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“Waffles.” He says it so grumpily, I have to stifle a laugh with my fist. “Why do you sound pissed? Are they not good?” I ask, still smiling like an idiot.
“I love you,” I tell him, instead of what I want to say. I’m not fine, Way. I’m not fucking fine, and neither are you, and this, right now, saying goodbye to you, knowing just how not fine you are, but not being able to see you, kiss you, touch you, and breathe you in… It’s straight up agony.
It’s been ten days since we arrived in LA. Ten days, and while it hasn’t always been easy, it hasn’t been hard. Not until today. Because I had my first panic attack in weeks last night, and it’s the first one I had in over a year that I didn’t have Will with me to talk me the fuck down.
they can't be apart!
Now, I think. Now I’m happy. Not just happy, but relieved. Relieved I never gave up, never gave in, just so I could get to this moment. Right. Fucking. Here. My eyes are burning, and I’m sure they’re bloodshot to all hell. I can’t smile, can’t swallow. I don’t so much as blink or breathe, too fucking terrified he might disappear if I do anything but stare. He came. Head empty of everything but that. He came, he came, he came.
you have your boy back ♡
“What are you doing?” I ask him. Waylon’s throat bobs with a swallow. “I’m taking care of you.” The words wrench out of him slow and deep. The power in such a simple sentence would send me to my knees if I wasn’t already on my ass.
But I don’t care, because he’s touching me, stroking the paper-thin skin under my eyes and watching me with such a soft look of adoration, I don’t know how my heart’s still in my chest, and not at his feet.
“God, I could eat you,” I say into a groan as I drop my face to his shoulder. I open my mouth, nibbling at his flesh. He tastes like sweat and rain water, dirty but mine.
We grind up against each other one last time for good measure, and then he’s pulling away, walking backward as he starts undoing his belt. I rub a thumb over my bottom lip, watching him, not taking my eyes off his body as he slowly strips down to nothing.
It’s insane. Loving him this easily… Like every piece of me was made for every piece of him.
When he’s here, in reaching distance, it doesn’t feel so pathetic to want him, need him, breathe for him.
Hands come around my waist, giving me a little shove forward. Not expecting it, I throw my arms out, slamming my palms against the mirror. “Good boy.” Fucking. Christ.
“God, I’ve missed this ass. Maybe even more than who it belongs to.”
Will's got jokes lol
In the mirror, I watch as his eyes squeeze shut, his jaw muscles ticking. Like my pleas physically hurt him. What… But I never get to finish that thought. The next thing I know, those deep blue eyes are snapping open, blazing into mine just as he reaches up, grips my shoulder, and fucks into me with one powerful thrust.
This time, I know the sounds coming out of me are anything but human. He wins, he wins, he wins all the things, I think stupidly, eyes rolling back into my head.
That fucker. That beautiful fucking fucker.
Unhealthy, my ass. This love is just straight up primal. Our need for each other ingrained in us as deeply as our need for air. Inescapable. Losing him would literally kill me, and I don’t care what anyone has to say about that.
My grip on his face loosens just as he chokes out, “I-I missed you.” My shoulders drop. Chest collapses. Heart splits wide open. This guy. This fucking guy.
“I missed you so much,” he says into my neck, his voice thick and muffled as strong arms come around me. Water continues to cascade down on us, still hot somehow, though we’ve long since gotten used to it. Eyes burning, throat tight, I nod against his head. “I know, baby. I know.” He shudders and I squeeze my eyes shut.
Because that’s why I have him, I remind myself. To always have my back. To always catch me when I fall. Just as I’ll have his. Just as I’ll catch him. And if we fall together, then so be it.
Hear me as I vow, “One day, I’m going to get it through your thick, stubborn skull that you matter.” He stills. “Not just to me, but especially to me.” I swallow tightly. “That you don’t just…” —I wet my lips, searching his bright eyes— “disappear when no one’s looking.”
damn. if this doesn't speak to my trauma not sure what does :/
“I might love you harder when you’re at your worst, but that’s only because you need it harder then. But my love for you when you’re at your best?” I release a breath, smiling. “It’s unmatched. It consumes me.”
“One day, I’m going to get it through your thick, stubborn skull that I love you even more when I’m happy.”
“That for as much as I need you when shit’s all dark and fucked up in my head, I love you just as much, if not more so, when I’m clear-headed. When I feel strong and capable, and not strangled by the fear that I’m going to lose you, or by the voices that try to convince me you deserve better.” “Way…” He inhales deeply, bringing us impossibly closer. “My love for you when I’m sad and scared is very selfish. Even a little ugly. But when I’m happy, it’s pure. Easy and simple as breathing.”
Fuck, my boyfriend’s hot. “Hey there, Cupcake,” he says easily, his voice deep in that naturally smoky timber of his.
Much to my surprise, Shawn actually meets her offered hand. It’s just a quick squeeze of her fingers, but it’s something. I can’t see her face, but I can picture the huge, face-splitting grin as clear as if it were right in front of me.
There’s my Grumpy Bear, I think, smiling against his pouty lips.
When I lower him to his feet, I pull my head back just enough to brush the tip of my nose over his. “Hi.” “Hi back,” he says, voice slightly choked.
“We grow together,” he said firmly. “Together or not at all. That’s the only way this works.”
He hums against my lips. “Missed you.” My fingers stroke over his dimples. “Missed you more.” “Not possible.”
