Champion (Page 55)
“They will kill you.” He draws closer. His eyes beg me to listen. “Please.”
I shake my head. “I’m staying right here. The people don’t need their morale crushed any further. Besides, you might need me.” I give a little smile. “I think I know a few things about the Republic’s military that could come in handy, wouldn’t you say?”
Day shakes his head in frustration, but at the same time he knows I won’t budge. He knows, because he would do no differently in my position.
He takes my hand in his and pulls me toward him. His arms wrap around me. I’m so unused to his touch that this embrace sends an overwhelming wave of heat through my body. I close my eyes, collapse against his chest, and savor it. Has it really been so long since the last time we kissed? Have I really missed him this much? Have all the problems threatening to crush us both weakened us to the point where we are gasping for breath, clinging desperately to each other for survival? I’ve forgotten how right it feels to be in his arms. His collar shirt is rumpled and soft against my skin, and beneath it his chest is warm and pulses with the faint beating of his heart. He smells of earth, smoke, and wind.
“You drive me insane, June,” he murmurs against my hair. “You’re the scariest, most clever, bravest person I know, and sometimes I can’t catch my breath because I’m trying so hard to keep up. There will never be another like you. You realize that, don’t you?” I tilt my face up to see him. His eyes reflect the faint lights from the JumboTrons, a rainbow of evening colors. “Billions of people will come and go in this world,” he says softly, “but there will never be another like you.”
My heart twists until it threatens to break. I don’t know how to respond.
Then he releases me abruptly—the coolness of the night is a sudden shock against my skin. Even in the darkness, I can see the blush on his cheeks. His breathing sounds heavier than usual. “What is it?” I say.
“I’m sorry,” he replies, his voice strained. “I’m dying, June—I’m no good for you. And I do so well until I see you in person, and then everything changes again. I think I don’t care about you anymore, that things will be easier once you’re far away, and then all of a sudden I’m here again, and you’re . . .” He pauses to look at me. The anguish in his expression is a knife cutting through my heart. “Why do I do this to myself? I see you and feel such—” He has tears in his eyes now. The sight is more than I can bear. He takes two steps away from me and then turns back like a caged animal. “Do you even love me?” he suddenly asks. He grips both of my shoulders. “I’ve said it to you before, and I still mean it. But I’ve never heard it from you. I can’t tell. And then you give me this ring”—he pauses to hold his hand up—“and I don’t know what to think anymore.”
He draws closer, until I feel his lips against my ear. My entire body trembles. “Do you have any idea?” he says in a soft, broken, hoarse whisper. “Do you know how . . . how badly I wish . . .”
He pulls away long enough to look me desperately in the eyes. “If you don’t love me, just say it—you have to help me. It’d probably be for the best. It’d make it easier to stay away from you, wouldn’t it? I can let go.” He says it like he’s trying to convince himself. “I can let go, if you don’t love me.”
He says this as if he thinks I’m the stronger one. But I’m not. I can’t keep this up any better than he can. “No,” I say through gritted teeth and blurry vision. “I can’t help you. Because I do love you.” There it is, out in the open. “I’m in love with you,” I repeat.
There’s a conflicted look in Day’s eyes, a joy and a grief, that makes him so vulnerable. I realize then how little defense he has against my words. He loves so wholly. It is his nature. He blinks, then tries to find the right response. “I—” he stumbles. “I’m so afraid, June. So afraid of what might happen to—”
I put two fingers against his lips to hush him. “Fear makes you stronger,” I whisper. Before I can stop myself, I put my hands on his face and press my mouth to his.
Whatever shreds of self-restraint Day had now crumble into pieces. He falls into my kiss with helpless urgency. I feel his hands touch my face, one palm smooth and one still wrapped in bandages, and then he wraps his arms frantically around my waist, pulling me so close that I gasp aloud. No one compares to him. And right now, I want nothing else.
We make our way back inside, our lips never apart. Day stumbles against me, then loses his balance, and we collapse backward into my bed. His body knocks the breath out of me. His hands run along my jaw and neck, down my back, down my legs. I tug his coat off. Day’s lips move away from mine and he buries his face against my neck. His hair fans out across my arm, heavy and softer than any silk I’ve ever worn. Day finally finds the buttons on my shirt. I’ve already loosened his, and underneath the fabric his skin is hot to the touch. The heat radiating from him warms me. I savor the weight of him.
Neither of us dares to say a word. We’re afraid that words will stop us, that they’ll tear apart the spell that binds us. He’s trembling as much as I am. It suddenly occurs to me that he must be just as nervous. I smile when his eyes first meet mine and then lower in a bashful gesture. Day is shy? What a strange new emotion on his face, something out of place and yet so fitting. I’m relieved to see it, because I can feel the blush rising hot on my own cheeks. Embarrassed, I feel an urge to cover up my exposed skin. I’ve frequently imagined what this would be like, lying with Day for the first time. I’m in love with him. I tentatively test these new words again in my mind, amazed and frightened by what they might mean. He is here, and he is real, flesh and blood.