Fallen

18 - begin again

My skin moved against clean sheets as I flexed my aching joints. Atticus had changed the bed at my request and begrudgingly redressed me in a clean v-neck and men's shorts. They were huge on me, even with the drawstring pulled tight, but I felt a modicum better than being completely nude. He had made it plenty clear that he only obliged because of my injuries.

I fell asleep alone. I didn't intend to but this body was so incredibly overworked, it happened almost immediately when Atticus left me to tend to the fire.

Sometime later, my consciousness stirred as I felt the bed shift. Nimble fingers searched out my own, entwining and stilling. My eyelids fluttered open to see pre-dawn light adding warmth to the sky.

Bodies still, I listened to Atticus' breathing slow to a steady rhythm. I didn't want to disturb him, but my curiosity was too strong. Letting it lead me, I closed my eyes and focused on perceiving my soul. Once I was able to reflect inward, I was graced with the soft and shimmering image of myself, wrapped in a smooth membrane. The navy blue school of flecks looked less in sync than usual, probably due to my recent traumas. They still moved in unison but the formation was sloppy, giving me a sense of fatigue. I smiled, proud of myself for my strength.

Shifting my gaze, I sought out my companion. Being so physically close made it easy.

I was still in awe at its condition. Restraining myself from engaging, I took in the changes. Never had I seen a transformation like this. The once-frayed edges were repaired. Looking closely, I could make out the equivalent of scar tissues, marring the surface; a memory of the damage done.

The interior was still a jet-black mass, but light reflected throughout it, causing highlights to appear like distant stars. Instead of harsh undulations, calm waves stirred the depths in consistent motion.

"Wow," I breathed, amazement spilling forward. I retreated into myself, concerned I would give in to the urge to explore deeper. It was sweet of Atticus to read me his journal, but that didn't stop me from having a million and one questions. I fully intended to give him my side of the story but I needed to know what was going on with his soul. I needed to know who he was becoming.

Opening my eyes, I caught sight of his waiting gaze. An apologetic smile spread across my face. "Sorry. Did I wake you?" I asked in a whisper.

Atticus released my hand to run a gentle touch up my arm. "Always wake me," he said,

his fingers trailing further up to tilt my chin so he could inspect my neck. Seemingly satisfied, he met my eyes.

"You need rest too," I chided.

Scooting closer, the demon wrapped long fingers around the back of my skull. "I've rested enough to last me a lifetime." His words had an edge to them. "What I need right now is to feel you. I need you here, with me."

Lips molding to mine, I did not protest. Moaning into the kiss, I slid my leg up over his hip.

Groaning, Atticus removed my appendage gingerly. "I can't believe I'm saying this but-"

"Then don't," I interrupted. The way he made my whole body feel alive was intoxicating.

"Ash, you were really fucked up," he continued. "I don't want to hurt you."

I shrugged. "Then be gentle with me," I provided.

A chuckle ghosted over my face before he honked my nose. "I literally don't think I can do that right now."

Seeing the intensity in his eyes, I swallowed hard. The hunger there was not doing anything to quell my own urges. At this rate, he was going to need to compel me again. "You started it," I huffed.