Frayed Edges

“That’s our last kiss,” he whispered against my lips. I stiffened as his words sunk in. I took an abrupt step back and stared in disbelief. Has this entire night been a game? I couldn’t help the wetness from forming, threatening to streak my face in more misery.

“That’s our last kiss,” he repeated. “Our last kiss with a stranger. Our last time wondering if the other person feels the same. When I kiss you again, it'll be our first time. A first kiss between lovers. A first kiss between two people who for once in this rotting world, choose each other. From this moment on, I’m going to be right here.” His hands swept over my chest to massage my shoulders. He eased his hands up and framed my face. At his words, my tears became uncontrollable. I had no idea if I could trust him, but something in me wanted to. Hell, my entire being thrummed with the need to believe him.

“Are you okay with that?” He asked. His lips twitched with amusement as he continued to stare at my half-sobbing self. I didn’t respond, only stared. My eyes were rounded beyond comfort, but I couldn’t quiet the screams happening all over. My body ached for his touch. My heart yelled to hurry up and kiss him, but my mind fought back just as hard with concerns. A dichotomy was happening, and I wasn’t sure which side would win. Then he smiled. Not the half-smirk from before, but a genuine, knowing smile that promised he’d wait until I was ready. He smiled at me as if he would wait for years until my doubts were caressed away. His smile told me everything I needed to know at this moment.

I sniffed and gave several shaky nods, which only pulled a deep chuckle from him. He gripped my face tighter and leaned in. His lips grazed over mine.

“Now,” he all but moaned against my heated skin. “Are you ready for our first kiss?”

4 years later

“It’s February,” Neal’s voice reached me as I turned the faucet off. I leaned against the bathroom door and stared at him. He was still in bed, but his eyes were far from sleep—a thin black sheet wrapped around his body as he stretched. My mouth watered at the flexed muscles and corded thighs slipping from under onyx satin. I raised my brow at his words.

“I’m aware,” I commented. I knew where this was going, but I waited patiently for his thoughts to fully form. I wouldn't force anything on him.

“Do you think we should do it?” He asked. I considered his words.

“Are you asking or telling?” I left the bathroom threshold finally and began opening drawers. I dressed quickly without taking my eyes off of his shadowed form.

“I’m telling,” his voice came out a whisper. He still seemed thoughtful, but I knew he was set on doing it. This one fact of his life has been an unspoken curse. The tendrils of its existence stained our relationship and refused to allow us a reprieve since it's utterance.

We walked along the edges of the street. Shadows played along the decaying buildings and shattered windows. Our footfalls echoed in the chilly afternoon. Neal breathed beside me, his body heaving with the effort of his memories. And then he stopped. His feet stalled and his entire body seemed to freeze.

“Here,” I said. It came out like a statement, but I wasn’t entirely sure.

“Here,” a broken voice confirmed.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders as a shudder shook his solid frame. I squeezed and rubbed and hoped that I was the comfort he needed in this moment. His body was rigid but he didn't push me away.

“I’d been so sure that I’d spend the rest of my life with him,” Neal breathed out. His voice was harsh and full of cracks. His words settled into the one place in my mind I allowed to feel the pain of his past. I let them sink in and swirl in their green pools. I let them simmer for a moment before swallowing the emotion down. This was about him and I wouldn't let my doubts, or jealousy betray the comfort he needed.

“It’s alright,” I said weakly. I knew he wasn’t expecting a reply, but it came out anyway.

“This is the spot. We promised to be together forever,” Neal choked out. “He changed my life. And then he left it so quickly.” He sobbed then, and somehow I knew that this was the last time. I knew, or perhaps hoped, that the heaviness of his grief would leave him. This is where he'd let the stain burn less. He'd make the decision to swallow the stings of loneliness and open himself up again—even if it's just a little.

He cried in my arms. For hours, he moaned against my skin over the loss of his first love. He let himself break and bend against the weight of his memory. When the sobs ebbed and his breathing evened, his hands still held to me with a painful grip. Neal looked at me then. Shadows that had been there from the moment we met finally seemed to grow light. The darkness around his eyes lost their shame. His hands didn’t hesitate in finding my face.

When he kissed me, I knew he was finally kissing me. He looked into my eyes with hope finally brimming atop the clouds of fear. And I kissed him back with all the promises I've kept hidden. I unleashed every facet of adoration I've shoved aside for years. I showed him my soul and I could see it reflected in his eyes. We kissed away those painful barriers and we kissed despite the ones still there. I felt it through the force of his lips that we'd shed every wall, every obstacle together. He was all mine, and I was finally his.

“Let’s go home.” Neal sniffed one final time before dragging me down the worn street.