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But then movement in my periphery catches my attention, making me turn my head towards the open ocean. The sun has just begun to peak above the horizon, turning the darkened skies into a splatter of reds, pinks and oranges and reflecting it back on the surface of the water.
At first, I’m not sure what I think I’ve seen—until I hear it. It’s a peculiar sound, almost like the gas burst in a hot air balloon. Then I see it.
It’s a humpback whale.
It breaches the waves, the air entwined with water shooting out of its spout traveling several feet up in the sky, fins jutting out of the water almost like it's waving at me, the large stomach full of barnacles as it rolls back into the water with a splash.
I inhale a surprised breath at the sight.
I’ve never seen a whale before.
And my heart tugs with a small swell of awe at witnessing such a massive mammal exist in nature. Then my eyes catch on a smaller form close to the whale and realize it’s her baby following her. It breaches the water, in quick short succession as if still trying to learn how to do so properly while the mother swims near, the sun stretching into existence and illuminating the ripples of waves their bodies create while they swim.
The sob that rips through me knocks me onto my knees, my body sinking into the grass while Byzantine quickly appears beside me, his arms encircling my shoulders, his breath warm on my neck.
I can taste the grief like a bitter chalky pill I’m trying to swallow. The nostalgia follows close behind, reminding me of the many conversations I had with River when we were young, and the hope that one day we’d see whales in real life.
How can so much beauty exist while I’m in so much pain? How can both exist simultaneously in the same exact time?
A moment so full of hope and sorrow.
Is this what it means to live? To accept the dichotomy of life and death—coming to terms that these bursts of light only exists because darkness exists too.
Through my endless tears, I continue to watch the mother and calf swim and roll, their splashes almost playful. I pray that River is somehow with me, that somehow she’shere, witness to this just as I am.
Byzantine tucks me closer to him and I let him, but I can’t stop crying. I can’t stop feeling. My knees are digging in the soft dirt, Byzantine holding me so tightly I can hardly breathe. His heart beats wildly as I turn to cling to him, my mind still not able to make sense of anything that just happened.
“I don’t want to feel like this anymore,” I whisper, my words wavering with the sob caught in my throat. This darkness that has seemingly followed me for lifetimes. And yet it’s such a familiar feeling that it scares me to imagine a life without it, like the tender embrace of a toxic lover.
Who am I without the swords piercing my heart straight through? Who am I without all these gaping wounds I call home?
“Please don’t leave Byzantine,” I rasp, the words I don’t utter out loud hanging heavy between us.
Please don’t leave me like River did.
“I’m not leaving,” he finally whispers into my hair, kissing my head softly. “I’m here. You’re not alone.”
His words crack something hardened inside of me and suddenly all I want is him burning on top of me. But we stay silent, our eyes studying each other as if we’re both seeking solace in what we’re hoping to find reflected back.
Until his lips crash into mine, toppling me over. His warm hard body pins me to the ground, hips rolling over mine and my thighs fall open, inviting him in.
His movements are desperate, touching me with urgency, pushing, pulling, squeezing as if proving to himself that I’m not just a figment of his imagination. His warm breath fans across my throat, his mouth nipping at my ear, harried hands reaching under the hoodie to palm my breasts. My fingers travel down his back, grabbing on to his ass and pulling him even closer to me.
He groans into my neck and suddenly my shorts are yanked down my legs, nearly ripping them off me, his actions becoming even more persistent than before and lust resuscitates me.
“Byzantine,” I choke out, feeling him tugging his sweatpants down his strong thighs, freeing his already hard cock. I become desperate in turn, needing to remember what it’s like to feel alive. He finds my lips again for another bruising kiss, his fingers finding me wet and so fucking needy I can’t keep the small mewl from escaping my lips.
“You scared the shit out of me, Sunny,” he says, his voice pained against my mouth, the sound so raw that I’m suddenly fighting back even more tears.
His fingers push harshly into me, making me gasp, my back arching off the wet grass.
I wrap my palm around his jutting length and give it a hard tug while I catch my breath, his charged gaze finding mine and one single tear falls down my face.
“I’m sorry,” I breathe out, lost in all the sensations surrounding us.
There's a flash of pain in Byzantine’s expression as the thick head of his cock drags against my slit. He doesn’t take his time as he pushes into me with a low groan and I moan right along with him. I feel fucking feverish. I’m desperate with need, feeling him pulse inside of me, already feeling so close. And with one powerful thrust, he bottoms out. I’m breathless, the fullness of him so deep, it overtakes me.
“I don’t want you to be sorry, little sun,” he finally says, thrusting into me fast and hard. “I need you to be mine.” His voice is deep, laced with what sounds like anger but also brimming with burning desire. He slams even deeper. “Allmine.”
