Morning slipped in unnoticed, bathing the villa's vast marble floors in a muted gold. The sea air on the open balcony doors brought the scent of salt and the faintest whisper of jasmine from the garden floor. All was still, untroubled — as if last night's madness hadn't torn through the world like a fault line.
But my body did remember.
Every one of the nerves vibrated with tension, a dull ache of hurt curled around my ribcage and held on to me. I huddled cramped at the bedside, knees folded up as high as my chest watching, as light moved along the walls. The sheets was thrown across from me, my skin still puckered from the sensation of his fingers on me — the tingle of his fingertips sliding across me as though he needed a reminder that I was still alive and breathing.
He'd slept at sunrise, his body finally drained of strength, yet even asleep, he was clinging to me, like he was afraid I wouldn't be there when he woke up. His arm around me, the weight of him heavy and guarding, his face on the curve of my neck as if he needed to be anchored to me. I'd lain rigid for hours, not daring to move, not daring to risk that if I did, he'd wake up and break down all over again.
I didn't know what terrified me more: his anger, or how that dissolved into devastation and depression.
And now, with the dawn breaking and the weight of his body still on the bed, I couldn't breathe.
I scooted painstakingly, drawing myself off the bed, making sure I was quite enough to avoid waking him up, groaning at the mattress grumbling beneath me. Caspian rolled onto his back, forehead creased, but he did not wake. Not yet. I paused, my fingers getting caught on his, and then I inched away — pounding heart, constricting chest.
The villa was deathly quiet — the guards standing guard like ghostly watchmen at all doors ready to strike any alien or intruder, their towering presence a silent menace that we were not safe. I was not safe. I moved past them, out and down onto the beach, where the sand below was chilly and soggy to walk upon.
The sea continued and continued, waves crashing onto the shore in angry beat, the waves foaming around my ankles. I wrapped my arms around myself, the wind stinging my skin, and let the waves crash over me as if it might wash it all away.
It didn't.
The fear clung to me like a second skin.
I didn't know that he was approaching, but I could tell he was present.
Caspian.
His anger engulfed me like something living, and when I moved around once more, he was already there — bare feet on the sand, his black top open, hair mussed from sleep.
His eyes flamed.
"What the fuck are you doing here?" His voice was gruff, low from sleep and something tougher, something fatal.
I swallowed hard. "I needed some air."
His jaw was set and he moved closer, the temple muscle jerking as if he were struggling not to lash out and grab me. "You should have told me you were going out."
"I didn't want to wake you."
"You thug I care about sleeping over your safety?"
The words lashed out at my skin and I curled my hands into fists to keep them from trembling.
"I cannot breathe there, Caspian, it feels like I am in a tight space with no hope of getting out," I exclaimed, the secret slipping out before I could keep my lips pressed shut once more. "I'm drowning."
I sensed him then, there behind me — the heat of him encasing me although he was wasn't touching me at that moment.
"You think I am also not drowning, you think you are alone in this?" he asked, his tone like shards of glass.
I looked away, the weight of his words against me, and when our gaze met, I was on the brink of cracking. Because now he no longer hid it from me — the desperation, the agony of loving someone you were unable to rescue. It radiated out from every crease on his face, the uncertainty clinging by the thinnest of threads.
"I can't remain locked away," I shivered. "I can't live like that."
He curved his fingers around the jaw aching with softness. "I almost lost you, and I don't know how to forget it."
"I know," I panted, my eyes flashing up to him.
"No." His thumb sketched over the cheek, his own breathing harsh. "You don't know. Because if I'd lost you, Lily, I'd not be here today."
My ribcage collapsed, and I had wished to fight him, to let him know this was not going to work, that we were not going to keep breaking this. But I could not. For I understood.
I had felt the same.
Caspian's lips crashed into mine, and the force of it threatened to send me reeling back, but he caught me, as if trying to fuse us together. Not soft and gentle — wild and savage, a madman smacking of teeth and tongues and puffed breaths.
I had my arms around his waist, fingers digging into his shoulders, sea salt mixing with the salt of our tears.
We kissed like we were battling the fear.
As if when we held each other close enough, we might hold the world off, keep it from crashing in on us.
When he finally tore away from me, he did not let me go. His forehead against my skin, his knuckles stuck in my hair, and I felt the beat of his pulse in his throat.
"You're mine," he breathed, the words not a command but a desire. "No one touches you. No one keeps you away from me."
I could only nod, unable to talk, and he kissed me again — slower this time, loving. As if he was searing me into his brain so that he would never forget me.
He finally let me go, his lips tracing the curve of my forehead as he spoke the words that killed me.
"I don't know how to be without you, Lily."
I broke as I heard him say that.
Covered in him, sobbing on his chest, and he had his arms around me as if he held the whole world from shattering.
Because maybe we were suffocating.
But if drowning was what happened, I preferred to drown within his arms.