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I feel him watching me, and I give myself one last moment to stew in my misery and second-guess everything, before slipping the ring from the chain and turning on my heel.
“Here,” I say, approaching where he lays on his back.
He frowns, his gaze drifting down to what rests in the center of my palm.
“But it’s yours,” he murmurs.
“I know. But why don’t you hold onto it for a bit?” I shrug. “I don’t really need a shield these days, so…you use it.” My heart races, and a sweat breaks across my neck. And just when I think he’s going to laugh or scoff at my lameness and roll away…
He reaches out.
With clumsy fingers, he swipes it up, sliding it onto the middle finger of his left hand.
His throat dips with a swallow, and he murmurs, “Thanks.”
Nodding, I turn away, and make for the door.
“Where are you going?”
I pause, my hand clenched around the knob. With my other hand, I flip the light, bathing the room in darkness. “Nowhere,” I say, closing the door, sealing the rest of the world out.
Why I thought I could get away from…this…I have no idea.
Why I even wanted to…
Well that’s a lot more complicated.
And most fucked up of all, when I turn around and find the lump that is Mason buried under my covers, hidden mostly in shadows, waiting for me to join him…
I feel relieved.
The bed dips, creaking again, when I climb in next to him.
Tugging the blanket up to my neck, I roll onto my side, facing the door, bracing for the inevitable.
Mason’s breathing is all I hear, slow and heavy coming from behind me. And for a moment, hope that he’s already fallen asleep rears its ugly head.
But then there’s movement, and a familiar arm curling around me.
My eyes fall shut.
A face buries into my nape, knees curling up against my back.
He shudders, his balled up body pressing into me, like if he shrinks himself down enough and gets close enough, he could actually disappear inside all this hollow space I have.
I bite at the pillow, unable to do anything but…allow him inside, to invade every dark and cold, dusty nook and cranny I have.
“Jeremy?” he whispers hotly against my skin.
Just like clockwork…
“Yeah?”
His breath hitches, and I wonder if maybe…maybe he too wishes he had more restraint. Wonder if maybe he hates this as much as I do…hates himself…hates what we’ve become in this frozen world, where our only comfort is found in the heat of each other’s bodies late, late at night.
We’re clothed, and yet I never feel so naked as I do as when I’m in Mason’s arms.
“Do you still feel her?”
