Page 104 of Eternal

DAMIR

“Flawless” by The Neighbourhood

Present

A zra was drunk. More than tipsy at least. I could see the flush on her cheeks from the wine, the redness creeping up as she swayed slightly in my arms. Her eyes were soft, hazy with alcohol, exhaustion and maybe pain .

Her irises were light and almost too wide under the sky. They were beautiful. They were the only thing I could focus on. Her eyes.

I couldn't stop staring.

She was beautiful. In the way that a dream was beautiful, something unreachable, something you taste once and know you won’t have it all your life. It made my chest ache.

Her jaw, where the scar ran, was flushed now as she just let herself float somewhere further than the moon.

“You're beautiful,” I whispered.

She didn’t respond right away. Instead, she looked out at the water, breathing slowly and carefully.

I could feel her tension, the way her muscles were tight in the way she sat, the way she held herself.

She wanted to pull away. So, I pulled her closer , gently, making her rest against my chest more comfortably. I didn’t ask if she wanted it. I didn’t care. She was mine to understand, even if she hated me for it. Even if she was too mad to accept it.

“ Azra ,” I murmured, tilting her face up to meet mine, keeping her close enough that I could see every color in her eyes.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she looked up at me. She didn’t want to meet my eyes; I could tell. But she did anyway.

“I have a gift for you,” I said, my voice softer.

“ A gift ?” she repeated, like the word didn’t belong to her language. “What does that even mean?”

I hated how foreign that sounded to her.

Not because she didn’t understand me, but because no one had ever made her feel like she deserved something.

Something good .

No one ever took care of her. And I hated that more than the fact that no one ever took care of me.

Because she did.

In just a few months, she did more for me than anyone ever had. She made me laugh when I didn’t want to. Made me eat when I’d forgotten how. Let me into her space, her silence, and didn’t ask for anything in return.

She showed me what a home could feel like. And somewhere in all of it, she became mine .

Even when I knew I shouldn’t let her. Even when I knew it was built on lies, I let myself believe it. And I got lost in it. In her .

I smiled a little, despite everything. “It means a present. Something just... for you.”

I reached into my jacket pocket, fingertips grazing the cool fabric of the gloves I’d bought her.

Slowly, I pulled them out, letting them hang loosely in my hand.

I found them this morning, tucked in a quiet little boutique not far from where she had her morning run.

They were plain, no flowers yet, nothing special.

Just gloves. But I’d seen her earlier. A habit is a habit.

I followed at a distance, watched her stop to buy those irises she always brings home, even for a few days.

I knew where she’d go after. So I brought her coffee. Her favorite sandwich.

Then I saw the gloves.

They looked warm. Soft .

I thought maybe it was fitting. That maybe they could be something good. Something simple .

I asked the woman at the shop, an older lady, with a kind voice, if she could add something to them. A detail. Purple irises.

Maybe, if I’m lucky, she’ll understand why I got them.

It’s because I like her. A lot. Because the moment I saw her I wanted to protect her from everything. From herself. From me.

“Your hands,” I murmured, taking one of her cold fingers between mine, feeling the chill of them like ice. “They’re always so cold. You don't deserve to be cold. I want you to feel... warm. Think about me when you wear these.”

She watched me, her expression strange.

“I know it’s not much,” I said, my voice quieter, “but I want you to feel... cared for. Even when you’re angry at me.”

Her eyes flicked to them, then back to me, she didn’t take them, not at first. But when I gently placed them in her hands, she stared down at them like they were too heavy. Poisonous almost.

Her fingers were trembling when she slipped the gloves back into the inside pocket of my coat. She pressed them there like she was trying to hide them from herself. From the part of her that wanted to accept it.

Her gaze softened for a second, just a fraction, like she was trying to understand. Then, without thinking, she leaned in closer. Her lips brushed against mine, just a hair’s breadth from a kiss.

I could feel the heat of her breath against my face. Her warmth. I almost pulled her in then. Almost let myself close the distance between us. But something held me back, her hesitance, her struggle.

I could barely keep the desperation in my voice when I whispered, “Kiss me and mean it this time.”

She leaned forward, brushed her lips on mine like it hurt to breathe. Like it hurt not to.

But then she broke away, gasping softly against my mouth. “Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t give me things I’ll want to keep.”

“Azra, please,” I begged.

She pulled back, but barely. Just enough to make it worse. Just enough to leave me tasting everything I couldn’t have.

Her eyes were already wet. Her mouth trembled like she wanted to say more but knew she shouldn’t. “Damir,” she said, voice tired. “Don’t make me get attached more. I can’t. Not to you. Not like this.”

“Partner…”

I felt it in her breath, in the way she leaned in and stopped herself like kissing me would kill her.

Like not kissing me already was.

“I can’t keep wanting something I’m not allowed to keep,” she whispered.

And fuck. That broke me.

“Azra,” I said, low, like a prayer that never got answered. “You’re shaking. You’re sad. And I fucking hate it. I hate that you think you don’t deserve softness.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, like she was fighting the battle inside of herself.

I felt it. The war between needing someone to care, to feel , and wanting to push it all away before it broke her completely.

“Let me show you what it looks like. Even if I don’t know how, I’ll learn. For you, I’ll learn.”

Her breath hitched, and for a moment, I thought she might say something. But she didn’t. She leaned against me, instead.

And at that moment, all I wanted was to kiss her. To erase the pain in her eyes, to make her forget just enough to make it all feel like it was okay. Even if it wasn’t. Even if we both knew it would never last.

I pressed my forehead against hers, my hands gently holding her face. “You’re my beautiful partner, and I take care of my partners, remember?”

Her cold hands rested against my chest. And for a second, just a fleeting second, we were both safe. We were both lost. And I hated myself for wanting it to last.

“You need to understand” she whispered, so softly I almost didn’t hear it.

“I do. I really do…” And I kissed her then. Because I couldn’t stop myself. Because I didn’t want to.

But even as our lips met, I knew this, whatever it was, couldn’t last.

Her lips parted, letting out a shaky breath as if my words were a knife and I was pushing it deeper. She kissed me back then, but it wasn’t soft.

It was needy, desperate, like she couldn’t decide whether to push me away or pull me in. Her hands grabbed at the fabric of my shirt, nails digging in, and it made everything inside of me tighten.

I want her, more than anything… I want her.

“I hate how much I need you,” she muttered, so quietly I could’ve missed it.

Gosh her voice. Her voice melted on my tongue and I kissed her harder.

“I don’t care,” I whispered back, my lips trailing down her jaw to her neck, kissing her there, feeling the quick beat of her pulse against my lips, the delicate scar that makes her even more beautiful. “I don’t care, Azra. I’ll take everything you give me. All of it. Even your hate.”

Her hips buckled on me, legs parted around my waist and I kissed her again, slow and deep, the way I wanted to, as if I could swallow every part of her. Every scar, every broken piece of her that she thought was too ugly to be loved.

“I love kissing you,” I said against her skin, hands sliding down to her waist, pulling her tighter, “I always wanted to kiss you.”

She shivered against me, but not from the cold. Her hands slid up to my shoulders, pulling herself closer, the weight of her needing me felt like a drug I shouldn’t let myself taste. But I did. And now I can’t let it go.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered, the words broken, but they didn’t stop her from kissing me harder, as if the kiss could drown out the pain in her chest. “You’ll leave me, you’ll hurt me.”

“ Shh ,” I said softly, my hands cradling the back of her head, keeping her close. “I won’t. I’m not going anywhere. Even if I should, even if I’m everything you shouldn’t want. I’ll stay, Azra. I’ll stay until you push me away, until you don’t need me anymore. Even then, I’ll stay.”

Her breath hitched again, the way her chest rose and fell, the way her body seemed to sway into me, like she was trying to find something solid to hold onto. I could feel her softness, the way she still wanted me even if she hated it. Even if she hated herself for it.

“What are you doing to me…” I whispered against her lips, shaking from need, from attraction, from desire, from affection .

.. “Fuck… What are you fucking doing to me?” I kissed her again, more urgently this time, because I couldn’t stop myself.

I couldn’t let her slip through my fingers. Not now. Not like this.

“Damir…” She breathed.

“Listen, partner. I’ll be whatever you need,” I murmured between kisses, my hands tracing the shape of her jaw, feeling the scar beneath my fingers. “ Anything .”

Her lips parted, and for a brief moment, she just looked at me. She pulled back, barely. Lips swollen. Eyes glassy. Like she hated what we were doing and hated how much she needed more. “Stop doing this, stop the need. Stop it.”