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I don’t know why, whether it was fated or just because I was the only one who approached him that day wanting to offer a life raft when I saw him drowning, but it’s clear I’m the thing he practiced holding on to once he lost her. I was the thing he monitored and controlled and refused to let slip through his fingers.
No amount of resistance ever would have worked. He would have torched all the lives around us and still kept chasing me because hehadto. He couldn’t stop. He would get himself arrested, blow up his own future and anyone else’s who got in his way. He’d ruin his father’s life, burn every bridge with every friend he ever had, and he would have just kept coming.
I guess it’s fortunate I got hung up on him, too.
It does make me wonder, though…
Do I like being chased because that’s who I am, or because I’ve spent my formative years running from him?
I guess it doesn’t matter. We’re together now, and if I’m honest, I know we’ll be together forever. He wouldn’t have it any other way, and whether my brain is wired to accept that naturally or because Landon forced it to with his years of relentless pursuit, I wouldn’t, either.
Maybe he has always been mine and I’ve always been his, and it doesn’t matter why.
And maybe itisa little twisted, but I’ve always been protective of Landon, ever since that day in middle school. Even if I was his target, the notion of things having gone differently and himnotgetting me… I don’t just feel overwhelmed on my own behalf by the knowledge that I never would have known peace in my life as long as he was drawing breath. I also feel sad for him at the idea that he wouldn’t have gotten the one thing he wanted more than anything.
I’m grateful it was me.
Sighing softly, I hug him again, then I place a soft kiss on the corner of his mouth. “I love you, Landon.”
His perfect lips tug up and his arms tighten around me, even now, not able to get me close enough. “I love you, too.”
It’s not the first time we’ve said it, but it’s the first time we’ve said it with all our clothes on. It usually slips out in bed after he’s obliterated all my senses and I’m desperate to get as close to him as possible.
It wasn’t an event the first time we said it in bed, either, though. We were both very much aware of how we felt.
I think we’ve always loved each other, even when we hated each other.
And I know we always will.
