Page 107 of Hamartia

He sits back a little, tilting his head. “Have I ever given you a reason to think that you are temporary? A stopping gap?”

I shake my head and look out through the window. “Not exactly, but neither do you tell me it’s permanent either.” I look back into his eyes. “You tell me a lot of reasons why it can’t work and won’t work and so I don’t know. Maybe this all started as one thing, for both of us. But now? Now I don’t know where I stand or what this is toyou.”I smooth my thumbs over his hips, then squeeze a little. Encouraging.

He blinks at this, slowly, as he does. Carefully considering. Deliberate. Jae smooths his hand over my hair again, fingers curling into the lengths at my nape.

“I told you: you’re important to me, Raphael. You make me happy.” He holds my eye as his hands come to settle on both cheeks. “Thisis important to me.”

The words are warm, like the sun on my face. They’re not exactly what I want to hear, not quite what I hoped he’d say, but I’ll take them. I nuzzle my face under his jaw, inhaling deeply. That scent I can never get enough of. Cinnamon and spiced apples and something uniquely him. I trail soft kisses up his throat, over his chin to his mouth.

“You’re important to me too,” I whisper against his lips. “I feel…like…”

My cheeks heat with the intensity of feeling pushing at me from the inside. Need and want and something more than both of those.

“I feel like when I’m with you it’s like being lost somewhere. Somewhere new, somewhere that’s beautiful and different and smells great.” I sniff under his jaw again and he laughs, ticklish. “And I really fucking like it here, Jae.”

I lift my head up to look at him. His eyes are glittering and wide and I think for a second he’s going to cry but he just…smiles. It’s warm and bright and so beautiful that I have to blink my eyes so not to be blinded by it. He buries his face in my neck, clinging to me.

“I really like it here too, Raphael,” he whispers.

I’m not sure how long we sit there, him in my lap almost purring against my neck, as my hands trace up and down the warm skin of his back. Contentment buzzes through my whole body, the weight of him steady and so right. When I lift my head, I notice the clock in the kitchen.

“Hey, it’s Christmas.” I press it as a kiss to his shoulder. “Do you wanna open your gifts? You normally do them before sleeping right?”

“Normally, yes.”

“So, do you want to?”

He shakes his head. “I want to go to bed with you. Let’s do it in the morning. Like Americans.” He moves to get off me and we both stand. He gestures vaguely at the picnic. “We should clear that up…”

“I’ll do it. You go ahead. I’ll be right behind you.”

He stifles a yawn and then nods. “Thank you. Please be quick.”

I wrap up some of the leftovers and toss the rest. Then settle the bowls, plates, and glasses in the dishwasher and fold up the throw blanket we’d been sitting on. I’m pushing the sofa cushions back into place when my cell vibrates on the low coffee table. I stiffen when I see Camille’s name. Before I can think about it I’m lifting the phone and sitting back on the sofa to hit ‘accept’.

I can’t fucking run from this anymore.

I hear her make a small gasp of surprise. “Raphael?”

“Yeah. I’m here.”

She lets out a sigh. Relief? Frustration? Exasperation? I’m not sure which. “I thought I’d never hear from you again. Where on earth are you?”

“On the other side of the world.”

“You hate me that much?”

I sigh. It feels like heartache. “I don’t hate you, Cam.”

She is quiet for a bit. Then: “What did he tell you?”

“Nothing. He hit me.”

“He told me. Are you okay?”

“I can take a punch, Camille. Question is, why did he hit me?”

“Perhaps because you are fucking someone else behind my back.”