~MARI~
When Trystan pulls away, it feels like my lungs have been ripped out of my throat. I don't understand why he does it. My heart races frantically, and won't calm down. Trystan bends forward and lowers his head like he's praying. He doesn't look up right away. I want to take him in my arms and fix this, but I know I can't. There are too many things bottled up inside of him, too many thoughts that I don't know. So, I do the only thing that I know to do.
I stand up and smooth my shirt back into place. My middle is still sore as hell, but I'd rather die than pass up the chance to have Trystan's hands on me.
"Come on, Scott," I say, grabbing a pillow off the couch. The thing is old, huge, and heavy. Trystan glances at me from the corner of his eye. I waive the pillow at him. It nearly knocks me off balance. "I'm serious, Scott. We both have shitty lives. Mine is covered in glitz so people don't bother to notice, but I'm not stupid. And I'm not letting you give in to it. Get up."
When Trystan doesn't move, I swing the pillow at him. I try to do it gently, but there is no gently with these things. It's too big. The pillow hits him in the side of the face and makes a smacking sound. Trystan actually sways sideways. He glances at me with a shocked look on his face. The corners of my lips curl up. "You know you liked it." I waggle my eyebrows at him and he laughs.
Trystan stands and plucks a pillow from the couch, but not before I have the chance to whack him again. The pillow is too heavy. It pulls me forward every time I swing. When it smacks Trystan, it sounds like I hit him with a ream of paper. He rounds on me with that boyish grin on his face, and then nearly falls over. I laugh, but Trystan already has his footing back. He taps me lightly with his pillow, like I might break.
"What the hell was that, Scott?" I tease him and bounce on the balls of my feet. I taunt him and say, "Play like you mean it."
"You like it rough?" The corner of his mouth twitches.
"No holding back. Not now. Not ever." I say the words and know that I'm not talking about a pillow fight. I'm talking about us, about what's happening between us and to us. I don't want to give up and I don't want to lose him.
I swipe my pillow at his arm. It took a mega-swing to get momentum, but I manage. When the pillow collides with Trystan, he staggers to the side before dropping his pillow. His blue eyes are crystal clear. Trystan steps toward me, pulls the pillow from my hands, and slides his palms up my cheeks and then tangles his fingers in my hair.
A rush of tingles shoots through my middle. I can't breathe. Trystan looks at me like I'm air and that he can't breathe without me. He brings our faces closer, so slowly that it feels like I'm going to die, but then our lips touch and everything changes. Butterflies fill my stomach. They swoop inside of me, making me giddy. The spots on my face where his palms touch my skin are electrified. A current shoots through me and makes me tingle.
And his lips, oh God, his lips - they press lightly at first. His mouth is so soft, his lips are so full. It's like that kiss when we were rehearsing, and then suddenly it's not. Trystan stops holding back. His desperation hits me hard. The tension in his arms flows into his hands and onto my cheeks as he tightens his grip.
The heat from his body encompasses me and I'm lost, falling through space. My eyes close and little white spots flicker behind my eyes. His hands slip over my skin and carefully move down my back and under my shirt. I gasp and press my mouth harder to his. The kiss is urgent, demanding. It's like we both know our time together is limited and everything is going to change. I can't stop and I don't want to. Heat seers under my skin as Trystan's hands slip over me. His tongue licks the seam of my lips, teasing me. My heart beats harder, and drowns out every other sound. When I open my mouth and let him, I feel my body going limp in his arms.
Trystan holds me to his chest and kisses me harder, deeper. His tongue moves in my mouth and I'm floating and falling at the same time. I don't come up for air. I'm afraid he'll stop. I'm afraid of what will happen next. I'm afraid...
Trystan barely breathes as the kiss endures. It's seeking, giving, and hoping. It's everything that I though a kiss should be, but he pulls away too soon. Trystan's face is flushed. Heat fills his cheeks and he breathes like he's run too far, too fast. His fingers brush my cheek and rest on my shoulder. "I love you, Mari." His sapphire gaze locks with mine. We hold each other. We say nothing.
The moment remains perfect, as if it's suspended in time. We cling to each other, hoping to God that there's more for us, that there's a way I can hold onto him. But, Trystan is like a snowflake. I'm afraid that if I try to close my hand around him, he'll disappear from my life. Trystan can't accept who he is, that it stems from where he came from. He won't forgive himself for this. Somehow I know it, but I can't let it go. I can't let him go. I love him with every ounce of my being, and I know that I always will.