Page 26 of The Air He Breathes (Elements 1)

“I don’t know!” I said, my words somersaulting off my tongue. I was truly unsure why I would have wanted to be in a conversation with someone who was so hot and cold on a daily basis. One day he was opening up about his demons, and the next he was shouting at me for saying hello. I can’t win. “Stupid me for thinking we could’ve been friends.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Why would I want to be your friend?”

A shiver ran across my body. I wasn’t sure if it was due to the light breeze or due to Tristan intruding on my personal space.

“I don’t know. Because you seem lonely and I’m lonely. And I thought—”

“You didn’t think.”

“Why are you so mean?”

“Why are you always watching me?”

My lips parted to speak, but no reply came to mind. We stared at each other, so close that our bodies were almost linked, so close that our lips were almost touching.

“Everyone in this town is afraid of me. Do I scare you, Elizabeth?” he whispered, his breaths brushing against my lips.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I see you.”

The coldness in his stare softened for a split second, almost as if he was confused by those four words. But I did see him. I saw past the hate in his stare and noticed the hurt in his frown. I saw the broken parts that somehow matched my own.

Without thought, Tristan pulled me to his body, his lips pressing hard against mine. The confusion swimming around in my head began to fade as his tongue slipped between my lips and I kissed him back. I kissed him back, and maybe even kissed him more than he kissed me. God, I missed that. I missed kissing. The feeling of falling into someone who was holding you up from hitting rock bottom. The feeling of warmth washing against your skin as another person supplied you with your next few breaths.

I missed being held, I missed being touched, I missed being wanted…

I missed Steven.

Tristan’s kisses were angry and sad, apologetic and agonizing, raw and authentic.

Just like mine.

My tongue slid across his bottom lip, and I pressed my hands against his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeats flying through my fingertips—flying into my own body.

For a few seconds, I felt like I had felt before.

Whole.

Complete.

A part of something divine.

Tristan hastily yanked his mouth away from mine and turned away, leading me back to my current, dark reality.

Broken.

Incomplete.

Lonely all the time.

“You don’t know me, so stop acting like you do,” he said. He started walking again, leaving me standing, perplexed.

What was that?!

“You felt it too, didn’t you?” I asked, watching him walk away. “It felt like…it felt like they were still here. It felt like Steven was here. Did it feel like your wife—”