“You’re wet,” I tell her, knowing it’s too much to be just from her own desire. “He was in you?” “Before he left,” she says, arching back into me with a hitched breath. “He filled me up, told me to wait for you.” With an exhale, I sink in, engulfed like a warm hug, understanding that my brother knew what I needed before I did. That I was too tired to fight anymore. To fight her. To lash out with the darkness I feel inside. After the blood, stress, and fear, I needed this. A tether.
