Текст книги "Swelter"

Автор книги: Nina G. Jones

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 16 страниц)

I tried not to tense up, but I was uncomfortable. Of course, it wasn't because I was nervous about touching Bobby. I had known him for so long that awkwardness, even after his hiatus, wasn't a thing. It was because I wanted him to touch me.

“Having fun?” he asked.

I beamed. “Lots. It's been a long time since I've done anything like this.”

“You're glowing.”

“It's sweat,” I replied.

“Nah, I think it's something else.”

I thought about asking about the letters Willis mentioned, but I didn't want to open that door in the club. The night was going so well, just pretending like we were in some sort of time capsule, where he didn't leave the wedding and vanish for seven years. My alternate reality was something I did not want to disrupt. Because it was exactly how I'd imagined it might be. It wouldn't last once we left, so I wanted to savor every moment.

I chuckled wistfully to myself.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Oh it's just, you've done so much living, seen so much, and this casual night for you, I might as well have taken a plane to Tahiti.”

“I'd rather be here right now than any place in the world. And there's still time to do everything you ever wanted to do Lil.” Maybe he was right, but it felt too late. It felt too late seven years ago.

At first, the ride back was quiet. We were spent, and the roads were dark again. No bright lights. No buzzing of city streets. No interesting people from all walks of life. Just dark stretches of road ahead. But I wanted to know why Bobby brought me all the way to Chicago. Yes, I knew it was to take me out of my neighborhood, remind me of the carefree fun I used to have, but I felt like he was trying to tell me a story without saying the words.

“Tell me about Curtis” I requested sleepily.

Bobby sighed faintly, as if part of him was relieved I asked and part of him dreaded the inevitable discussion. “Well, like Will said, we were stationed together. And man he was something else. The kind of person you couldn't stay mad at, even when he drove you nuts,” he chuckled.

“I know a little something about that,” I grinned.

“I guess you do,” Bobby acquiesced. “We used to talk about what we'd do when we got back. He was going to marry his girl. And I told him I had a girl back home, too,” he confessed.

“Will told me he knew who I was,” I disclosed, looking down.

Bobby nodded, recognizing I knew at least part of the story. “You know, when you're in that state—hungry, tired, weak, broken—you need something to get you through it. Some sort of beacon, because it gets so dark, Lil. A darkness you don't even know exists in you comes out.”

I swallowed back the tears. I wanted to pull over the pickup and hold him, but I knew it wasn't right.

“Sometimes, when it was quiet enough, I would think about that night. I'd relive it. And it would take me to the best moment of my life. And I'd just replay it whenever I wanted to leave but I couldn't. It allowed me to go someplace good, somewhere safe and happy. So, I told Curtis that I had a girl named Lilly waiting at home for me. Even if I knew I could never live that fantasy, even if I knew it meant that one day I would come back to find you living a happy life with my brother and your kids. I still wanted to come back to you.”

I felt guilt I couldn't assign to a single act. Guilt for not being there for Bobby when he finally showed up. Guilt for assuming he had forgotten me. Guilt for the feelings that stirred in me all night in the presence of my husband's brother.

“So, um . . .” Bobby let out a drawn breath before continuing. “Listen, I didn't tell Rory this because I'm back and I don't think there's a point in rehashing. But, um, well, a little over a week before being shot, our aircraft got shot down in South Korea. We were captured and taken to a POW camp. At first, it was what you'd expect. It was hell, but we were fed, at least a little, and given water. But a few days in, some of us were transferred to Waegwan, known as Hill 303.”

I covered my mouth in shock. He had almost flippantly described his last days in the war to Rory while I listened. Just another adventure to tack to his long list. This version was not the watered down story he had told Rory over the kitchen table.

“Lil, there weren't any rules there. Yeah, wars have rules, but you get people pointing guns and missiles at each other and the rules break down. They starved us and beat us. Sometimes they would just shoot a random prisoner.”

I gasped under my breath.

“Anyway, we were there for a few days when the first and second battalions came in to save us. There were hours of battling. As the troops closed in on us, they started frantically rounding up prisoners on the hill, executing as many as they could before capture. They lined us up all in this long line and someone went one by one, down the line, shooting us in the back of the head. I thought we were done.”

I watched his eyes as they viewed a scene from the past as vividly as if it was happening again.

“And as the executor neared us, Curtis whispered two things to me.”

Bobby stopped. He went dead silent. The silence carried for a minute. I helped him carry it by not saying a word, not moving an inch. Bobby was fun. Bobby was carefree. To see him like this . . . nothing crushed my heart like watching him fight back the glistening in his eyes.

Finally, I placed my hand on his knee. “You don't have to tell me.”

He took a deep, shaky breath. “No, I need to.” He nodded, prepping himself to continue. “He said, 'tell my brother and my girl I love them, and get home to your girl.'“

Those words, like a stealth punch to the chest, took my breath away.

“They shot him. And then they pointed the gun at me. And some American soldier shot the executor. His gun went off and got me in the shoulder. And I survived. Me and just a handful of others.”

My chest grew tight as I realized how close my hunch that he had died had been to reality. I had converted my love to hate, because it was so much easier to grieve him that way. It was a version of the way I had always dealt with Bobby, veiling my confused feelings towards him with defensiveness. I kept telling myself somehow Bobby being dead was better. That it made my life more bearable. And I hated myself for ever convincing myself of that.

“Sometimes I still can't believe it. Sometimes I wake up and I feel myself to make sure I'm still here. How is it that he's gone, but I'm still here? He was right there . . .” Bobby’s voice trailed off in genuine disbelief.

“I'm so sorry about Curtis. He sounded like an amazing person.”

“You would have loved him. You would have wanted to strangle him.”

We both laughed sadly.

“I know it's kooky, what I did. Telling myself some bullshit fantasy like a little kid. But I should have died in that camp. And I think it worked, writing to you, thinking about coming back to you. Even if it was just to see you again for a day. Even if I knew nothing could come of seeing you again.

Finally, the tears I refused to shed in front of him, the tears of relief and regret, poured from my eyes. “I said you should have stayed dead. I didn't mean it, Bobby. I'm so sorry. I never meant it. That was so cruel of me.”

“I know you didn’t.” His hand caressed my hand resting on his lap.

“I'm so happy you're back.” I clutched the hand on top of mine, lifting it to my face and sobbed into it. “I thought you were dead. All these years . . .”

Bobby stole several brief glances at me, trying to maintain his eyes on the road. “Hey. Hey,” he said sympathetically. He pulled his hand from my grasp and propped up my chin. “You got me through it. Okay?”

I nodded. Maybe this could be enough. Maybe we could be best friends. Bobby was prepared to be content to see me again, even if meant seeing me with someone else, unlike the first time around when he left. If he could put those emotions aside, then I could, too.

“You should rest up,” he said, reaching to the back of the cab for a jacket and passing it to me. I wrapped myself in his scent, the closest I could allow myself to linger in his embrace. I didn't care how hot it was. Then, I dozed off.

I woke up to Bobby gently shaking me. “Wake up. I have one more surprise,” he said.

I pulled myself out of my slumber and the cocoon of his jacket.

“Where are we?” I asked, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. My vision followed the landscape illuminated by the headlights and in a second I realized where we were—a sight ingrained into my mind no matter how long it had been since my last visit. It was the Lightlys' lake house. The place I spent long summer days swimming and running and climbing with the boys.

The place I married Rory and the last place I saw Bobby before he left.

Seven years earlier

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The sound of Mrs. Lightly's grandfather clock carried down the hall. It didn't sound like the mere announcement of the passage of time, but rather a countdown towards something inevitable.

Tomorrow I would marry Rory. Rory, the handsome, sweet boy I had known since as long as I could remember. The nice brother. The one who did all the right things. I got the good Lightly. The one who was studious and ambitious. The responsible one. I was the luckiest girl in town, they all said. I loved him. I did. But then why was I up the night before my wedding, nursing a deep ache?

Cold feet was normal of course. It was just pre-wedding jitters.

After working out those last minute wedding details with my mother and sister, I spent the rest of my time with my cousins and a few girlfriends who arrived later that afternoon. Rory stayed with Bobby and his cousins and friends. After we were all tired from the day’s activities and the sun baking our skin, the boys and girls retreated to separate cabins. I should have been utterly exhausted, but after lying for what felt like an hour, I grew too restless. I tiptoed out of my room, barefoot in my thin white nightgown, and stepped out into the night air. A gentle breeze lifted my gown, making the warm night balmier than the temperature suggested. I planned on sitting at the dock to stare at the moon. Out here in the country, it looked so huge, almost like a painting. The sky was particularly clear on this night, and already I could see the sparkling silver glinting off the gentle ripples of the black waters. That's when I noticed a single light on in the boat house. It had an attic that had been converted to a small lounge room, with a beat-up couch and a couple of small tables. Just a place people could take a break from the water without walking all the way back to the houses.

I gravitated to the light, just like all the creatures do, my feet sinking into the cool earth with each step. I didn't know who was in there. I wasn't even sure if it would be appropriate seeing as my nightgown was not proper attire for most eyes. But my feet continued, marching me towards the light.

I crept up the creaky, narrow staircase.

“Who's there?” a voice called out. I knew who it was, and the dull ache grew sharper.

“It's me,” I called out, reaching the top of the staircase and crouching to pass the short threshold. Bobby was sitting on the couch shirtless, facing a circular window with views of the lake. He kept his back to me.

“Oh, hey.”

Next to him was a bottle of Jack, a quarter of the way through. “Really, Bobby? Jack? Have you been sober at all today?”

“I'll be fine tomorrow,” he scoffed.

“Yeah, I know. You better be.”

I plopped down behind him so that his back still faced me as he sat on the edge of the sofa. “Can't sleep?”

“No. You?”

“No.”

He had been his usual self earlier that day, flirting, jesting, being effortlessly fun. But now he was quiet. One of his fits.

“I'm surprised you haven't been like a fox in a chicken coop going after the hens in the girl's cabin,” I ribbed.

He looked at me out the corner of his eye before unscrewing the cap and taking a swig. “Nope.”

“Well, then is it because your brother is marrying your mortal enemy?” Usually I'd let him brood, sit there with him until he emerged from the quiet. But tonight, I needed to know why. Something in my gut pushed me to pry. Hints of that something escaped through our time in the woods. But they were so vague and fleeting, like a vapor, I wondered if I had imagined them or if they were amplified by the herb that had since faded from my system.

“Maybe,” he shrugged.

“Oh, I'm sorry are you being broody, Bobby?” I taunted in a baby voice, trying to get back to the safe, familiar, childlike way we related to one another.

“Shut up.” He shoved me halfheartedly with his shoulder.

“So when's Bobby Lightly going to get married? You have, what? Two years left in college after taking a year off. Meet anyone special?”

“Yeah, but she's off limits,” he said, uncharacteristically somber.

“Oh.” I was afraid to ask. It was the second time I heard him make such a comment that day, the first being in the woods when I told him he could have any girl. Not any girl, he said.

Sitting at an angle behind Bobby, he couldn't see my eyes wandering along his back. Tanned from summers in the sun, light freckles peppering shoulders that grew muscled over the past couple of years. His hair mussed up, brown with flecks of summer gold, always a little longer than Rory's. He smelled of the sun. Of his pillows when we used to take naps together or use them as weapons against each other. Of the lake and grass.

“You know, I don't hate you, Lil,” he confessed.

“I know,” I replied nonchalantly. “How could anyone?” I pouted, trying to make light of the tense tone he had taken.

“I take that back,” he added, taking another sip.

“Bobby, really, don't get too drunk.”

“I'm not even a little drunk, Lil.” Bobby did hold his liquor well and seemed unfazed, but it wasn't like him to drink alone like this and I wondered why.

“Hey, wanna go in the lake?” I perked up.

He turned to look at me slowly, a look of mischief in his eyes. We'd snuck down to the lake in the middle of the night hundreds of times, usually with Rory. The rules were always the same. No clothes. No lights. Just the moon.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

The Lightlys' land had two docks. One was further from the houses, and we used it for the late night dips. Bobby and I ran along the grass, shedding our garments and twirling them in the air as we approached the dock. We dropped our clothes and cannonballed in.

We hissed and hooted as our hot, sweaty skin acclimated to the cold lake water. We splashed. We spit water fountains at each other, and then we were quiet for a while, wading in the effervescent still of a moonlit lake.

I broke the silence. “I think this might be my most favorite place in the world.”

“You've hardly been anywhere, Lil,” Bobby scoffed.

“Well, I'm going to travel plenty once things settle, but I still think there will be no place like this. Even now, after graduating college, I think the happiest memories of your childhood are the happiest ever. I don't think you can reach that level as an adult.”

“That's awfully pessimistic.”

“No . . . I'm not saying you can't be happy as an adult. I just think it gets tainted. There's always something to think about. Something to worry about.”

“I guess, but I'm still gonna strive for it. I hope my happiest moment hasn't happened yet. Technically yours should be tomorrow.”

I couldn't even pretend that would be the case. Marrying Rory was a good thing. I was excited. But that sense of a dream coming true—no, it wasn't there. I kept telling myself as I got closer the feeling would happen as it became more real. Even that afternoon, as I answered last minute questions about the wedding, I hoped that nervous excitement that laid latent and would rise to the surface once the noise had settled. But here I was, hours away, surrounded by quiet, and that feeling that my heart would burst with joy hadn't come. In fact, something unsettling had surfaced.

“I'm going in,” I declared, avoiding Bobby's statement.

I pulled myself up, noticing the moon was unusually bright when I caught Bobby's eyes on my naked body. He looked away quickly and I pretended not to notice. And yet, I didn't have that icky feeling you should have when someone who seems like a sibling catches you nude. I liked that he wanted to see more than just a dark outline.

I hadn't messed with Bobby enough, and I seemed to be pulling him out of his funk, so after I slipped my gown over my wet body, I picked up his shorts.

“Yoohoo!” I teased, dangling them in the air.

“Lil! Don't you dare.”

I took off running back to the boathouse, which was a ways away, but I had a good head start as Bobby had to climb out of the water.

I huffed and puffed up the stairs, ducking just in time to clear the threshold. His footsteps crashed on the old wooden steps and then there was a loud thud as he banged his forehead into the door frame.

“Oh my god!” I started laughing so hard, I could barely breathe. “Are you—” But I couldn't get the words out to ask if he was okay. Tears leaked from my eyes and my stomach hurt, but it was a good pain. The kind of good pain Bobby made me feel.

He tried to feign anger, but he laughed, too. He had his hands cupping his nether regions, but lurked close enough to go for a sharp grab at his shorts. I barely maintained my grasp as he reached around me, tangling himself around my wet body to pull the shorts away. I twirled to untangle myself and smacked into his chest, face to face with him.

That's when he kissed me.

He dipped down and planted his lips against mine. I reared back.

“Oh shit. Fuck. Fuck. I'm sorry,” Bobby apologized, throwing his hands up, revealing his happiness down below. “Oh shit,” he cursed, covering himself with his shorts. “Lil—Fuck.”

But this was it. This was the thing that stirred me. Like a revelation, I realized at that moment, that simple kiss felt like nothing I had ever felt with Rory. That kiss busted me wide open and the ache had found a way to escape and make room for a type of bliss I had never felt before. I wanted more of that feeling.

“No,” I commanded in a hushed tone, stepping closer. “Don't stop,” I begged through a whisper.

I watched his eyes wander my body in contemplation. My wet hair trailing down my shoulders and back, my nipples taut through the clingy transparent nightgown. We stood there wet and dripping, realizing we both had the same shameful secret.

“I can't,” he muttered, his hooded eyes telling another truth. Bobby stepped in, scooping down for his lips to meet mine, and this was what was missing. It was like there was a universe I didn't know existed that just flung open its doors to me.

My heart pounded with ecstatic energy as he dropped the shorts from his hands and wrapped his arms around me. His long naked body pressed against the airy moist cotton of my nightgown. I had always seen Bobby as a boy, until this moment, until I realized what was plainly in front of me all this time: That Bobby wasn't a boy anymore. And I wasn't a girl.

This was why we had so much difficultly navigating our relationship in our newfound adulthood. Because the space between immature teasing and detached adult politeness was this unthinkable act, this forbidden desire.

Bobby’s hand wandered up my waist and over my breast, shielded by the flimsy nightgown, as he cupped it softly in his hand, rubbing the firm nipple under him thumb. His lips swept down my neck and collarbone until he met his hand. Bobby looked up at me one last time, a chance for both of us to realize the mistake we were making, and I threaded my fingers through his hair, bidding him to continue.

He yanked down the side of my nightgown, exposing my hardened nipple and rubbed his soft lips on its tip. I whimpered, titling my hips towards him, wanting my body to join his without question.

I had always wondered how animals knew what to do without being told. Now I understood. When the body wanted it, it pleaded for it. Instinct. Bobby's lips exploring my damp skin felt as natural as the cool lake at night. Like the late breeze twisting under my nightgown. I didn't realize how forced everything was with Rory until Bobby clutched me in his arms. We joined like the ocean and the sun at the horizon. They met every evening, giving birth to the beauty of dusk, not because they were expected to, but because it was their destiny.

I didn't think. I couldn't think. That's the only way I could give myself what I needed.

“Lil . . .” Bobby breathed against my temple, unable to finish.

I understood, so much was changing so quickly, and the emotions that coursed through us were so much more than could be quantified in simple phrases.

Bobby slid his hands down to my behind as he lifted me onto a rickety table, seating me on it. Our mouths smashed together and I relished the taste of his lips, his tongue. As he leaned into me, Bobby's hardness pressed against me, threatening to change everything.

I came up for air just for a second, just to look at Bobby through this new lens. Bobby was a beautiful boy, and it was beyond good looks. He radiated there in front of me. I pretended like I wasn't like everyone else who wanted to be close to Bobby. But I didn't just want to revel in that light. I wanted it inside of me so that I could shine back on him.

I reached down and gripped Bobby's display of desire in my hands; his eyes rolled up as I massaged him.

“I want you,” I murmured in his ear as I buried my face into the heat of his neck.

“I've always wanted you,” Bobby murmured back, gripping my face in his hands, kissing me with such fierceness, I could hardly breathe. I knew what the ferocity of that kiss meant, and I felt it, too. And I was scared, but it only made it that much sweeter. To be scared. Alone. With him.

He peeled down the rest of my nightgown, exposing my top half as I sat in front of him. I watched him take in the sight of me, like he had laid eyes on the most exquisite thing, like he couldn't believe this was real. Like a man who had spent his life looking for a treasure and finally had it in his clutches. I felt the same way looking at his naked body: shining, long, lean limbs with narrow muscles that ridged along his torso and arms.

I wrapped my legs around Bobby as he suckled the swelling peaks of my breasts and nipped along my collarbone, forcing me to stifle moans into his thick, roguish hair.

Bobby stood up and tried to look into my eyes. But our glares were too intense, those eyes that looked back had too much history; we couldn't hold the gaze for too long without shying away. He bit his lip as he studied his fingertips, trailing along my inner thighs, gently prying my legs open. He pushed the gown up, so that it had been reduced to merely a waistband. His fingers traveled up between my thighs, exploring the tender flesh. A breathy gasp escaped my lips as his simple touch robbed my lungs of air. I wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling him closer, beckoning him to take his liberties.

Bobby slid one finger in me, then two, as I mewed his name. So many times before I had called out his name, but never like this. This was a new language we had invented.

I had longed so much for a touch I didn't even allow myself to covet. So strong was the urge that I felt myself shudder, an unfamiliar sensation taking over. I quivered tensely, like a guitar string being pulled taut. My breaths shortened as I let out a faint cry. But Bobby stopped as if he knew what was coming. The lingering tingles made me certain of the decision my body had already made. I wanted it all from Bobby. Every last drop.

He pressed his nose against mine. The muscles underneath my grip were thick with tension. He was fighting. Fighting nature. Fighting inevitability. Fighting destiny. Those were battles no man could win.

“I want to,” I pled. “I need to feel you inside of me.”

Again, I wrapped my fingers around his girth, sliding its head against the slickness that had formed from his touch.

“But, I've never done this,” I confessed.

Rory and I had officially dated for a year. Before that we had been on and off. But all along, while we had done other things, I wanted to save my virtue. I thought it was for my wedding night, but I realized that was never the purpose.

Doubt rushed into Bobby's eyes. “Lil, this is—”

“I want it to be you,” I begged, looking into those languid eyes, the same color as the countless sunsets we had watched together on the lake “I need it to be you, Bobby.”

“Lil...” His voice wavered through shaky breaths. “I need you to understand. This . . . that this . . .” He pressed his pillowy lips to mine and muttered, “I love you.” The words blew against my lips like the warm night breeze.

“I love you,” I whispered back without hesitation.

Bobby laid his forehead against mine. The quiet attic was filled with the rhythm of his heavy breaths. “Okay,” he gently nodded. “Okay.”

Bobby pushed a few locks of damp hair out of my face. Then his hand slid down to mine, guiding me to the couch. My nightgown slipped to the floor as I stepped out of it and followed him. He paused to take one long look at my naked body, illuminated by the timid light of the single lamp in the room. There was no night sky to shield me this time. And his glare didn't stop at the curves and slopes of my tanned skin. He looked right inside of me.

Bobby laid me down on the sofa and rested his body atop mine. There was a comfort in his weight against me, even in the stifling heat of this tiny attic. Our breaths syncopated against the creaking of the old furniture, creating a music of our own.

We moved tentatively, heavy with the burden of the choice we made. Like we were dipped in warm golden honey, our bodies were heavy, slow, sweet.

I began to tremble nervously and it embarrassed me. I had always been a little sharp with my attitude, a little braver than most girls. Especially with Bobby. But here, lying under him, my body shook against my will.

Bobby didn't acknowledge it. He knew I never liked pointing out my weaknesses.

“I'm going to get you ready,” he rasped reassuringly.

His full lips made a path down my neck, to the shimmering valley of my chest. The concave slope of my stomach, glittering with tiny beads of sweat. The little bone on my hip. The delicate curve of my inner thigh. He opened my legs up and continued his voyage to the sensitive skin between my legs. Never rushing. Never pushing. He waited for the trembling to subside, caressing the forbidden fruit with his lips. His warm, patient breaths quelled the fear oscillating on my skin, and then his tongue slipped past the soft, wet flesh. Into me. I tugged on his sun-kissed brown locks, my legs wrapping around his shoulders.

I had never felt this before. Rory had played with me down there, but this wasn't playing. This was mastery. This was craft.

Bobby's warm mouth drank me up like wine as his hands gripped the suppleness of my thighs.

I couldn't last long like this. Not with Bobby’s lips kissing the slick skin, not with his tongue mapping ecstasy. I pulled his hair as my entire body constricted and then shattered into millions of pieces. Bobby had the presence of mind to reach up and cover my mouth, but my cries of his name reached past his efforts. I quaked and quivered under a contrasting explosion of sensations. If they could all be seen, I would mimic a star ending its life. But instead, my eyes moistened from the flood escaping me. Each tear a tiny little fragment of stardust.

I was broken, melted, reduced. And in that there was relief. I didn't have to be put together. Be the Lilly who loved the brother of the man she was about to marry. I was just scattered parts of myself.

Bobby rose back on top of me while I was still trying to reassemble from the dismantling. Seeing him there, that face, so perfect that it had confused me for so many years, brought my focus back.

I placed my hand on his cheek.

“Now you,” I smiled.

Bobby's length lingered over my belly as he kissed me again, sweetly, trying to slow down the moment for us. He burrowed his face into my neck as he pushed into me, patiently. It hurt, but the pain was always good with Bobby.

I gasped, and whenever he stopped out of concern, I beckoned him to keep going, to fill me.

“You're so tight Lil,” he groaned in my ear, before he was even all the way.

I dug my fingers into his back as he pressed along, inch by inch, until he was all the way inside of me, taking deep breaths to cope with the tension of his circumference inside of me.

Bobby pulled out slowly, then in, then out. Each thrust allowed my body to acquiesce to him.

“Oh god,” Bobby moaned into my ear, from somewhere deep inside. “You're so wet. Oh god,” he pleaded. “Lil, I should stop. I should pull out.”

I knew what he meant. He was close to the edge and he was inside of me, but I wanted him in me. This might be our only time and I wanted it to be complete.

“No, Bobby. Don't stop,” I assured him. “It feels so good. Keep going.”

“Lil.” His groan, deep and gravelly, tickled the curve of my ear. “Oh Lil, you feel so good . . . so fucking good.” I could feel a shift in his tone and the way his body tensed, just like I had when his mouth was on me, readying me for him.

Bobby’s hips found a rhythm, like a turbulent wake on a placid lake. The husky moans escaping his throat grew hollow as he tightened further inside of me. His eyes rolled up and he clenched the sofa just above my head, reciting my name through gritted teeth, marking me, taking the gift I had saved for him all this time, before collapsing onto me.