hands from their stowed away position. “I don’t think you get me, Maggie.”
“No, but you seem to have me all figured out, don’t you?”
I push past him with my shoulder to continue down the street. My house gets larger and larger with each step and Ran’s outline slips further and further away with every exasperated movement forward. And it’s an unnerving feeling when the realization dawns that though I should be more at ease the closer I get toward home, the opposite occurs because my house is filled with memories of abandonment, diagnoses of illness, and fears for the future. I’m not living in that house. I’m existing.
As the distance between me and my physical home shortens, the ache for Ran becomes so much stronger, so much more immediate, like he’s somehow become home for me instead. But he hasn’t. Home is supposed to be safe, and nothing about Ran is safe. Though I suppose nothing about the home that stands in front of me is, either.
Frustrated from the irrational pull toward Ran and the absurd repelling sensation from this structure ahead of me, I lock my legs in place, not knowing where to go, where to turn, or what to do. I stand there, unmoving, the wind biting at my cheeks, freezing the tears that spill down them like icicles on my skin.
“Damn it, Maggie.” Ran jogs up to me and seizes me roughly from behind. I want to throw him off—to shove him away—but I cave and press into his chest, my shoulder blades pinned against him, my head hung low, the sobs lifting it up and down as my shoulders tremble with that same helpless reaction. “Damn it,” he whispers against my cheek. “I hate what I’m doing to you.”
I swallow all of my emotion in one bitter gulp. “I hate it, too.”
I feel each rush of air hot on my skin, the variation in temperature so evident from standing out here in the winter cold. Ran’s chest rises and falls rapidly against my back. He slouches over me and presses his mouth just along my jaw, skating and brushing his lips hesitantly over my skin, his breath shaky and unsteady as it slips in and out of him.
It’s as though a swarm of butterflies releases in my gut and they flutter and crash against my ribcage when his mouth lingers there, just under my earlobe, making his fast breathing more audible. With slow, deliberate movement he brings his fingers up to my scarf to peel it down to allow more room for his mouth along the slope of my neck. My heart flickers in my chest as his hand stays there, in the crook of space between the base of my jaw and my ear, and he rubs his fingers over my skin. A soft noise escapes from low in his throat.
“Maggie,” he breathes against me. “I’m not trying to hurt you.” He presses his lips under my ear again and my insides flinch with an unfamiliar desire I’ve never experienced with anyone else before. “I promised I’d help you heal.” His mouth creeps closer. “I’m trying to help you heal.”
My eyes close unwillingly, pushing out another tear that slides down my cheek. I whisper, “I know.”
Ran’s mouth meets my skin and his lips trace lightly all the way onto my neck, trailing up and down the curve of it, kissing away the stream of emotion that trickled there moments earlier. I feel each distinct point of contact that his open mouth makes not just on my skin, but in the pit of my stomach. “Ran,” I murmur, pressing my neck toward him, sighing.
“I’m sorry,” he mutters, the heat from his lips warming my skin. “I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through, for all of the hurt that you have.” My chest feels tight under his other arm that’s bound across it. “I’m sorry that I’m dragging you back through it all over again. I’m sorry it has to happen like this.” He presses light pecks up and down my neck. “I’m sorry, Maggie. I’m. So. Sorry.”
“I’m not.” A jolt of electricity blazes through me and I flip around in his arms and push into him. “I’m not sorry, Ran.” I coil my fingers around his neck, interlocking each one, and lure his face toward mine. His tortured eyes examine me—scan every inch of my face—looking for clarification. “I’m not sorry. For any of it.”
Bringing my face toward his, I stroke his cheek with my fingers