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Post by JONATHAN ♥ REINHARDT on Mar 17, 2013 1:38:59 GMT -6
  A million different scenarios exploded across the span of his mind, each expecting a more radical and excited outcome than the one she provided. She could have screamed, yelled or ran away again, but she accepted his invitation. Suddenly unsure, he froze standing still eyes trained on a tree ahead. Shocked, that was the only way to explain what he was feeling and all the words that had prepared him to fight against any resistance she would provide fell away. He relented to her touch, forgetful of what it was like to feel someone so close. Before he could react the world was shifting again, changing until he felt the unfamiliar touch of a soft hand against his. He was suddenly embarrassed by the rough and unforgiving texture of his hands worn down by combat and hard labor. “Me too…” He whispered back as he gave her hand a squeeze. With a small gesture down the path he led the way thinking of anything he could possibly talk about. Casual conversation had never been part of Jonathan’s repertoire and sharing wasn’t exactly his specialty. However, the arrival at his home meant that darker details of their lives would come out and he needed to know he could comfort her when that time came.
“I was born in 1922 in a German Village called Naundorf, which is now modern day Schwarzheide. It was a small town full of pretty flower vendors, humble shoe makers and odd ends like that.” The tone of his voice was casual and light, careful not to tread too deep in waters they were not ready for. Instead he recalled the smaller and finer details which made up his childhood and the fonder things he remembered. Later would come the confessions of what would become for Schwarzheide and why he was so avoidant with his past. Later would come the condemnation of his character and the possibility that she, like God would never forgive him for his atrocities. That was later and what happened later was not what Jonathan would concern himself with presently. After all, if one worried about tomorrow before it ever came, they were already setting themselves up for failure. “My father Heinrich fought in the first world war, he was a decorated general, but even he couldn’t resist the charms of his childhood sweetheart, my mother Eva Reichenau.” He swallowed hard at the mention of their names unable to think of her without the blood staining her face. A quick moment of sadness passed over him, but he brushed it away with an iron composure.
It took a moment for him to regain his thoughts. In lieu of his words came the quiet of the campus grounds as the forests began to disappear behind them. The edge of the forest was speckled with firepits and makeshift benches, much of which was used by students to tell ghost stories during late night cookouts. “You would have liked my mother. She was beautiful. Even with the sharp angelic grace that most of us were born with, she was soft and she could calm anyone with just the sound of her voice. You remind me of her…” Silence came once more as the sound of his voice trailed off. It had been a bit of a walk, but they were nearing the edge of Sceptre city. There against the backdrop of a number of different houses was a sizeable, but humble cabin-like home. He led her to the door sifting through his pocket for his keys before producing a ring of them. Unlocking the door, he led her inside and much to anyone’s surprise it was well furnished and looked like it should have housed a family rather than a lone mercenary.
“Make yourself comfortable.” He gestured towards the u-shaped arrangement of couches surrounding a coffee table which faced the fireplace. “Apollo, medical bag.” The dog quickly recognized the cross shape that Jonathan formed with his fingers and after bounding into the living room to say hello, bounded back into a part of the house which housed the medical bag. “Did you want tea or something else, I’m sure I can fix something up.” He kept composed despite the uneasiness that was creeping into him. The fact that he brought her home had been a big leap and now they were going to broach a subject for both of them that was tough and tender all the same. For that moment, he stayed away from the thought of talking and kept his mind on the stock of snacks and beverages he had in his kitchen. Despite furnishing his house well, he was still a man and there was a slight lack in variety when it came to food and hospitality.
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Post by LEENA ♥ BLAKE on Mar 17, 2013 10:06:33 GMT -6
sail with me
His hand dwarfed hers, anchoring her to the ground and the present. Holding his overshirt on her shoulders with her free hand, she listened and walked, trying not to trip over the dark ground. The area along the woods was a popular spot for students in the summer, but was now deserted. Part of her was glad for that. How would they explain any of this if someone saw? Clenching her jaw, the nurse forced the thought, and ones like it, to the back of her mind. She wouldn't let them ruin this or run this time. She was tired of running, and hiding, and being afraid. Her anchor drew her back as he began to talk, and Lee watched him talk in what remained of the daylight. She blushed when he compared her to his angelic mother, suddenly glad that the dark was advancing to hide it. The nurse could hardly agree with the comparison, but she didn't speak. Images floated in her mind of her own mother, and she waited for the pain that usually came with them. It ached faintly, like an old familiar friend, before she let them go again. Her attention was soon diverted to the house that they approached, emerging from the darkness.
As she waited for him to unlock the door, butterflies suddenly bloomed in her stomach. A sudden nervous feeling energized her somewhat and she took a few small breaths. The small smile returned as she allowed herself to be led inside. Her eyes jumped from one thing to the next without waiting, taking in the home of such a strange man. She didn't know what she expected, but the home seemed to...fit. "Tea is fine," Lee replied with a muted voice, tearing her eyes from their task of taking inventory, "Thank you." Drifting away from the door, she walked slowly toward the fireplace and couches. Already she felt herself warming and wondered if it was because she was indoors, or because she was in his home. Her eyes resumed their task of scanning bookshelves and walls, bringing her in a circle around the perimeter of the room. It was quiet, she noted almost sadly, and while it wasn't empty, she felt an bareness that permeated the house. When she was satisfied with her examination, Lee moved toward the couches and sat at the very center of the arrangement, slumping back into the inviting cushions.
Nerves again fought to make her shake and worry, but she made quick work of them. Low, long breaths banished them until she was left again with only her thoughts, which turned toward the conversation rapidly approaching. Words that she had long thought about to open old wounds came back and she sorted through to find the right ones. He compared her to an angel, but she felt like a monster. He had admitted once to doing bad things, and she assumed he meant that he was responsible for many deaths. Lee was responsible for just one, but it ached like a thousand. To be the end of a strangers life was no less grave than that of a loved one's, but it seemed more sinister, more damnable. She could only find forgiveness from herself, but the elemental was almost certain she could never give it. Removing her shoes, she pulled her knees up her chin and rubbed the edge of John's shirt, still wrapped around her shoulders, with her thumb. His scent drifted off of it and she was secretly loath to give it back. It was a simple thing, but it gave her a small amount of courage.
into the dark
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Post by JONATHAN ♥ REINHARDT on Mar 17, 2013 20:42:10 GMT -6
He left her alone momentarily, walking around the wall to the kitchen where he filled and plugged in his electric kettle. With a deep breath he stared at the wall lined with cabinets almost horrified at the fact that he’d actually have to dig through them. Drifting about, he handled the task at hand and sifted through his pantry for some tea. Luckily, he still had some packages of twinings tea left. With care he grabbed two mugs from the cupboard and waited till the kettle was finished heating. When the water was hot he poured it into the mugs. He pinched the box of twinings between his arm and body while he carried the mugs. In the light it was easier to see the toll the last days had on John. Insomnia darkened his eyes and dulled the glow which usually hung about his figure. Weariness ravaged his bones and took from the grace that usually marked his composure. In its place was a weakness that sapped his defenses, deteriorating them until he forgot they were necessary. John was feeling the first waves of exhaustion and he was hoping that Leena wouldn’t notice the battered look about him. It all dragged him down with an unbearable weight. Day to day he was suffering in the haze of tainted memories brought on by Leena’s arrival into his life.
He turned the corner noting that Apollo was already by the fireplace with his mouth still clamped around the handle of the medic’s bag. Carefully John placed the cups on the table and the box of tea bags between them. “Help yourself.” With a gesture of his hand Apollo came to him quickly handing over the bag before disappearing from the room. The house was large and Apollo, in the new environment had taken much liking to sleeping in the various rooms testing out each comfortable surface. John had found it extremely amusing, especially upon awaking one morning to find the dog had nestled up in an empty cupboard he managed to open. He laid the bag of medical supplies on one side of her and took his place on the other side, careful to leave a bit of space between them. He didn’t want to suffocate her or pressure her to leave again, not when they had made it this far. “I’m fine really, but if it makes you feel better, there’s bandages and wound cleaning supplies in there.” With Leena time was fluid, gentle and flowing like a wisp of cloud pushed quietly by the wind. She opened up a range of what if’s and maybes. There was a future here, a capability to become something more than the monster he had allowed himself to become. Yet she was also the destruction that could break him and push him further into the darkness which would devour him.
“Do you want something warmer?” He asked making not of the way she had curled up on the couch. It looked like she had curled up in defense, to protect herself from an unknown force. It was the kind of body language a child gave off when they were trying to get comfortable when the loudest thunderstrikes of a storm came in. He didn’t feel sorry for her, he just wondered how badly the wounds she received had cut her. His was both emotional and physical, but he had a found a way, though maniacal, to cope with it. She, although unmarked by any scars physically, seemed damaged and fragile. There was no doubt that Leena could hold her own, but Jonathan wanted to lift the weight from her shoulders even if only for a moment. He wanted to embrace her, share the peaceful moment they had a moment earlier when she had laid her head upon his chest. While they couldn’t forget the cruel design of fate, they could start a new one together. He pushed aside the thoughts, secretly saving them in case there was a chance that would ever work, for now he’d make his tea and wait for the worst, because they still hadn’t gotten over the lump of what their lives had become and what had truly happened to them. Staring into the ripples as he dipped his bag of tea into the heated waters, John’s voice filled the silence with a low, but gentle talk.“Where do you want to start?”
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Post by LEENA ♥ BLAKE on Mar 18, 2013 0:12:44 GMT -6
sail with me
Leaning forward as he placed the mugs on the table, Leena drew a packet from the box and made quick work of opening it and letting it drop into the water without splashing. She left the bag to steep and turned to the bag he had placed beside her. She paused, running a hand over the worn bag. It looked like it belonged to a different time entirely and she couldn't help wondering how far it had traveled come reach this spot now. Sighing, she opened the bag and sifted through the supplies there. "It's alright. I'm warm enough now," Lee said, flashing him a quick smile, "And I'd prefer to have something to do as I talk as far as the cuts go." Pausing, she watched him slowly steep his own tea. It was a surprisingly domestic thing and her mind wandered to the other normal things he did. It was strange how they never occurred to her before. Shaking her head, she turned back to the bag. Now she knew she was getting tired, with random thoughts diverting her attention so easily. Even with the space between them, she felt the barriers lowering, however painfully slow. It would be easier once she started. At least, that's what she kept saying. Gotta flush the poison out of her system. Plucking a packet of cotton balls and hydrogen peroxide from the bag, she reached out for his arm and, gently holding it, pulled it into her lap. "Sorry if this stings." She doused the cotton and began to dab at each of the pinprick cuts.
Leena felt strangely serene after her outburst in the woods, and this busy work only relaxed her more. "I didn't know my father," she murmured after a moment. Her eyes were focused on carefully cleaning each of the cuts and sealing them with antiseptic. "My mother always told me different stories about who he was, but I realized as I got older that it wasn't more than a one-night stand. I don't think my mother would've ever admitted it, even when I was an adult. But she loved me, and we lived alone not far from the city. A kind of rural area." The nurse lifted one arm from her lap and stood, moving to sit on his other side. The shirt fell from her shoulders in the process, and she left it draped over the back of the couch before stepping between John and the coffee table. Seated, she repeated the process, cleaning and dabbing. Bandages weren't really needed since most of it was just scrapes. "I had a pretty normal childhood. A couple of friends and all that. Never a pet though, although I begged for one all the time." Lee focused on a larger cut on his arm, just above the bend in his elbow. This one would need a bandage. Just a small one. She reached across him to the bag and pulled out a small paper packet. "It was my tenth birthday when I showed any changes, surprisingly. My mother was a mundane and had no notion of supernatural abilities. So, when she came to wake me up for school and I told her I felt hot, she assumed I just had a fever. It was the perfect day, though. She called off of work and we both stayed at home. Other than a high temperature, I felt fine, but a ten year old would rarely admit to feeling healthy on a school day."
Dampening another cotton ball, Leena turned to face John. In truth, she hadn't even bothered to notice personal space. Being a nurse had taken over her mind. Her eyes glanced between his own, almost trying to read his thoughts, before focusing on a graze on his cheek. Hesitating only once, she patted the red spot with her cotton. "I guess I was angry that night, when she tucked me in. Even though it had been the perfect day, I still wanted him to be there. I was tired of seeing my friends with their fathers each day. I had imagined that he'd show up at one of my birthdays and would marry my mother and everything would be fine. But he never did. One of the things about being an elemental is that your abilities are often linked with your emotions. It's hard for us to hide our feelings sometimes." She paused and leaned back, placing the used cotton ball onto a pile with the others. She also removed the tea bag from her mug and pressed it against her spoon to drain it. Bringing it to her lips, Leena sipped at the still-hot drink before continuing. She was afraid to stop at this point. "So, you put an angry little ten year old fire elemental and let her fall asleep with those thoughts...well, it was obvious. I woke up when the fire jumped to my sheets. I saw it pouring off of me and panicked. It went out quickly, my body not used to supplying the flames with energy, but the damage was done. The house was beyond saving within a few minutes. Firefighters pulled my mother and I out after neighbors called. I wasn't touched, of course, but my mother...um." Biting her lip, Lee fought to control the stinging in her eyes. She rubbed her nose and forced the words out. "She didn't....they said it was the smoke. And I knew it was my fault. I was terrified that they would find out and ran when no one was looking. Not knowing where else to go, I headed for the city, remembering shows about kids living on their own. It wasn't so easy though. Luckily, a woman there, another elemental, had pity on me and kind of took me in. Then I came here after the revealing of Supes, and here we are, I suppose." The last few sentences were rushed and she took a large swallow of scalding tea before her mouth got away from her. Her eyes avoided his as she put the cap back on the hydrogen peroxide, counting the seconds of silence that followed. But it was said, and a part of Leena felt..lighter. She breathed out slowly, waiting.
into the dark
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Post by JONATHAN ♥ REINHARDT on Mar 18, 2013 1:51:02 GMT -6
Despite the exhaustion running rampant through his system John was hyper aware of everything Leena did. Her small movements, fleeting smiles and the flicker of light every now and then when she allowed him in were slowly being stored in his memory. Unlike the time before when he was hesitant of her touch, he relented a part of him yearning for some kind of comfort that she provided. There was no turning back, from the moment they shared a quiet moment in the forest to walking hand in hand back to his home it became a dangerous game of make or break. What he wanted from her still hadn’t registered in his mind and what she was willing to give still hadn’t materialized into the air for him to see. For that moment contentment in allowing her to touch him and tend to his cuts and wounds would have to be enough. With a wrinkle of his nose, he muscled through the stinging sensation suddenly wishing he had been born with the numbing ability rather than pain infliction. “I’ve felt worse…” He said, his voice faltering at the end of the sentence when he realized what the implications were. The faint smile retreated as he shooed the thoughts away. “If it busies you and it calms you, a little discomfort on my part is just a small sacrifice.”
He let the words linger, quieting himself and keeping still as her story filled his ears. They always started that way. The stories were simple, sometimes happy, but mostly smooth and calm. Then seemingly out of nowhere they would careen into disaster, blowing up in the face of anyone listening. To some hearing them evoked sympathy, but to many the full effect of the story never emulated the true effect on the story teller. History was cruel and the past had done some pretty nasty things to some fairly good people. As she tended the wounds he couldn’t help, but dabble between her past and his own. She was innocent, unknowing of her powers and incapable of thinking of the possible outcomes of her abusing them. Jonathan was far from that. He used his powers against other children and family’s that did his family wrong. It was all in all, his fault. He flinched, awakened from his thoughts at the feel of stinging on his cheek. Mentally chiding himself, he sat still, pursing his lips until she finished. “Sorry…” He murmured, a half-smile cracking his lips. As the story unfolded, John pictured Leena as a little girl running away from such a tragic scene. They were so young and yet they managed the courage to live on and start their lives anew, but in some ways both of them had started the wrong way and kept all the wrong secrets. As she put a cap on the hydrogen peroxide John was suddenly glad the cuts and bruises didn’t need too many bandages. He already felt ridiculous revealing his past to an acquaintance he only met once before. He didn’t need the ridicule of a dozen bandages covering his skin to add to it.
“The remarkable thing about everything that you said, is that you still honestly believe you’re to blame.” Without a single moment’s hesitation, John reached out for her hand taking it in his. With a gentle squeeze he let his eyes linger on her fingers wondering how such gentle hands could cause any destruction. He avoided saying it, knowing full and well she’d probably cite the accidental death of her mother. “Yes, you caused the fire and yes unfortunately you’re mother died, but do you honestly believe she’d want you to blame yourself for it?” As the words left his lips, a hypocritical weight began to stack on his shoulders. The words reflected back bringing the face of his mother to his mind, her sorrowful face admonishing her son for being so hard on himself. “You didn’t know and she didn’t know and even though she’s gone, she probably still watches over you and I can’t imagine her not being proud of the woman you’ve become.” He took a sip of his tea before placing the mug on the table again. The heated water soothed the ache in his chest and calmed his nerves. “I know my family doesn’t blame me for their deaths, even though it was my fault, but they’d hate me for the person I’ve become…” He drew in a deep breath before standing, gingerly releasing her hand as he walked over to the book shelf. Knocking loose a hidden compartment at the bottom of the shelf, he pulled a thin photo album from the bottom and returned to his place next to Leena, sitting close so that he could offer the pictures with his narrative.
“I have very few pictures of my family, most burned down with our home when the executioners came for us. What I have left are pictures from history books, public sources and some that I hunted down through living family members.” With a gentle turn the thick, aging leather bound photo album opened. Inside was a moment in time captured in this aged capsule. While this was part of his lifetime, it seemed impossible that the man sitting with the book half on his lap and half on hers, could have lived to see such a different time. He pointed to a photo of a man wearing circular bifocals and dressed in a WWI German General’s Uniform standing next to a fair haired and slight woman in a white dress. “They were simple people Heinrich and Eva, loving parents who never wanted anything to happen to their children. We could have lived in the city, but father wanted the discretion and humility of a rural and small upbringing. So mother suggested a small village called Naundorf.” Trailing down the page, he found the next photo. It was a picture of fraternal twin babies. It was a bit hard to tell in the photo, but both were fair skinned and bright eyed and though it was black and white it was evident that one child hand dark hair and the other was blonde. “My sister Elise and I were born only a few minutes apart, I was younger and smaller, but she never took advantage of that. My parents were very worried about me, I wasn’t like them. Angels are supposed to be fair haired and white winged, at least that’s what my parents believed. My wings were black and unlike my sister and parents, I couldn’t cast out any light.”
His eyebrows knit together in frustration. The mind travelled backward, pulling him into a time he wished he had long forgotten. “I got so frustrated one day that I screamed at my father and stared him down until he was on his knees begging for the pain to stop. I was scared and it stopped and I knew I was dangerous. I have the ability to cause someone pain and inflict it until it’s unbearable and for that reason my family was afraid for me.” There was a quiver in his voice and unknown to him, his hands began to shake lightly. The feel of fire against his skin, the gunshots filling the wounds that had already healed and the blades cutting into his back again Jonathan felt cornered wanting nothing more than to curl up in defense. “I was picked on by the kids in the village for being small and my family already earned the name of witches because of the glow we carried and the fact that my mother had given birth to twins. I started hurting people who picked on me or my sister and anyone who talked about my family.” He breathed in trying to fill the hollow ache that was cracking at his ribs.
“People noticed and they came after us. A mob swarmed our house and dragged my family out to be tied to a stake. The men began to burn us as the women burned down our house.” Tears began to well up in his eyes as he shook, his voice unsteady as he continued. “We used our wings to break the ties and we tried to fly away, but they shot at us and hacked at our wings. My mother kept screaming for us to run and Elise and I ran, but they caught up to us and they shot and cut the wings off my sister. The last thing I remember is her wide eyes staring at me and screaming for me to get away and live.” One by one, the droplets of tears fell from his face. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone, I just wanted to protect my family. I could have saved them, I could have given us time to escape, but I was so scared that my powers they didn’t work… I failed them and because I survived, I knew I had to do something to avenge their deaths.” He turned the page brushing back his hair with obvious frustration or affliction. “I joined the Nazi military with the plan to come back to Naundorf, which became part of Schwarzheide, and I succeeded.”
He motioned to several pictures of himself dressed sharply in the uniform of an officer and then that of him in his SS Uniform. “I was one of Hitler’s favorite SS Officers and I made a false report that Naundorf was full of refugee Jews. I went there and murdered every man who lived in that village elderly and young. The children and the women we rounded up and put in the concentration camp at Schwarzheide, because I couldn’t live with the knowledge that I murdered them too.” Another flip showed the photos of the concentration camp before the atrocities that would occur there. “The only one in this room who is a monster is me and the only one not worth forgiveness, is me.” He blinked away the water feeling the warmth in his cheeks as the tears ran through them. His eyes remained on the last page of the book. He didn’t deserve to look into her eyes and he doubted she would be able to look at him. He had dropped the iron curtain between them and there was no doubt in his mind that it was a mistake to tell her.
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Post by LEENA ♥ BLAKE on Mar 18, 2013 17:48:31 GMT -6
sail with me
Lee watched his hand close around hers, somewhat comforted by the contact. A few warm tears finally escaped her and she brushed them aside quickly before others could follow. It was hard to imagine what her mother would have thought, but his words brought back memories that she hadn't remembered in a long time. Birthdays and swimming. First days of school. Squeezing his hand in return, and nodded, afraid that speaking would break the hold she had on herself. Reluctantly letting his hand go when he stood, the nurse took another sip of the tea and felt her limbs get heavier. It was as if a sudden weight was shifted from her shoulders and all she wanted to do now was rest. When John returned to the couch and opened the album across both of their laps, Leena placed her mug on the table and leaned closer. She gently ran a finger down one yellowed page and suddenly realized what he was sharing.
Silent, she listened to his story, feeling with each word the weight of the album on her lap. Her finger tips touched the book as lightly as possible, treating it as one might a butterfly's wing. "She was beautiful," the elemental murmured, studying each black and white grain of the picture of his parents. It was hard to imagine them in color, as if they were trapped in a grayscale world. But they were real people once. The next picture was even more striking. She glanced over at the man beside her, then back to the photo. The more he went on, the more she could feel he was resisting it. The tremble in his hand and waver in his voice. It was something she realized wouldn't be easily fixed. Old wounds take time. Bleed the poison. With each droplet that fell, Lee realized he was much braver than her. Not for seeking revenge or wanting it, but for being able to keep going after. The images of him in uniform and of the camps sent a chill down her spine, but she swallowed and forced it away. Silence, ever the constant companion, stretched between them as Lee soaked in his words.
After a moment, she lifted her eyes from the book up to his face. Her eyes traced his profile, waiting for him to look at her. It took her a minute or so to realize that he was purposely not turning to face her. With one hand, she reached up and, with a firm but gentle grip, lifted his chin. She made him face her and looked him straight in the eyes. "You are not a monster, Jonathan Reinhardt. Monsters feel no remorse. Monsters don't cry for what they've done. Monsters," she said, frowning deeply and feeling her own tears come fighting back, "Don't admit that they're monsters." Lee's voice wasn't angry, but stern as she felt tears break away from her. It frustrated her to no end to know that he could so easily take the weight from her shoulders and tell her not to blame herself, but she struggled to fix him.
into the dark
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Post by JONATHAN ♥ REINHARDT on Mar 20, 2013 22:07:34 GMT -6
The silence washed over the both of them, letting the full agony of the past settle in his bones. A moment passed before he realized Leena was touching him, turning his face so that he’d have to look at her. Her voice filled his ears with the words he hadn’t allowed himself to believe before. For the majority of his life he had raised himself to be angry, to feel the prowess of his powers in the battles he fought and the lives he took. The violence, the turmoil and the purposeful callousness had pushed the pain to the deepest parts of his memory. While it wasn’t the solution to his problems it had worked. It seemed like a good idea to broach it, to try and reconcile with his ghosts, but now that the ache had rattled his bones, he wasn’t so sure he wanted to try and reconcile anymore.
His eyes were still lowered and slowly he forced himself to bring them up to hers. When they finally met he felt comforted in an unfamiliar way. The tears had come back, betraying her eyes as they betrayed his. They were both shrouded in the mixed emotions of letting the past come to terms. While it wasn’t fully out of his system, John felt less terrorized by the demons that followed him out of Schwarzheide. Maybe they were finally gone, the people whom he had hurt and the family that was torn form him. Perhaps after hearing the story leave his lips, they forgave him. He would never know, not until he met his maker. For now, in that moment, he had her understanding, her compassion. Carefully he brought his hand up to her face, gently brushing away the tears. “I’m sorry…” He murmured softly. “I didn’t mean to make you cry.” A small, weak smile upturned his lips as he pushed for a lighter mood.
A lot had transpired in the last few moments and for whatever reason he was okay with that. Leena brought a warmth with her that he hadn’t felt in a long time. She was soft, tender, but strong in her own rights. She was a dream, a memory of a life he could have had. As he took her in, he realized she was there, real and more than just a vapor of an image. This was a life he could have. Hesitating for only a second, he rested his hand against her cheek, closing the distance between them. Lingering, he let their lips brush. He spoke, the warmth of his breath tickling her lips as he went along. “Thank you…” Gently he pressed his lips against hers indulging in the tender moment. The kiss was inevitable, while he hadn’t known it when they first met, he knew now he’d never go on without knowing what it would be like. Especially since he had never allowed anyone else that same privilege. Leena was special, someone worth risking everything.
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