Page 77 of All the Things We Buried

“That other night,” I said. “Was it a dream?”

He chuckled. “Which part?”

“Troy.”

He rolled his eyes. “His dick’s still chopped off. You’ve got nothing to worry about.”

“So he’s...?”

“Dead,” he said. “Buried in the backyard.”

My heart punched against my ribs. I swallowed the panic rising in my throat and closed my eyes, forcing myself to remember. I had convinced myself it wasn’t real. That it was just another nightmare. But now that I knew it had happened, something inside me longed. A strange hunger rose for him.

Then the piano started.

Für Elisefloated through the air like a ghost, and as I opened my eyes, he was there, seated in front of the piano, his fingers breathing life into each note. The sound was haunting, beautiful. And in that moment, I knew he cared. He just didn’t know how to show it.

I moved to him, sat beside him on the bench. Nagi hissed from his perch on top of the piano, tail twitching.

I leaned my head on Dorian’s shoulder. He paused, just briefly, and turned to me. His hand cupped my cheek, thumb tracing the edge of my chin. He brought my face close to his.

“I suck with words,” he said. “I never knew how to speak. But I can change.”

I didn’t answer. I just leaned in and kissed him.

They say one kiss can melt pain away. His kiss burned it all to ash. Years of bruises, loneliness, and quiet suffering. We were shattered in our own ways, jagged pieces that somehow made sense when pressed together. It wasn’t perfect. It didn’t have to be.

It was ours. And he was my favorite secret.

Our lips parted. He pulled me closer, both hands cradling my face. He leaned in again, resting his forehead against mine. We breathed together like we were still learning how.

“Don’t stop,” I whispered. “Play,” I said. “Play Für Elise for me.”

As he turned away, I pulled my hair back and leaned down. My fingers trailed from his chest, down his abdomen, until they hovered over his crotch. His cock was already hard, throbbing, waiting for me.

His jaw flexed. His eyes darkened.

But he kept playing.

I sank to my knees between his legs, slowly. My hands found the zipper of his pants. I tugged it down, freeing him inch by inch, savoring the heat of him in my palm. Thick. Pulsing.Mine.

I wrapped my lips around him, teasing at first, slow licks, light pressure, just before sliding him deep into my throat.

His melody wavered, notes stuttering under the force of his need. I smiled around his cock, tongue swirling to the rhythm of his song. Every twitch of his hips made me take him deeper.

Then I felt the snake.

It slithered across the bench, coiling along Dorian’s thigh, gliding up his torso. Nagi was sliding toward me, scales brushing my cheek. She curled around my neck, tightening it slowly.

I looked up at him, mouth full, eyes wide. The snake coiled tighter.

Dorian’s fingers missed a note. Music died.

I moaned around him, the vibration making him hiss between clenched teeth.

“Fuck,” he breathed, pushing his cock deeper into my throat.

The snake squeezed. My lungs burned. A tear slipped down my cheek as my vision blurred, breath thinning. I was losing control, and he was too.