Does It Hurt?

by H.D. Carlton

“We’ll cross paths again, Sawyer. Life has a funny way of throwing people into your path when you’re meant to collide. It’s up to you to choose to make it permanent.”

Body of a Greek god? Check. Could ruin my life with just the tip? Check. Has a permanent scowl and carries himself like he hates the world? Just fuck me already.

“You’re going to ruin me, too. But unfortunately for you, that’s where I feel most at home.”

I smile. “Do you think I’d be happier if I lived in another world?” His response isn't immediate, but it stops my heart anyway. “Maybe. But I wouldn't be.”

“Move,” I mutter, elbowing him as I look behind a shelf full of… beans. Lots of beans. “Look, the bean gods blessed you,” he mutters snidely.

“There’s a place in the ocean, so deep, where not a single point of light penetrates through it. And for so long, I’ve been trapped there, unable to breathe. When I met you, you lifted me out of that darkness, and it was the first time I came up for air. You’ve become my oxygen, bella ladra, and I can no longer breathe without you.”

Love is funny that way. It persists even when you’ve done everything in your power to banish it. It demands its own voice and refuses to be a slave to anyone but its own desires. And despite the power of it, those selfish desires are what make love so weak.