Justin doubted they could spend eight hours without fighting. Trying to relate to Jess was a bit like skydiving without a parachute. Every time he reveled in his grasp on her thought process, she overreacted or chose not to react at all. None of her histrionics bothered him anymore. He had been commissioned by her guardians, to wait for her, and for three hundred years, he had done just that. Now that she was with him, he didn’t intend to let her escape his protection.
The sound of rain hitting the tin roof lulled him into the closest thing to sleep he could achieve. His eyes were heavy, and he was at ease in a way he hadn’t been since Jess entered his life. When she crawled into bed and announced her intent to nap, he laid next to her.
“What’s this?” He outlined a scar on her knee. The way the delicate skin buckled and zigzagged across her leg was fascinating and sad.
“I fell off a four-wheeler in third grade. I didn’t let go for like thirty yards and ended up with a gnarly bit of road rash.”
“Did it hurt?” He tried to imagine what physical pain felt like. Nothing. He didn’t get it. Sometimes he felt pain, or what he thought was pain, but it was dull not the exquisite rush he wished he could experience.
“No, not at all,” she smiled, her voice light and full of irony.
Was she smiling? He had expected her to rebuke his inquisition. She had a way about her which quieted all his resentments, and he relished how they seldom agreed. Women had thrown themselves at Justin for centuries, and he never felt what he felt now, save once. That time long ago, seemed never to have existed now. He pushed the thought away, and pointed to a scar which ran the length of her upper arm.
“What about this?”
She squirmed, rubbing at the thick pink tissue. Her eyes pulled down on the edges causing tiny lines to appear. He’d notice this each time she’d tussled with a secret she didn’t want to share. Despite the need to know what she was hiding, he ordered himself to stay out of her mind.
“Car accident. I was seventeen. I flipped it on the way home from a bar one night. It was awful.” Her eyes were glazed over, focused on a memory that held the power to wash all the color from her face.
Justin ignored her angst, lest he push her into another place she apparently didn’t need to revisit. “Pain?”
“Is the thought of my trauma turning you on?” She cocked her head, the rose hue returning to her lips and cheeks.
“No. Well, maybe a little. I don’t feel pain like you do, it’s interesting. But, you are so hateful.” He grinned.
Satisfied he’d scrutinized her every imperfection, he took his shirt off ignoring his mind’s insistence he back off, and pushed her into the mattress rubbing his mouth against her throat.
“What are you doing?” she mumbled.
“I’m kissing you.” He feigned annoyance. “Do you mind?”
“No, but you’re breaking the rules.” She playfully slapped his shoulder shaking a finger at him.
“Who said I couldn’t kiss you?” he wondered aloud.
She shrugged, and he covered her lips with his. Why was it so hard to stay with her? His body issued an order to put space between them, but he ignored it. Her breath was hot, and he attached his fingers to hers to keep his hands from exploring places they didn’t belong. When he felt her mouth open, and her tongue touch his lip, a jolt of electricity bolted through him. All at once, he was certain he had to go back to his chair in the corner, but before he departed a familiar sensation surged across his shoulders and back. He knew the wings were there, and he chuckled as he hid his face in the mattress behind her.
Jess snickered. She threw her arm over her mouth, stifling the sound, but he could feel her shake with delight. Every time he thought she was done, she was clutched by a new round of laughter. No longer mortified, he looked up to see her caressing the wings that blanketed them.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked. Her smile was thrilling. No woman had ever smiled at him that way, like he was amazing and wonderful, just the way he was.
“I’m sorry, was that involuntary?” She snorted rubbing her thumb across his forehead.
Justin grinned fleeing the bed as though he’d been yanked back to his usual post, by her bed, by unseen hands. “Extreme emotion.”
She giggled again. “Come back…please.”
“No, I don’t think so. You’re mean in case I haven’t said it before.” He reached for the remote and turned on the TV.
“But, I love you.”
Her words sounded so genuine his stomach clenched. He knew she loved him, and wasn’t sure he was worthy. “Take a nap.”
She fell back into the pillow, as though she’d been defeated. He watched her sleep and wondered if, for the time being, she’d reconciled with her existence. She knew him better than any human had, but had he shared enough? His mind churned with ideas he wasn’t inclined to allow, so he turned up the volume and lost himself in the noise of the television.