Page 7

Ares

The darkness clung to the corners of the room despite the moonlight coming through the windows. I lay there, my back flush against the cool sheets, eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling. Since my talk with Dr. Sykes a few days ago, I’d had trouble sleeping. My thoughts were chaotic and never seemed to shut off. The silence around me felt oppressive, and I shifted restlessly.

If I’m not going to sleep, I might as well get some water .

Getting out of bed, I slipped down the hall and into the living room. Something outside the living room windows drew my attention. I stepped out onto the deck, breathing in the cooler night air and closing my eyes.

The moon hung low and heavy in the sky, casting a silver glow over the beach, painting the world in monochrome shades. I leaned on the railing, seeking solace in the rhythmic crash of waves on the shore, the scent of salt in the air. I scanned the beach, and that’s when I saw them -- two shadows down on the sand, moving together in an intimate dance. My cheeks warmed when I realized it was Dr. Myron and Dr. Sykes, unaware of my gaze from above.

A sharp twist of embarrassment knotted in my stomach. This wasn’t meant for my eyes -- this private moment. Backing away, I crept across the deck. The sounds of their grunts and groans reached my ears, spurring me to move faster.

With the image of their embrace seared into my memory, I retreated to the safety of the darkened interior of the house. Right before I reached the door, my foot caught on the edge of an unnoticed chair, and it scraped against the deck. There was no way they hadn’t heard me. I froze, feeling the blood drain from my face. I glanced at the beach, seeing both men staring at me.

I stood there, flustered. Shit .

They stood, wrapped towels around their waists, and headed in my direction. My heart pounded and I wondered how angry they’d be. Their presence loomed over me as they stepped onto the deck.

“Sorry,” I managed to mutter, though the word felt inadequate, hollow in the wake of my clumsy interruption. “I… I didn’t mean to -- just needed some air, and… I’m sorry.”

My cheeks flamed hotter. I’d never been so embarrassed in my life.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dr. Sykes said gently, his voice cutting through my panic. He and Dr. Myron shared a look that spoke volumes of their bond -- a silent conversation passing between them before they turned their attention back to me.

“We understand, Ares. No harm done.” Dr. Myron’s eyes were kind. He had every right to be furious with me, and instead he was trying to console me.

“Thanks,” I whispered, the word barely more than a breath. “Can I… can I talk to you about something?”

“Of course, Ares,” Dr. Sykes said. “You can tell us anything.”

I twisted my fingers together, the knuckles white. Talking about this, laying bare the fears gnawing at me, felt like peeling back the layers of my skin.

“It’s Prophet,” I started. “I mean, it’s not him, not really. It’s me. We’re getting closer, and there’s stuff we haven’t done yet… because I’m scared.”

Neither man said anything for a few minutes, almost as if they were weighing my words and trying to find the best answer they could give. Knowing them, that’s exactly what they were doing.

“Scared?” Dr. Myron prompted softly, giving me the nudge I needed to keep going.

“Ever since… since what happened, both recently and when I was younger, being intimate… I’ve never felt comfortable doing that with anyone. I can’t say I’m a virgin because of my past, but I’ve never willingly had sex with someone. I want to -- with him -- I really do, but… What if I freak out? What if I can’t trust my body not to remember… not to go back to that place?”

I felt their gazes on me, but I couldn’t look up. I stared at the wooden planks under our feet. They didn’t say anything and I wondered if I hadn’t conveyed my emotions very well. Everything in my head felt jumbled.

“Every time I think about being with him, really being with him, my heart starts racing, and I feel like I’m suffocating. It’s stupid, right? Prophet would never hurt me. But what if I panic? What if all those old wounds open up again, and I can’t --”

“Hey,” Dr. Sykes interrupted, his voice a soft command that forced my eyes to his. “It’s not stupid. Your fears are real, and they matter. You matter.”

Dr. Myron nodded in agreement, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. “This is about survival, Ares. You’ve been through hell, but you’re here, you’re fighting. That takes courage. More than most people have. And if anyone would be understanding and give you the time and space you need, it’s Prophet.”

“Courage,” I echoed. I didn’t feel courageous. Far from it.

“Prophet cares about you,” Dr. Sykes added. “He’ll understand. He’ll never push for more than you’re willing to give.”

“Will I ever be ready?” Perhaps that’s what worried me the most. How could I say I’d be with him the rest of my life if I didn’t know what sort of relationship I’d be able to give him? It wasn’t fair to him.

“Only you can answer that,” Dr. Myron said. “But don’t rush yourself. Healing takes time.”

“Time,” I murmured. No. I felt like the longer I waited, the worse it would become. Maybe this was like ripping off a bandage. “Thank you. Both for listening, and for not getting mad at me for…”

“It wasn’t intentional, Ares. Besides, we were out in the open. No one to blame but ourselves. Sometimes we like the thrill of possibly getting caught.” Dr. Sykes smiled a little. “I’m sorry we made you uncomfortable.”

“Prophet… How do I tell him?” The question came out jagged, spiked with anxiety. “How can I make him understand without pushing him away?”

“Communication,” Dr. Sykes advised, his eyes locking onto mine. “Open, honest communication. Prophet cares for you deeply. He’ll want to understand, to be there for you. But he can’t do that if you don’t let him in.”

I nodded, but the idea of talking to him about this stuff terrified me.

“Take it one step at a time,” Dr. Myron added, his hand reaching out as if to offer a lifeline. “There’s no rush. And remember, we’re here for you too. You’re not alone in this.”

“Thank you,” I managed to say. “I’ll try.”

Turning away from them, my feet carried me across the wooden planks to the door. I turned the knob and went inside, wondering if I had the courage to have a real relationship with Prophet, the kind my parents shared, and countless others at the compound. Making my way to his bedroom, I paused outside the door. He hadn’t shut it, and I could see him sprawled on the bed, one arm flung over his eyes, the sheet down around his waist.

The moonlight caressed his bare chest, and I had to admit he looked beautiful. My cheeks warmed at the thought. Could I really use that word for someone like him? My fingers twitched as I wondered what it would feel like to run my hands over him. A mixture of curiosity and fear filled me.

Swallowing hard, I took one step, then another, drawing closer to his bed.

“Prophet,” I whispered. I moved even closer, until my knees brushed the side of the bed. Watching him sleep, I couldn’t resist any longer. Reaching out, I lightly ran my fingers over his hair. My hand trembled, and part of me wanted to run away. But the other part…

* * *

Prophet

I felt her before I saw her, the slight shift in the air, the scent of her skin. Her presence filled the room.

“Prophet…” Her voice was little more than a whisper, and I heard her drawing even closer. When she reached out and brushed her fingers through my hair, I felt the way her hand shook and knew this was a huge step for her. I didn’t want to scare her away, but I couldn’t pretend to be asleep any longer.

“Come here,” I murmured, tugging gently.

She resisted for a heartbeat, then yielded, climbing into bed next to me. I pulled the sheet over her and held her close to my side.

“Are you all right?”

She was silent for a moment. I wondered if she was going to answer, but I gave her time. I didn’t want to push. “I’ve felt so broken. Useless. Like I’m not even really a woman anymore. All the progress I made went away in an instant. At the end, I wasn’t sure I’d last long enough for you to find me. He was so close to breaking me.”

“Hey, look at me.” I cupped her chin, turning her face toward mine. “You’re one of the strongest people I know. Don’t let this shake you. I’ll do whatever it takes for you to feel like yourself again.”

I saw tears mist her eyes and wondered if she’d cried any of the times we’d been apart. Had she been holding back all this time? Didn’t she know how much I loved her, and that I’d do anything for her?

“None of us are perfect, Ares. Everyone has a battle they’re facing. You’re still you. Even if it doesn’t seem like it.”

“Thanks, Prophet,” she whispered.

My heart was a heavy thud against my ribs, each beat a reminder of how much I needed her. “Ares, I love you.”

A tear slid down her cheek, and I wiped it away. She was my everything, and I thought I’d proven that to her over the past year, but maybe I hadn’t. She’d been too young, and then… I’d been an idiot and tried to wait for the perfect time. I knew better. The right time wasn’t something that came around by itself. We had to create those moments.

Her eyes flickered with a fragile hope. “Can we… maybe just kiss? See what I can… handle?”

A rush of heat surged through me, desire knotting in my gut, fierce and insistent. My body’s reaction was immediate, a carnal response I gritted my teeth against. Could I keep myself in check? For her, I had to.

“Only if you’re sure,” I managed to say, my voice rough with the effort it took to remain still, to not scare her with the intensity of my need. If things were different, I’d have pinned her to the bed, kissed her breathless, and gotten both of us naked as quick as possible. But that wasn’t what she needed from me.

Her nod was almost imperceptible, but it was enough.

Leaning in, our lips met in a tentative brush. A shiver ran through me, from my lips down to my cock, as the taste of her filled my senses. It was like finding water in a desert, precious and life-giving.

My breath caught as her fingertips traced my tattoos, mine exploring the curve of her jaw. The connection was electric, a current that sang through my veins. I’d never wanted anyone as much as I did Ares. Since the moment I’d decided she’d be mine, I hadn’t touched another woman. It had been more than a year since I’d last had sex.

My tongue traced the seam of her lips, begging entrance, and she parted for me with an eager shudder. The kiss deepened, our mouths moving in unison. Her lips were soft, yet firm, parting under mine, welcoming me. Her breath mingled with mine in a sweet exchange. I couldn’t help but let my hands wander down her back, feeling the gentle curve of her spine, pulling her closer. Our bodies pressed against each other.

Her fingers tangled in my hair, urging me on, and I gave in to the desire I’d been holding back. Our tongues met in a tangle of desire and need. It felt so right holding her like this in my arms after everything we’d been through.

Ares’ heartbeat raced against my chest as our kiss grew more urgent. Her nails dug lightly into my skin, sending pleasure coursing through me. Her scent invaded my senses, making me hunger for more of her. I could feel the heat rising between us. It was intoxicating and addictive at once.

I pulled back from the kiss. She looked up at me with eyes full of longing and need, blinking slowly as she tried to catch her breath. “This… this is okay?”

Was it okay? More than. I was worried about how she felt and if I’d pushed her too far, and yet it seemed she wasn’t quite finished yet. At the first sign she was going to dark place in her mind, I’d stop.

“Can I?” I murmured against her lips, asking for permission that I wasn’t sure I deserved.

“Please,” she breathed, and it was all the consent I needed.

My hand trembled as it slipped beneath the soft cotton of her pajamas, skin on skin igniting sparks. But as I touched her, something changed. Her body tensed, the easy rhythm of her breath hitching in her chest.

I froze, pulling back instantly. This was Ares -- my sweet Ares -- and I’d die before I caused her an ounce of fear.

“Sorry,” she whispered, a crack in her voice. My heart felt like it had just shattered. I’d moved too fast.

“Shh, no apologies needed.” I moved away, putting space between us. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

She curled toward me. I wrapped my arms around her, feeling the tremor in her small frame. She nestled into me, her head against my chest. I wondered if she could hear my heart -- feel it -- It only beat for her. When I’d told her I loved her, had she understood the depths of my feelings? They hadn’t been empty words.

“Stay with me,” she murmured, and in that moment, I knew there was nowhere else I’d rather be.