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Love in that sense, love in that all-consuming, life-affirming, passionate, glorious sense, had come and gone with one person only, and he’d taken it with him when he left.
These walls and the two men inside had swallowed me whole once before, so when I emerged from the belly of the beast, I staggered into the world blinking and raw. This time, though, I have come armed. This time, I’ve come with sharp edges, blades, and a warrior’s hardened heart, and I’ll cut myself free without a moment’s hesitation.
It was a bright, burning Tuesday in August when Caspien Deveraux broke my heart for the first time.
The shock that should have been his was mine. A jolt hammered my chest as his eyes locked with my own. I couldn’t make out their colour from where I sat, the sunlight pouring over his shoulder, blinding me. All at once, it was the most important thing in the world. The colour of his eyes.
His eyes were a pale, ice blue.
It was the first time I met Caspien Deveraux, and I loathed him with a passion I didn’t know I was capable of. And though I didn’t know it then, I’d soon come to love him with the very same ferocity.
There were so many sides to him. He was a kaleidoscope, one that I couldn’t look away from. I was entranced.
My entire destruction felt possible from that kiss, and I had no desire to fight it. It was what books and song lyrics told you kisses ought to be. It was the end of childhood and the beginning of something else, and I knew I would not be the same when it was over.
I was going to be nicer to him. I was going to be his friend, whether he let me or not.
Later, I’d come to understand that he knew how sincerity affected his features. It was why he so rarely showed it. Sincerity gave his face an almost fragile quality. Delicate and exquisite. His beauty was always striking, but when he was tender and gentle with it, he became almost painful to look at. Magnificent and terrible as an angel. Divinity made flesh.
I loved him. I was as certain of that as I was my own name, both universal truths.
I am Jude Alcott, and I am in love with Caspien Deveraux.
Only I could love Caspien how he deserved to be loved. And so I would. I’d love him in spite of everything he was and everything I knew he could be. No matter what he did, no matter how much he hurt me, in this I would be constant. As long as Caspien Deveraux breathed, I would love him.
I love you. I don’t want to remember a time when I didn’t. I love you. And as long as I am able to draw breath, then I will love you with every single one. I love you.
“He’s going to break your heart, you know. And still, you’ll love him. He’ll break it over and over again and you’ll continue to love him.”
“That was when it began...” I whispered, understanding everything all at once. “When you pulled me closer, when you wanted me the way I wanted you.” I looked at him, stunned. He’d never looked more cruel, more cold, more beautiful. “You’re fucking poison.”
“…is to turn it into so impenetrable a thing, such a fortress, that it will never be breached again.”
"Iwasn’t planning on it, no.” This appeared to amuse him. “Why not?” “Because I don’t enjoy having poisonous, deadly things in my living space.”
“No,” he said, looking into my eyes. “You don’t hate me. You wish you did, but you don’t.”
No, I wasn’t the predator. He was. He’d always been the one hunting me. I’d only ever tried to survive him.
If Caspien is the reason this story exists, then Nathan is the reason I am writing it.
I didn’t understand it, I’m not sure I wanted to. But there could be no other person for me, now or in the future. He was it. For better or worse, he was it. But as much as I loved him, as much as I wanted him, I was frightened of him, too. Of the power he had over me and how completely I belonged to him. For longer than I’d had him, I’d been without him: yearning and longing for him so fiercely I could barely think past it. I couldn’t remember what it felt like to have him in my arms, which scared me too. I was sure – I’d always suspected – that he’d been created and put solely on this earth
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But I was tired. I didn’t want to fight anymore. It felt like I’d been fighting him, us, for years and I was done with it.
I was Jude. He was Cas. This was us.
“I’m yours, Cas,” I told him. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. Always. Tell me you know that, tell me.” “I know, Jude,” he replied, soothingly. “I know.”
“But this is what we do, Jude. It’s what we’ve always done.” “Not anymore. It’s over. Don’t come to me again.” He smiled, sadly, and nodded once. “Finally, he learns.”
“He was my fucking dream, Gideon!” I shouted. “Him! He made himself miserable, forced himself into a life with that piece of shit for what? For what?” I tore at my hair and scrubbed a hand over my mouth. Gideon looked sadder than I’d ever seen him. “For you, Jude. For you.”
It was a dangerous and violent thing to love. And just like me, Cas was war-weary and battle-scarred. But together we’d heal. Together, we’d smooth away the cracks on our hearts so that they could do what they were made to do: love.
Jude, whose love was a lighthouse on a stormy sea. Jude, who’d saved me over and over and over again.
I’d been telling the truth when I told him he’d saved me over and over again; because if Jude could love me, Jude who was perfect, Jude who was the sun, then it meant I was worth loving.
“I’m never losing you again, Cas. You realise that, don’t you?” “You never lost me,” I said. It was true. I was always his. Just like he was always mine. “And you never will, I promise. For however long you want me, I’ll be here. I’m yours.”
