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He flinches again and a wave of hurt and regret settles on his features.
"I'm not trying to hurt you. I...I just have never encountered feelings like this before." He pushes a hand through his hair in a move that I know signals his frustration.
I pause, my anger settling a bit. His thoughts are similar to my own in that in all of the time I have lived, I haven't had these types of feelings for anyone else but James and Landon. I can't seem to stay away from Will. I know I should, but for some unfathomable reason I can't.
"I never felt this way about her," he admits softly. "She was the mother of what I thought was my child. But whatever I felt for her doesn't seem like anything anymore compared to what I'm feeling for you."
"I don't want to do this if you're just going to keep reeling me in and casting me out. Complicated feelings or not. Guilty feelings or not. Starting this with you has gone against everything inside of me. Don't make me regret this."
He nods, and he strokes my cheek remorsefully. The sharp, unexpected pang of lust and desire travels up my arm. His eyes are confused, bewildered almost, and for a second I understand him. I'm the unknown factor. He had decided to live his life a certain way. To never open himself up to heartbreak again. Not anywhere on his path did I exist.
Yet here we both are. Our struggle is one of diversion. Should we divert from the path of loneliness we had planned, or should we take a leap into each other's arms? I haven't made up my mind, and clearly, he hasn't either.
"I need to make something clear to you," I tell him. "I understand not having a heart to give; I promise that I have you beat in that category a million times over. But that will never excuse behavior like what you did tonight. I have spent years healing myself enough to be standing in front of you right now. You don't get a right to try and destroy all the progress I've made."
My chest is heaving with emotion when I'm finished speaking.
He takes a step to come inside, and I begin to close the door. "You need to leave," I tell him.
Suddenly, the door hits the wall with a thud and he's on me, closing me in with his arms and then his mouth. For one second I relax into relief at the stroke of his tongue, but I rip myself away, forcing my head to the side, panting. I don't want this, but my body is responding with a starved flush.
"Let me go," I snarl at him, but it comes out half-heartedly. He strokes my cheek and I find myself leaning into it.
"Forgive me," he whispers.
Standing up straight, I motion to the door. "I'll think about it," I tell him with my chin held high.
"I'll make this up to you," he says faintly, looking so dejected that my body aches to comfort him.
I watch as he walks out the door and down the sidewalk. And then I cry.
The next day he's waiting for me outside the hospital, a bouquet of gorgeous orchids clenched in his hand. My heart soars at the sight of him, and I curse at its fickleness.
"Can we talk?" he asks, and he looks so mournful standing there that I can't help but agree. We walk until we find ourselves at the shore again, the sound of the waves acting as a balm to my heart.
He pulls me into his arms, and I don't resist.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, pressing the words against my skin. "It's the truth. I want to be with you. I have to work through my emotions in a better way. Last night was a big lesson for me."
He drags his forehead to mine, forcing my eyes to meet his. "Please forgive me. Nothing like that will ever happen again, I promise."
"I want to believe you."
"Please, give me a second chance."
There's so much sadness in both of us. I wonder if it will always be this way. If it's possible for us to ever be complete enough to be good for one another. I brush my lips against his.
"I will," I whisper, knowing it's a mistake.
We hold on to each other for a long time, watching the waves, and sending out silent prayers that we can help heal one another.
The next few months can't be classified as anything but perfect. Every spare second we have we're together. We share a room, a bed, morning coffee...every move we make is synced. We somehow have managed to grow together. He wants me with him always, and I feel the same obsessive desire to never leave his side. It's a love that I never expected, but one that I want to hold onto with every ounce of my soul.
I know all too well how something perfect can disappear in an instance.
I open my eyes from a nap to find him watching me, intensely concentrating on the features of my face as if he needs to memorize them. Breathing out a sigh, he walks over to the bed and caresses my cheek, his eyes following the curve of my neck down to the rest of my body. I flush under his adoring gaze.
"Come with me somewhere?" he asks.
