Ending Maker novel · Chapter 12 of 24

Chapter 12: Not Nothing

He crossed the room and stood in front of me.

He did not touch me.

He just looked, his eyes moving over my face.

"I'm here," he said.

"I know."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Say it again."

"I'm not going anywhere."

I took his face in my hands.

His cheeks were rough and damp, and he turned into my palm.

"This isn't the hot spring," I said.

"No."

"That was us fighting. This is us not fighting."

"Yes."

I kissed him.

It was slower this time, and so deep that my knees went.

He lifted me against the shelf, and ash fell from the burned wood overhead.

I didn't care.

I wanted every layer of armor gone, and I told him so, with my hands.

He laughed against my mouth, a shaky, real laugh, and started on the buckles.

The Sunblade's gold dropped piece by piece to the floor, gauntlet, pauldron, breastplate, until I stood in the lantern light in my shift.

He undid the ties of his own black plate, and I helped him, and when his shirt came off, I put my mouth on the scar between his shoulder blades.

He shuddered all over.

"Up," I said.

At the back of the room a stone loft held a reading table, long and flat, covered in dust.

I swept the dust off with my forearm, sat on the edge, and pulled him between my knees.

"You're in charge," he said, hoarse.

"I know."

"Tell me what you want."

"I want you on your knees."

His eyes went dark.

He sank down in front of me, slowly, and his hands slid up the insides of my thighs.

He pushed my shift up to my waist.

I watched his face as he looked at me, and I watched him swallow.

"God," he said. "Look at you."

"Stop looking."

"No."

He put his mouth on me.

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