Page 167 of Requiem
Back when we were younger and hopelessly obsessed with each other. Except now there’s something quieter inside him. The boy I fell in love with is still in there, but when he laughs, it’s not as loud. When he’s sad, it’s compounded. When he’s angry, I give him space.
It’s both a beautiful and devastating thing to witness. Because of the abuse he endured for years, he’s become more communicative. Now, there’s always this carefulness to him beforehand, like he needs to hear me choose him every single time. And after all of the violence his hands have known, he’s more possessive and wild in the bedroom.
Tonight, he’s humming under his breath while stirring pasta, and when he catches me smiling at him from the counter, he smirks. “Are you drooling over the food? Or me?”
I snort. “Obviously you. You’re shirtless and singing to MGK while making me dinner,” I reply. “You created this situation.”
His laugh fills the kitchen, though it’s softer than before. I’ve missed that sound. Even if it is a little different, I’ll love and cherish it forever.
Nova lifts her enormous black head from the rug near the sliding doors at the sound of it, tail thumping lazily against the hardwood floor, before she wanders over toward Jude, hopefully searching for dropped food. He scratches behind her ears absentmindedly while still singing along quietly, and I swear something inside me heals a little more every time I see how kind he still is, even after everything.
The song ends, and for a few quiet seconds, the only sound in the kitchen is the gentle sizzle of garlic in the pan and the distant crash of waves beyond the windows. Then another song begins, and the opening notes hit me instantly.
Jude freezes at the exact same moment I do.
“Right Here”by Lil Peep.
Our song.
The one that somehow followed us through every version of ourselves, through first love and heartbreak, through years apart and the impossible road that led us back here.
For a moment neither of us moves. Then Jude slowly turns toward me, and the look on his face steals every coherent thought from my head because I can see it all reflected there. Every late-night drive. Every kiss. Every promise. Every memory we almost lost to darkness. Every version of us that survived long enough to find each other again.
A smile spreads across my face.
Without saying a word, Jude sets the wooden spoon down on the counter and crosses the kitchen toward me. I laugh softly as his hands slide around my waist and pull me against him.
“What are you doing?” I whisper.
His answer is another smile.
The music swells around us while golden sunset light pours through the windows behind him, and then he’s kissing me. When he finally pulls back, it’s only far enough to rest his forehead against mine.
Then he starts singing. It’s just loud enough to vibrate through my body, calming me in the same ways it always did whenever I was anxious.
It’s just for me.
The familiar lyrics brush against my lips between kisses, his voice low and warm and gentle, and goosebumps rise across my skin. My eyes begin watering instantly, because I was so fucking terrified that we’d never get this. Our love story didn’t end in tragedy.
Jude smiles the second he notices the tears gathering in my eyes.
“Hey,” he murmurs softly.
I shake my head, laughing through the emotion lodged in my throat. “I just love you.”
The look that crosses his face is what makes me cry.
His arms tighten around my waist before he kisses me again, and while our song drifts through the house around us, I realize that the memories of our journey don’t hurt anymore.
Later that night, we end up tangled together beneath the blankets while rain pours outside. Nova climbs onto the bed halfway through the night and wedges herself directly between us. Jude groans sleepily when she kicks him in the ribs.
“She’s literally built like a horse.”
Nova ignores him, licking at his jaw before curling against his chest.
I laugh into the dark while Jude wraps one arm around both of us. And sometimes, in moments like these, I study him quietly while he sleeps beside me. The healed scar near his shoulder. The bruising and blood long gone now. The exhaustion no longer haunting his beautiful face.
There are still nights when he wakes abruptly from nightmares with panic, eyes unfocused and distant, while his body remembers things his mind wishes it couldn’t. But now he lets me hold him through it instead of disappearing into himself completely. And when my own nightmares drag me awake, shaking and gasping beside him, he gathers me against his chest and sings under his breath. He’ll do it until my anxiety medication begins pulling me back down from panic.
