an ache spreads over my breastbone. I blink through the burn behind my eyes, and I ask the question that’s been clawing at the back of my ribs every time I watched him run away. ‘Did I hurt you?’

His stare deepens. Lingers. He’s looking through me, searching every crack in him I’ve exposed.

The silence spreads.

Whatever sits between us has sunk deeper than fear and is nowhere near anything simple. It’s broken and twisted but layered with things I’ve never felt before.

He doesn’t answer me with words.

The sound of the chain dragging across the floor splits the quiet. His hand rises cautiously, and his fingertips touch my mouth.

I kiss them. Once. Softly.

Then his palm spreads against my cheek.