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The sun streams through the large window, its rays warming us, and the only thing I can see is the tops of the trees. I have no idea where I am, where his house is, and I thought I would be much more worried. Maybe I’m stupid… maybe for the first time in a long time, I’m just going to allow myself to just… be.
His fingers run lazy circles on my hip, goosebumps spreading from that caress over the rest of me, and I nestle into his side a little closer. My head rests on that soft spot at the edge of his chest, one leg draped over his, and my hand is enjoying the slow beat of his heart.
Everything right here is a contrast of the life that exists beyond this sanctuary. The madness, the chaos, the pain, the deceit, it all lives somewhere far beyond these walls. And here, we are different. Here, we can be ourselves. He can be the one that softens when his eyes land on me, the one that cleans me up with a warm, wet washcloth after he fucked me into oblivion, the one that cuddles me when I’m spent. And I… I can be the one that, after all these years, can allow herself to hope. Hope that I can be by his side, that I can support him, that I can live the life I deserve, outside the constrictions and rules of my family, outside the ownership of my arranged marriage. Here, I can hope for freedom.
“I’m not sure why your organization is called The Sanctum… but this place, this moment, this feels like a sanctuary.”
“It wasn’t intentional.” He shifts a little, sinking deeper into the pillow. “When we were kids, we found this beat up old tree house in this forest. We used to sneak up at night, or when things got bad, and hide there. It was our sanctuary… Later on, somehow, our name happened. It was always us; we always had our backs, we are each other’s sanctuary too.”
Fuck. There’s beauty in that sadness, a purpose.
“When things got bad?” I pry, hoping I can get a better insight.
“Mhm… my father was… he was a mean motherfucker. I didn’t care about how he treated me, but my mother, she went through a world of sorrow because of that son of a bitch. He was physical but not extreme, however there are other ways to abuse a person, and he mastered them all. She had no life, she wasn’t allowed, she had no money, no friends, no job, no self-esteem, and toward the end… she had no will.”
I stiffen, because all of that… it’s the journey I’m on, and it hurts me, knowing that this man watched his mother go through that, and when he finally came back into my life, he found me in such a similar situation.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t know about him. He wasn’t around when we…”
“No. I chased him away when I was about sixteen. I grew, matured… got some balls, and the slithering devil in me grew as well.”
“Has he come back since? Where is he now?”
“I’m not sure. But I think he believes I grew complacent, and I will have to get rid of him for good.”
Does he mean…? “Kill him.”
“Yes.”
I nod against him. It should bother me, this blunt confession, yet I feel nothing. I would like to believe it’s because I’m getting too used to being around him, The Sanctum, but in reality, it’s the guilt about not feeling anything that’s slowly dissipating.
“And the others?” I pry once again.
“They have their own stories… but they’re their own to tell.”
Of course… although I know a bit of Maddox’s story. A bit, and yet it’s still hard to stomach.
Maddox… fuck! The scene from last night springs to mind and I have no idea what to make of it now. No. No, I can’t think of that now…shit.
“Eventually, we will have to go out there and face the world,” I whisper, pressing my palm a little harder onto his chest, letting the beat of his heart pulse through my flesh, pushing those thoughts away.
“Eventually…”
I look up at him, his eyes closed, the sunlight making The Serpent look quite angelic. Black stubble covers his jaw, fading as it reaches his cheeks, his hair is wild around his face, and his thick black lashes somehow give him a strange innocence. He’s a beautiful man, handsome in a way that makes you feel a little small when you’re around him. But here, wrapped in my limbs, calm and serene, he looks like a completely different man—myman. And I certainly don’t want anyone else to see this side of him.
“Where are we, Vincent?” He doesn’t open his eyes, but he smiles. A glorious smile that crinkles the skin around his eyes, and fuck me with how breathtaking happiness looks on this man. And I put it there…I put it there.
“Home…”
That’s it. One word. One word that holds implications of a future I stopped envisioning long ago. A future I craved and cried for. One I gave up on when the pain became too much. And one he gave up on too…
“Your home…” I need some reinforcement for my thoughts, a confirmation that I’m not jumping the gun.
“No.” Opening his eyes, he turns his head to look down at me. “Just… home.” He holds me there, his black eyes reminiscent of the moonless sky, yet somehow filled with the glimmer of stars.
He wraps his hand around my hip, giving it a quick squeeze, before reaching for my cheek and rubbing his thumb gently on my skin.
“It can be whatever you want it to be. It can be yours too…” he adds, and I’m searching for the right words that would fit this situation.
