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What does a piece of property really matter…
I close my eyes and think about the time it snowed for weeks and weeks, and we were doing everything we could just to survive. How a single piece of cloth burning in the stove was the difference between life and death. The ever-present whisper, the promise of warmth at the end of the clearing.
Lavender and a warm breeze caresses my cheek, the stairway warping and drifting…
When was the last time I slept? Or the last time I ate? Tears cloud my eyes, and I slump against the unbudging door, the fight bleeding from me. What use is there in raging or pleading? He has made his choice painfully clear.
I'm nothing. Less than nothing. With nobody left to remember me… nobody left to care.
… Suddenly, I'm roused from an alcohol-induced fog as the door gives way. With a yelp, I topple backward into the study, flailing clumsily, and before I can get my bearings, strong arms envelop me, pulling me against a firm, familiar chest. Karul. Overwhelmed, I can only clutch weakly at his tunic.
"Don't leave me, Jasmine," he rasps, his voice thick with emotion. "Please, don't ever leave me. Can you promise me that?"
I freeze, scarcely daring to believe this is real. After weeks of distance and silence, is he truly here holding me and pleading for me to stay? Joy pierces the fog of drink and despair. He said my name - not another's, but mine. And the raw need in his voice tells me that somehow, beneath the ice, his feelings have remained untouched.
“I won't be able to stand it. Understand?” He holds my cheeks between shaking hands, imploring deeply.
At last, I melt against him, fresh tears spilling onto his chest. I cling to him like an anchor, my harbor in the storm. "Yes," I whisper fervently. "I promise I will never leave you. I am yours in this life and the next."
22
KARUL
Sunlight shines through the window, waking me from a deep sleep in the softness of Jasmine's bed. I'm in no hurry to leave. Instead, I stay and watch as Jasmine's chest rises and falls with the rhythm of deep sleep.
“So precious,” I murmur as my chest aches still.
My eyes trace the outline of her face, her lips slightly parted. I'm content to stay here and watch her from the sanctuary of her bed.
Memories of last night wash over me in fragmented waves – the vulnerability in my voice as I pleaded with her, "Please, don't ever leave me." It was a moment of raw desperation, an admission I'd been fighting against for days.
I've tried to lose myself in distractions, to deny the truth that gnaws at my heart. But as I lie here, the golden rays of sunlight caressing her skin, the truth is undeniable: I have fallen in love with Jasmine Hail.
My thoughts drift to yesterday as I stood before Isa’s grave, the cold marble offering no solace. Yet, as I spoke of Jasmine, something shifted within me.
It was as if telling Isa about the woman who now lays beside me was granting me permission to let go. The burden of guilt that had shackled my heart began to dissolve. After all this time, my head feels clearer than it has in years.
Jasmine stirs with a sleepy moan, her lashes fluttering as she awakens. Her eyes, a mirror to her soul, find mine, and I'm drawn into their depths.
"Good morning," she whispers, her voice sweet and sleepy.
"Good morning," I reply, barely above a breath.
The air around us seems charged with an energy that hums through my veins. My gaze lingers on her lips, remembering the taste of her kiss, the promise of what's to come.
Before falling asleep last night, we laid here in her bed and shared a short, sweet kiss before just sleeping through the night next to one another. The feelings within me border on ecstatic excitement in what I have just admitted to myself.
I don't want to move. Not until I memorize every inch of her face, every curve of her body. She turns towards me ever so slightly, drawing me deeper into those captivating eyes. Her lips are soft and inviting, begging for another kiss. But instead of leaning in, I pull back to give her space.
Jasmine strokes my cheek with feather-like fingers before sitting up slowly and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. Her movements are fluid and graceful; they remind me of a dancer rehearsing an intricate routine. She stretches languidly, her back arching in a way that makes me stifle a growl low in my throat.
Without another thought, I close the distance between us, pulling her to me and pressing my lips to hers. She responds instantly, her fervor matching mine, and we're lost in the exploration of each other.
Her skin is a canvas under my fingertips, and I worship every part of her with a reverence born of new-found freedom and longing. As our passion builds, I descend, intent on tasting her essence, on giving her the adoration she deserves. And as I do, the last vestiges of my past fade into insignificance, replaced by the reality of Jasmine.
Her sleepy smile against my lips is like the first warm ray of dawn piercing through the night’s veil. I drink in the sight of her. her lips pull me like a siren's call. I lean closer, captivated by their sweetness, and press my mouth to hers again. The kiss deepens as she responds with a fervor that mirrors my own rising passions. We lose ourselves in each other, and I worship every part of her, reveling in the connection that binds us beyond flesh and bone.
My hand cups her face as our lips press together in a kiss that is hungry with longing. Her tongue darts out, tracing the seam of my lips, and I part them eagerly, allowing her inside.
