Page 63 of Delirium
“Morning,” I murmured, yawning, coming closer to him.
His legs were on the floor now, his boots back on, but he hadn’t left. For the first time in months, he didn’t leave me alone, and something akin to hope blossomed inside my chest, making me feel… alive? Hopeful? Happy even.
“I gotta tell you,” he smiled, “this sofa chair is the best thing I have ever bought, but it definitely wasn’t made for sleeping.”
Pulling myself up onto my elbows, I let the blankets fall down around my lap, feeling more rested than I had in months. “We need to get you another bed maybe,” I said, looking at him. “Is your neck in pain?”
“Sunshine, I’m an old man.” He chuckled. “What do you think?”
“I think,” I murmured, coming closer to him and taking his hand again in mine. “That you deserve a massage.”
Storm’s eyes widened at my suggestion, his lips parting. Without a fight, he let me pull him onto the bed, until he sat on it, with his back turned to me.
I positioned myself behind him, sitting down on my knees, dragging my hands over his back, all the way to his shoulders. I reveled in the quiet grunts escaping from him as my fingers dug into the tight muscles, breaking through the knots that must have been bothering him for a lot longer than today.
I ran my hands over his trapezius muscles, all the way to his lats, chuckling as he started wiggling in front of me.
“Are you ticklish?” I asked, continuing my little exploration.
“No,” he answered fast, trying to keep still and failing. “Okay, okay,” he relented when I continued pressing my fingers to the same area. “I am. Fine. You win.”
“My Storm is ticklish.” I laughed, unaware of what I just said, as his entire back stiffened, his head slowly turning toward me. It took me a moment to realize what just came out of my mouth, but I didn’t want to take it back.
He didn’t deserve for me to take it back.
I knew it was only one day since we said we would take it slow, but he deserved to know what he meant to me. He deserved to know that he wasn’t alone. That he had me now, these babies. He had one more family that would love him no matter what.
“Storm—”
“Say it again,” he breathed out, completely turning toward me, climbing on top of the bed. “Please,” he said. “Say it again.”
“My Storm,” I whispered, smiling while his shocked eyes devoured every inch of my face, as if he was trying to etch me into his memory. “My brave Storm,” I continued. “Even when I want to stab you, you’re still mine, aren’t you?”
I pressed my palm to his cheek, his eyes closing immediately, leaning into my touch. His stubble tickled my skin, but he didn’t make another move. We sat there as the minutes ticked by, protected in our little bubble, allowing ourselves this small moment where nothing else mattered.
“I’m going to fix the mess I made, Sunshine,” he murmured, pressing his hand over mine. “I’m going to fix it all, and I’m going to show you that you can trust me. I promise you.”
“Storm—”
“No.” He opened his eyes, the determination bright in them. “I don’t want you to ever doubt me. I want us to have a future together, Phee. I want you to trust me like you did before. And I’m going to prove that you can.”
He turned his head toward my palm, his soft lips pressing against my skin, branding me with his touch, before he stood up and started walking toward the door.
“I wish I could stay with you,” he said, taking his gun from the floor. “But I need to go and meet somebody.”
I frowned at that. “Who?”
“I’m afraid if I tell you, you’ll demand to come, and I don’t want you to stab him in the eye.” He smiled.
“Nico?” I exclaimed and stood up after him. “He’s in Santa Monica?”
“He flew in this morning. Turns out that his wife isn’t exactly thrilled with the way we handled things either, so we will fix it.”
“You will?”
“I will.” He nodded, coming closer to me. “Trust me, Sunshine. There’s nothing more important than you and these two kids,” Storm said, splaying his fingers over my stomach. “I will do everything I can to fix this shit. I promise.”
He leaned down, pressing his lips to my forehead, leaving me not a second after, as if he couldn’t trust himself if he stayed a minute longer. I knew, I could see it in the way he held himself back.
