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“You know, if I was honest with myself, I’m enjoying this a bit too much,” Mel whispered into the air between them, his eyes closing. “I never thought I would crave human touch as much as I do now. And here you are, soul literally bared to me and giving me what I didn’t even know I needed.”
Her heartbeat spiked as he gripped the hand still at his chest. Something twisted into an ache growing with his words.
“I can still feel your heartbeat. It’s faint, but it’s there.” He opened his eyes, trying to prove her life wasn’t extinguished.
Standing still, she felt grounded. With her panic gone, she realized her life wasn’t over yet. Her free hand went back to his chest as if searching for his heartbeat while listening for her own. Mel dropped her hand and slid his arms around her waist, settling his hands on her lower back. His fingers grazed the skin just above the back line of her dress. Leaning her head against his chest, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling herself into him.
“I can touch you.” Her voice was muffled by his shirt.
He paused, then chuckled at her. “Never thought you’d have the chance, did you?”
She pulled back, feeling renewed. “Well, this certainly isn’t a dream. I can’t imagine your brand of ego.”
“I told you I'm cuddly.” He chuckled again softly, running a hand through her hair to smooth it back down. The soft waves of would-be curls slipped through his fingers. He leaned forward and kissed the top of her head before nodding at her physical body.
“Come on, let’s get you back to the land of the living.” His hands quickly rubbed her arms before he pulled them from around his neck.
“So eager to get rid of me?” Her voice teased as if it were a joke.
“A little, yeah.” He frowned and pulled her toward her body. “I don’t want you to stay like this. It’s not right. You’ve got too much to live for. It was too late for me, but not for you. And damn it all if I let you die on me tonight. I promised I’d protect you.”
“From spirits,” she reminded him, as he dropped her hand from his. “Which you have.”
“When you got into the back seat of Dominic’s car I promised I wouldn’t letanythinghurt you. I failed, but I won’t let you completely fade away because of me. Because I wasn’t there.”
“I don’t blame you for this.” Getting close to her body, she could hear he was right. Her light heartbeat and the hint of breaths pushing from her lungs meant she was still getting oxygen. She wouldn’t die immediately, there was still time. She turned away from her body and back to him, standing only inches away. “Mel, we’ve nearly solved your case. Your murderer’s time is up. What would it matter if I take my time going back?”
“What would it...” Mel trailed off and shook his head. “It would matter to me! Shit, Anastacia, do you know how much you mean to me?”
Using her full name surprised her. From day one he’d refused to say her full name. It was always “Stacia” despite her constant corrections. She stared at him as he paced just within her reach.
“You’re the only thing, or person, I haven’t quit.” He grabbed her arms, pinning them to her sides. His voice rose in volume and panic, frustration dripping from each syllable. “I have given up on everything else,everyoneelse because they gave up on me. Except you. And I’m not giving up on you.”
“Knight and the others won’t let the case grow cold. They’ll find him. We probably already have. You don’t have to worry about being stuck here forever.” She tried to placate him. Tried to calm his worry.
“Fuck my case! Fuck my murder!” he growled in frustration, exclaiming as he shook her, “It’s you.Youmatter to me! Youlivingmatters to me.”
This was not going the way she thought it would. If she was honest with herself, he was starting to piss her off.
“And what if I choose to stay like this just a bit longer? What if I want a break from playing detective? What if I’m done seeing things I’m not supposed to?” She tore out of his grip but didn’t walk away from him.
She paused, checking her hands, now more solid than they were before. A different heaviness settled in her chest. Her life was fading and despite what she knew of the spirit realm, she didn’t know what waited for her. She didn't want to die. Not yet. But she knew one thing she did want to do, even for just a moment. Her eyes went back to his. “What if I want to be with you?”
“How would it work?” He stepped back into her space, his hands barely skimming hers. “What makes you think the bright light won’t take you instantly? Even if it doesn’t, I may disappear once the murderer’s in cuffs. Then it’s just you. Staying like this isn’t something you want.”
“Mel, I don't want to die. I want you,” she confessed with a pathetic laugh. She said it. Confusing and heartbreaking as it was, it was out. “I want you to stay because I’m so scared of you leaving. But I don’t want you stuck here either. I want you to be happy and be able to move on. So, this moment, right now— this is what I want. To just be with you for a moment longer. Can we haveright nowbefore it’s too late?”
His hands framed her face, thumbs running over her cheeks and his eyes roaming over her features. It was the first time she truly recognized fear in his eyes, the same that she felt. Every day she saw unimaginable, gruesome things but right now, the thing she was most scared of was him leaving. He opened his mouth to say something, to make another argument when something changed behind his eyes. He lost whatever fight he had.
Slowly, he lowered his face toward hers, stopping just a breath away from her lips. Still far enough for her to pull away and change her mind. Far enough for her to fall back into her body. It was a request, not a command. He was giving her control. She didn’t waste what time they had and closed the minuscule gap.
Her arms wrapped over his shoulders around his neck as his slid down to pull at her waist. Lips pressed deliberately against his as he reciprocated without hesitation. The world froze again and it was just the two of them. No outside spirits, no killers on the loose, no worries about the future afterlife or the current life to be finished. It was all about his lips on hers, her hands in his hair, and being able to touch.
A small moan escaped her lips, and he smiled into the kiss. Tongues met as her legs fell from under her; holding her tight, his arms never wavered. His lips were warm under hers, something they shouldn’t be after death.
Warmth.
A reminder she was still very much alive. He pulled back, resting his forehead on hers. Her eyes fluttered open, catching his doing the same. If she had the power to stretch any moment into eternity, it would be this one. These seconds where they were on equal ground and the line between life and death didn’t matter.
