She folds into him and—oh—he wants to hold her. Everything in him wants to just grab her and crush her to him, to hold her close and remind her that this is right and natural. Remind her of the fire that lives between them. But she’s crying and it only crushes him further. It breaks him clean in two and he wants to hate her—wants to push her away and run. He needs to be out of here. He needs to be gone.
“I wanted to be more to you,” he groans it, low and deep in his throat. His kisses slow and he just closes his eyes to listen to the sound of the tide of his pulse. For a second, he just stills and lets the silence grow until it consumes him. “I wanted—I just wanted to be more.” He wishes he could cry; wishes that the dam would break so that it could crash down around him. Maybe he’d drown in it. Maybe he’d—
His thoughts fracture and he feels her against his chest but he stands still, like a statue, like a cliff, and she is the storm that presses into him. He feels the way his body wants to give out in protest; he feels the way that she consumes him and he realizes in this moment that he was a fool to ever think that he could survive this. He was a fool to think that he would be strong enough to get away unscathed.
Finally, he breaks again, but this time, his body does not split open on passion. Instead, he quiets and he just holds her to his chest. His heart thunders in his throat and he feels anguish twist around him so that he can barely breathe. “It doesn’t matter.” He wraps his neck around her and he knows that it’s a goodbye because he couldn’t keep breathing if it wasn’t. “I don’t deserve beautiful things, Kensa. I never have.”
He swallow hard and there’s an apology somewhere in the regret.
“This is my fault. I should have let you walk away that day. I should have known better.”
BRIGADE
when I was a man I thought it ended when I knew love's perfect ache
but my peace has always depended on all the ashes in my wake
@[Kensa]