Seconds later, Aislin and Laylen come rushing into the room.
“What happened?” Aislin asks, looking around. “Where the hell did Alex go?”
Telling them is less difficult but still hard. When I’m done, Aislin runs up to her room sobbing hysterically. Laylen stays with me in the living room, but sits quietly with his arms folded.
“So that’s how it’s going to happen,” he finally asks in a quiet voice. “It doesn’t seem fair.”
“I’m not sure it really is either,” I say, wondering if it’s a selfish thing to say or not. “But it is what it is. No more changing things, not when I know that it’ll lead to something good.”
He drapes his arm around my shoulder and hugs me against him, kissing the top of my head before resting his chin on it. “Maybe we could fix it… Maybe we can do something else that would keep you guys alive.”
Shaking my head, I shut my eyes and clutch onto his shirt, telling myself to hold on and not fall apart. “There’s nothing we can do. Everything is back to the way it was supposed to be and changing it will only cause more problems and mess up things.” Even though I try to fight them, the tears start to flow and I’m not sure if I’ll ever be able to stop them.
***
In the midst of my crying, I somehow fall asleep and end up in my room. I recognize the familiarity of my bed when I start to wake up. My eyes are so puffy I think about not opening them again, but then I feel the hum of the electricity and make myself fully wake up.
Alex is lying beside me, not asleep, staring at me. “Sorry, I was just…” He looks a bit guilty.
“Watching me sleep,” I finish for him, turning on the lamp. It’s not completely nighttime yet but dark enough that I can only see the outline of him. I want to see all of him, savor the moments with him and everyone I care about.
“It’s not as creepy as it sounds,” he says, starting to laugh, but the happiness deflates quickly. He looks exhausted, dark half circles under his eyes, hair a mess, clothes wrinkled.
“No, it’s pretty creepy,” I attempt to joke, but fail miserably.
“You don’t have to do that.” He rolls onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. “You don’t have to pretend that everything’s alright when it’s not.”
“Don’t I?” I whisper. “It hurts too much not to pretend.”
He rolls to his side again and lets his finger travel down my cheekbone to my jawline, finally residing on the hollow of my neck. “Never pretend with me, Gemma. Promise me you won’t. Promise me you’ll tell me what you’re really feeling no matter how bad it is.”
I gaze up at his eyes that use to be so cold, but now give me so much comfort I can barely comprehend it. “You really want to know how I feel right now.” I ask and he nods. I wet my lips with my tongue and then lean up, knowing that what I’m doing might be wrong, but it’s what I want to do at the moment.
Without any hesitation, I press my lips to his and kiss him intensely but deliberately. I expect him to stop me and give me a big lecture about how we should stay apart, that we should let the star survive as long as we can. But he doesn’t and we both decide just to live in the moment. Live for the now. Live to live because any other way wouldn’t be right.
As he kisses me back with passion, he conceals his body over mine, his arms slipping upward and bearing his weight and my head is trapped between his arms. He’s touching all of me but it doesn’t feel like enough. I want more, but when I rush to rip of his clothes, getting caught in the heat of the moment like we’ve done so many times, he stops me by catching my hand.
“Just enjoy it, okay,” he utters softly with fear in his eyes, like he’s afraid to do so himself. When I nod, equally as terrified, he leans back down and kisses me gradually but with so much intensity, I swear we’re going to burn the house to the ground. I can barely get air into my lungs as our tongues entangle and our bodies weld together, conforming flawlessly. The kissing goes on forever, longer than I knew kissing could go on for. When he finally pulls back, he strips my clothes off me, going slowly and not tearing the fabric and I do the same to him, my chest heaving as I gasp for air, feeling things I’ve never felt before. I try to bury them, knowing I need to restrain what I’m certain is developing inside me, and toss his shirt aside. Then I gently trace my fingers along his perfect chest and impeccable stomach, feeling his muscles flex under my fingertips. He lets me study him, feel every part of him, then he lays me back down and does the same to me, his fingers drifting from my face, to my neck, my br**sts, then to my thighs, his mouth trailing after his hand and leaving a path of heat all over my skin. By the time he’s done, I’m gasping for air and my body is aching for him to be inside me.
He must sense it to, because he situates himself between my legs and covers his body back over mine. “I want to say so many things…” he looks so torn. “But I don’t think I can.”
“You don’t have to say anything at all,” I whisper, leaning up to kiss him. “I already know.”
He kisses me deeply as he thrusts inside me and my fingernails dig at the flesh on his shoulder blades as overwhelming passion, lust, want, and need consume me. For a moment I feel whole. At peace. Like I’ve done everything I’ve wanted to do. And as he rocks inside me, whispering, “Everything we’ll be alright,” part of me believes him.
Chapter 33
After having the most intense sex ever, I lie in bed beside him, face to face, staring at him, trying to brand his beautiful face into my mind so hopefully when I die, it’ll be the last thing I see.
“You know, I never stopped thinking about you,” Alex says, resting his hand on my hip. “After you left.”
“I wish I could have thought about you,” I admit. “But I didn’t really think about much of anything honestly.”
“It’s not your fault,” he says, tracing circles on my hipbone.
“I know, but I still wish I could have.”
It grows quiet between us and then he sits up in the bed and reaches for his jeans on the floor. “I want to do something,” he says and when he sits back up he has a knife in his hand. “I want to make another Blood Promise.”
“What kind of a Blood Promise?” I sit up, intrigued.
“One that will help us through this.” He touches his finger to the tip of the knife and pricks it. “One that will make the impossible possible.”