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Another silence grew between them. Their next step was unknown. His mind turned turbulent with the new information and he stood to pace at the side of the coffee table.
She threw the pillow aside. “I was waiting for you to ask me to stay last night.”
“I almost did.” Mel clenched his eyes closed. He didn't mean to say it out loud.
“Why didn't you?”
“What would I have said? ‘Stay with me. I know there’s no way for me to kiss you, hold you…damn, let’s just throw it out there, make love to you, but just stay with me. Waste your life and your time. Because you’re so good at what you do, I may not be here next week. Let’s just take what we’ve got?’ Is that what I could have said?”
“If that’s all we have, then why not?” The hurt smothered her voice.
“Because you almost died… for me. For someone who’s already gone.” He struggled to get the words out, longing weighing down the words at the tip of his tongue. “Please, Stacia. You think if I could have you I could leave you? If there was a way I could touch you and feel you, I could push you away again?”
The candle flickered erratically again and the lights on the kitchen appliances flashed as he pulled the energy to him. His emotions were his strength and whatever he was feeling, it was siphoning more energy to him than he had felt flow over him before. Something was building in him and he was unable to push it down.
He was afraid for her. Afraid of her. Afraid to love her— even if he already did. The urge to hold her was still there, pulsing under his skin like a whole new heartbeat. The memory of her fingertips at the back of his neck and skimming to his shoulders was so vivid he felt the confines of his skin shift back into place. They shouldn’t belong together; their fates were decided and nudged down different paths splitting away from one another. He knew it. But it didn’t change the absolute fact that he belonged to her. No Gatekeeper was going to change it.
A weight settled on his shoulder. He looked down to see her solid hand touching his shoulder, encouraging him to face her. The energy still heavy around him, he looked into her eyes, uncertain, and afraid it would not last.
“How?” He checked the couch to make sure she wasn’t dying again. She wasn’t. It was her living hand holding his cheek and her touch tracing the line of his jaw. She could feel him instead of just the rush of cold air. A smirk came to her face and she shrugged.
“You pull from your emotions and the energy around you. Maybe there’s just enough of both. You want to waste this opportunity asking why?” Her fingers stilled. “Right now, I don’t want to think about my forever without you. I want to think about right now, because it could be all we have. You’re here. I’m here. That’s all that matters. Can it be enough to be with me in this moment and forget forever?”
Mel’s arms wound around her, hands settling at her back under the sweatshirt, her skin smooth under his hands. Her arms rested on his, her hands on his shoulders; leaning forward, she rose onto the balls of her feet and pressed her forehead to his. He lost the fight. He lost before it even began. His choice or not, he would eventually have to leave. They both knew it, and yet here they were. Here she was. And it all clicked. She was ready for the pain if it meant they had this.
For this, if he had to die all over again, he would. For a night. A moment.
“You’re too stubborn for your own good," he chided.
The kiss started like the one in the warehouse— soft, slow, and taking nothing for granted. Small hands slid into his hair, caressing around his fatal wound as he pulled her closer; hands sliding down to her hips. Their balance slightly thrown off, Mel pressed her back against a wall as she pushed into him. He groaned at the friction of her body against his, something only moments ago he was sure he could only ever imagine.
Both willed seconds to last for hours as kisses turned from slow, deliberate presses of lips to a harsh melding of the sensitive skin. Small, fragmented moans escaped her throat. His lips left hers to follow along her jaw and lavish at her neck, each sensitive bruise kissed softly as if he could heal them with his touch. Her hands combed through his hair, her breaths coming out in labored huffs. The small noises from her raw throat filled the silence of the apartment and fueled him to continue.
“Mel,” she breathed out, his attention instantly drawing to her lips again. She put a finger to his lips briefly, a smile playing over hers. “You’re holding me.”
“Yeah, I can see that,” he mumbled against her finger, kissed the digit, and then went back to kissing along her shoulder.
“You’re kissing me,” she added, her voice just above a whisper.
“I'm trying to,” he chuckled against her skin. Her taste…he could taste her.She tasted like nothing he had experienced before. Sweet like lemonade, with the added spice of a good bowl of gumbo. Everything about her was a new experience.
“Should we throw it out there and make it three out of three?” Her lips now at his ear broke him out of his revere as she dragged her lips along the shell of his ear.
He froze for a second before he leaned away from her. Her eyes shone brilliantly as she giggled, stepping closer into the circle of his arms around her waist. Her fingertips pressed into his biceps. She twisted her body away from the wall, backing into the hallway as she took tentative steps toward the bedroom, pulling him with her. She bit her bottom lip. What little moonlight there was cut through the curtains outlining her form and face, a guiding light through the darkness. Just like she'd become for him.
“Are you sure?” A tremor in his usually smooth voice.
“Are you?” She held his face in her hands. “If I’m pushing too much…if this isn’t what you want—”
“Believe me, it’s not that,” Mel interrupted, his arms wrapped around her waist and back in a firm embrace. “This is beyond just messing around because we miraculously can. You mean more to me than that. I want to make love to you.”
Her usually guarded expressions were laid bare at his words. The moonlight traced her features as they softened to adoration, the golden glow of her eyes throwing a shimmer over her flushed cheeks.
They both fell to the edge of the bed, her legs folding under her. His face landed in the junction of her neck where he could feel her pulse thunder under her skin. Both laughing at the fall, she pushed up on her elbows and kissed him again, silencing their laughter.
“Make love to me. Please.”
Her voice cracked, holding no hint of doubt or second-guessing. She chose him. As bad of a choice as he thought it was, he couldn’t find it in himself to argue with her. She would be his, if only for one night. He would be hers forever, even after he disappeared from the mortal realm. He would wait until he saw her again.
