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I know she feels it with the others too.
A long time ago I struggled with that, believing that true love, soul deep love, can only be felt between two people. That it isn't possible to feel that way for more than one person.
But itispossible.
I see it in Tiny's eyes as she looks at Dax with the same deep, intense, heart-pumping love that she's looking at me with now. I see it when she laughs with York until she's crying, clutching her stomach as he clutches her, their love shared through pure joy and laughter. I see it when she spends hours talking with Zayn, setting the world to rights, so comfortable in his presence, so at ease in his company, so at home in his love.
She has enough love for us all, and in turn we love her and each other.
There's no jealousy. There's no bitterness or greed.
There's just us.
Taking her hands in mine, and with our gazes locked together, we move closer and closer until our bodies are barely an inch apart. Yet it still feels like miles begging to be bridged.
My breath hitches in time with hers, a knowing look passing between us, but instead of immediately diving into a kiss, I take her hand and spin her beneath our lifted arms.
I meant what I said. I danced alone, now I want to dance with her.
“I’m so proud of you,” she whispers as I pull her closer, our lips just barely brushing against one another.
With our hips swaying, and her soft breath fluttering over my skin, she looks up at me from beneath long dark lashes, her right leg sliding out in an arc behind her as she dips low. Another smile blooms across her face, and this time the swell in my heart feels healing.
She heals me every day with her love.
"I love you, Tiny," I say. The words are so easy, so free.
This time when I say it, there’s no pain, there’s no fear, there’s just thisknowing. I won’t kid myself into believing that I won’t ever get to this point again, because I know I will. This is who I am after all, but knowing I’ve relapsed and got through it again gives me power and a sense of hope that one day loving Tiny, loving my best friends, won’t be as frightening or as painful.
"As I love you," she whispers back, lifting back up, hooking her leg over my hip and leaning into my hold until our bodies slide against each other.
At some point the music stops but we don’t; instead, we melt into each other’s embrace and continue to glide around the studio without missing a beat, dancing in time to some inner rhythm only we can hear.
The rhythm of our love.
Then, as if drawn by a magnetism beyond us, our lips meet again for a kiss so deep it feels like ages have passed since the last time we held each other in this way. The same electricity that had bound us together as kids, now binds us even more tightly. Desire takes over both of us until all rational thought disappears, leaving no place for fear or doubt.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"For what?" she replies, reaching up and brushing the hair out of my eyes.
"For knowing me.Trulyknowing me," I reply, my hands slowly travelling up her sides and as I look deep into her eyes, I see all of those beautiful memories reflected back at me from that first night we met until now. Memories that have been burning brightly inside of me ever since then.
"Thankyoufor letting me in. Thank you for loving us, for loving me back," she replies before pressing her lips against mine.
I open up to her searching tongue, stroking back, with my fingers gently grasping her jaw, holding her in place, loving her with every last breath in me.
She gasps, I moan.
We both feel it.
That connection.
The raw edges of my heart barely hold on under the onslaught of such heightened emotions. I feel bruised from them, aching, but in a way that reminds me that I’m capable of feeling and surviving, that I’m capable of loving and not collapsing under the weight of it.
We stumble back across the studio floor, barely noticing where we’re going as our clothes are discarded piece by piece. Her vest top and shorts, my t-shirt and joggers are pulled off as we kiss and fumble, laughing between gasps and moans.
My hands palm her breasts as we hit the far wall, my lips burning a path across her jaw, down her neck, my tongue tasting the hollow that sits above her collarbone.
