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Twenty Five
Ana
Thoughts turn over in my head as I decide what I should tell Ax about my past.
“What happened?” he asks, his tone light. I can’t help but give him a small but grateful smile. I am sure tenderness does not come naturally to him, but with me it seems to.
I take a breath and try to collect my thoughts.
“I was only maybe four or five when The Split happened. I don’t remember a ton about it, to be honest, just the shock of going from a normal home and life and then not. My parents died not long after, I don’t remember a lot about them. After that it was just me and Josh.”
I feel him shift and look down at me.
“Yes, that’s why I call myself Josh. He was my brother.”
“Where is he?” Ax asks as he runs his hand over my head. I shiver slightly at the touch.
“He…died. About eight years ago now.” Long suppressed heartache builds and overflows inside me as tears burst from my eyes.
“He died saving me and it’s all my fault.”
I lean into his chest sobbing and feel his hesitation for the briefest second before he wraps his arms tighter around me. I don’t know how long we sit there, me bawling, and him whispering sweet nothings in languages I don’t speak.
When my heart has had enough, I finally raise my head and look around for something to wipe my face with. Immediately sensing what I needed— how does he do that anyway? Ax gets up gently and brings me back a cloth.
“Thanks,” I sniffle as I wipe my face, “Ugh!”
Sitting on the edge of his pallet he watches me.
“Can we not talk about stuff anymore?” I ask lightly and he smirks.
“You were the one who wanted to talk,” he points out as he creeps back up beside me in the bed. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I bring him to me.
“Make me forget, Ax.”
And he does. Again, and again, and again.
* * *
The next morning, I wake up to soft snores beneath me. Peeling my face from his chest I look up and sure enough Ax is still asleep. He looks so different like this, so calm. Even when he seems happy, there is always an undercurrent of something else in his expressions. Something feral. Right now, he looks carefree.
Only a few seconds after I begin staring at him, his eyes shoot up startling me. For a moment, a flash of confusion is there until it settles and the smile behind his eyes appears.
“Good morning sunshine,” I say lightly, and he grunts and hugs me tighter. Not a morning person perhaps. I plant my head back onto his chest, happy to exist for the moment.
“Thank you for last night,” I say quietly. I feel his hand move, coming up to lift my chin so I’m staring at him again. He looks into my eyes with intensity and I see a thousand words swimming behind them, but he says nothing. And he doesn’t have to. It’s not a little terrifying how hard and fast I am falling for him. I feel something twitch against my leg and despite my own soreness, I grin at him.
Axle chuckles before groaning and sitting up.
“None of that, little treasure,” he says, “delivery will be coming soon.”
I pout and he grips my chin tightly giving me a fierce kiss before standing. He stands and stretches while I marvel in his masculine nakedness. The light is never great here, except for maybe a few hours at midday when the sun is right overhead. Right now, though, I am getting a clearer view than I have of him so far.
His body is long and lean and muscular, but not overly so. Among the tattoos covering him I see silvery scars that weren’t as visible in the dim light of the evening. I remember back to him speaking about the flames when I first arrived, how much he had seemed to like to cut himself.
“You never told me what the flames were about?” I comment absently, reaching out to trace one of the scars on his thigh. His hand snakes down and grips mine faster than I can react. I look up into his face which is marred with confusion.
“I-I…” he stops and sits on the edge of the bed before turning to me. “Wow.”
