Dear Justin,

I have been staring at these words for the past two hours and have yet to come up with anything more to add. Well, that’s technically not true. It took some time to schedule my flight, departing at seven-forty-five a.m. out of Houston Intercontinental Airport. When the woman asked my destination I was silent. Where was I going to go? What was I going to do? I felt so lost, just sitting there on the couch in my beautiful suite that Justin got for us, our sanctuary. I fought tears as I told her Morgantown, West Virginia. When you don’t know where to go, you go home, right? Isn’t this what normal people do?

I had sat there for awhile, just staring off into space and trying to get my head on straight, trying to resist the urge to run downstairs and throw myself into his arms and ask him to make it go away. I can’t think like that now. I’d spent the past three months forcing myself not to think like that and I’d be damned if I stopped now.

So I shut down. I closed my heart and I walked into the bedroom, fully prepared to sit down at the desk and write this note. But standing in the doorway, seeing the bed where we’d – I shook my head – now neatly made with crisp white sheets as if nothing had ever happened, I felt my resolve crack. But it couldn’t crack. I could not break. Not anymore. I’d done enough of that over the past three months.

I had sat down at the little writing desk, tucked neatly in the corner overlooking the bed, and picked up a pen, fully prepared to begin, but I kept getting distracted, looking around the room and musing, remembering.

The first time I saw him, all sullen faced and petulant, but cute and boyish as he always is no matter what. The way he would vie for my attention, how he’d sing or crack jokes, trying to impress me, his smile wide and beaming when I would praise him. The way he would sit close to me, touching me every chance he got, innocently brushing his hand against mine, shoulder bumping against me seemingly by accident. And that was before we even started this thing. After that first time – I swallow hard – it was like someone switched on the light. Like you know how you can be concentrating on something and it slowly starts to get dark and you don’t realize it really until someone comes in and asks why the hell you’re sitting in the dark and they flip the light on? That’s what Justin was for me. And I hate that I’m just now realizing this.

I stood up and walked around, looking at things and putting off the inevitable. I had checked my bags, making sure I had everything even though I’d never unpacked. I changed into my pajamas and sat on the end of the bed but couldn’t do that for long, be on that bed where we had ­– I cringe – and it was enough to get me to sit down at the desk and begin to write.

Dear Justin,

This is as far as I’ve gotten. I glance at the clock for the umpteenth time and it’s six hours until my flight. Six hours until I’m gone and out of his life forever. This is good, I try and tell myself as the only words on the page blur over. This is the push I’ve been looking for all summer long. Something is finally forcing me to let him go. I blink and two tear drops splash onto the paper, leaving two wet dots on the page and I curse, crumpling it up and starting afresh. Maybe I was being too formal initially. Maybe that’s the problem.

Jus,

Three letters. Come on, Skylar, get it together. I take a deep breath and steel myself, bringing the pen down and writing.

I’m sorry

 Because, really I am. I’m sorry for this entire situation. I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted all this time. I’m sorry for not thanking God for every moment I had with him. I’m sorry for pushing him away and hurting his feelings. I’m sorry that we’ll never be more than a summer fling in tousled sheets in little hotel rooms all over the country. I’m sorry that all I can do is write him a fucking letter. He deserves better. I owe him more. But if there is any way in hell I’m going to be able to get on that plane in six hours this is what I have to do.

I stare hard at the paper, every moment with him running through my mind. The stolen glances, the secret smiles, and yes and the sex but more so the quiet moment afterward when he was dozing off and his breathing had just slowed down and his head was on my shoulder or my cheek was resting against his chest. Those are the moments I’m going to remember for the rest of my life. I nearly jump out of my skin when I hear the door open and then slam shut, shaking the walls with the force of it.

“SKYLAR!”

I’m frozen in my seat, wide eyed because in all the time that I’ve known Justin I have never heard his voice sound the way it just did when he bellowed my name from the next room. So much more than anger, so much more than hurt, it’s raw and gruff and when he tears into the room the look on his face cannot even be described.

“What, so you were just gonna fuckin up and leave without telling me?” he asks, his eyes hard and unforgiving, rage emanating off of him like an aura.

I blink at him, shocked. “Who told you I was leaving?”

“Who do you fucking think?” he replies condescendingly and I let my head fall back.

“Tiny,” I mutter to myself. “Of fucking course.”

I can’t talk with him about this. This isn’t something we can discuss and that he can talk me out of. It’s something that has to be done. I can’t let him charm me. I can’t let him smile and bite his lip and pull me into bed. This is how it has to be. I don’t have a choice. But he’ll beg and plead anyway, and I’ll get to be the bitch one last time. It’s a fitting end for us really.

“How’d you get in here?” I ask, rising from my chair, putting off the inevitable fight for just a few more moments.

“I asked you a fucking question, Skylar,” he says, stepping into the room and it fills with his rage and the effect is suffocating.

He looks as if he could kill, as if he could break everything in the room with his bare hands as he strides up to me and I’m glad to have the desk between us. My entire body is tense and I fight the urge back away. I deserve this. He has a right to be angry. But I can’t do this right now. It’s selfish and I know that, but if I’m going to leave, I can’t see him right now. I can’t be near him. He needs to go.

“You don’t have a key-”

He rolls his eyes. “I told the girl at the front desk to give me one.”

“And she just gave it to you?”

He snorts. “I charmed you outta your panties I’m pretty sure I can charm the desk girl into giving me a fucking room key.”

My nails bite into my palms but I don’t retort, just glare at him and we stare at each other for a moment. His chest is heaving underneath his thin tank top, fire in his blue eyes, his jaw locked. His hands are fisted at his sides, causing his biceps to bulge and the veins in his forearms to stand out. He looks like an angel that’s fighting his way out of heaven but I can’t think that way anymore. No, I have to push all this down. If it hurts him, if it kills me, this has to end tonight.

“This is how it is, Sky?” he asks, his eyes softening, his voice weak. “You just up and leave. Fuck Justin, that’s how it goes?”

“No,” I say, my voice pleading, my heart cracking. But I can’t crack. Not again. “I…I was gonna leave a note.”

He scoffs, his face breaking into a mocking smile. “A note? A note?!?! Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

He looks down at the desk and snatches the paper I’d been writing on. I dart around the desk, trying to reach for it but he’s too quick, backing away from me a bit and dodging my hands as the grope for the page. I shift my feet, crossing my arms over my chest as his eyes scan the page, his tongue moving over his teeth inside his mouth. He stares at it for a moment before shaking it at me, the rustle of the paper deafening in the silent room.

“‘I’m sorry?’” he mocks and I tuck a strand of hair nervously behind my ear, looking away. “That’s all you got for me is ‘I’m sorry?’”

“It’s not finished,” I reply weakly and a derisive sound pulls from his throat as he crumples it up and tosses it so that it hits me in the chest and bounces to the floor.

“Fuck you,” he spats, flipping me off as he turns towards the French doors.

“Justin, I’m sorry!” I exclaim my voice breaking and he stops but doesn’t turn. “This is all my fault. I never should have let it get this far. I should have been more responsible,” I swallow hard, “and I never should have led you on.”

He turns slowly. “Led me on?” he asks, his eyes narrowing and I look down under his penetrating gaze. “We’re still gonna play that fucking game?”

“It’s not a game,” I sigh, letting my arms fall to my sides.

“That’s all it’s ever been, Skylar,” he growls. “You, playing your little fucked up mind game with yourself, convincing yourself you don’t feel shit for me but we both know it’s not fucking true.”

“Justin, we can’t do this,” I say shaking my head at him, my throat constricting.

“It’s not fucking TRUE!” he yells, his voice breaking and his mouth opens slightly as he looks down, working his jaw from side to side, his eyes becoming glassy and I have to look away.

“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady, trying to be the strong one again, one last time. “This is your life, Justin. This is my life. We can’t throw away everything we’ve worked for…my masters…your career…”

“We don’t have to!” he exclaims, his eyes pleading, “We can keep it a secret. We’ve done it this long!”

I sigh, shaking my head at him. “Justin, I have to leave first thing in the morning or my professor is going to tell your mother and your manager-”

“Fuck him,” Justin spats, stepping to me and I know I should take a step back but I hesitate. I always hesitate, “and fuck them. Skylar, I don’t care.” His voice is soft and broken as he brings his hand up to run the backs of his fingers down my cheek. “I just wanna be with you.”

His eyes are large and pleading as I swallow hard, my entire body trembling. My tongue is thick as cotton in my mouth and he’s begging me to stay. With every fiber of his being he’s begging me to stay and my heart aches. He’s so close to me, I can feel the heat from his skin, feel his breath fanning across my face. I can’t do this. I can’t. He has to go. I take a step back.

“Justin, my flight leaves at a quarter to eight tomorrow,” I say as evenly as possible, brushing his words away and his hand falls to his side, his face wounded and sad. “I have… I have things to do. It’s…it’s late.” I swallow hard. “You…you should go.”

“I love you, Sky,” he replies softly and it’s like a punch in the gut. “You’re just gonna leave me? I love you. More than anything,” his voice breaks and he looks down, biting his bottom lip hard. “You’re…you’re just gonna leave?”

My heart is breaking, cracking and shattering and I’m falling apart inside. I can’t do this. I can’t do this. He’s looking at me, his lip practically trembling and he looks as lost as I feel right now.

“I don’t have a choice, Justin,” I say softly, fighting the urge to touch his face, fighting the urge to throw my arms around him and seek the comfort he would unwittingly give.

“Yes, you do!” he exclaims weakly and his eyes are wet and I can’t do this. “You stay. You say ‘fuck you’ to your professor, and my parents, and my manager and you tell me you love me and you stay.” He reaches for me again but I pull back. He scowls. “You stay, Skylar,” he says his face determined, his eyes hard and bright. “You stay with me.”

“It’s not that easy,” I plead, my chest tightening and I sigh, shaking my head at him. “You’re so young-”

“What does that have to do with anything!” he laughs humorlessly, shaking his head in a baffled way. “I don’t care if you’re twenty-three or eighty-” I snort and he glares at me. I look down, chastised. “I don’t care. You’re always gonna be that much older than me forever. And that’s how long I’m gonna love you so you need to get the fuck over it.”

“Justin-”

“You can’t tell me you don’t love me,” he says, his eyes determined, barely holding his tears at bay. “I know you love me. Why won’t you just say it?”

“I can’t do that,” I say shaking my head and swallowing hard. “You know I can’t say that to you.”

I can’t. If I say it I’ll never leave. He has to know that. My entire body is trembling, every ounce of will power being used not to cry and he’s shaking too as he lets his head fall back with a defeated sigh, biting his bottom lip hard. He brings his head forward again, his eyes boring into mine and when he opens his mouth to speak, his voice isn’t his own. It’s a defeated whimper of sound as he begs me.

“Please, Skylar.”

I shake my head, my eyes closing because I can’t see him so broken. I can’t see the impact my leaving has on him. He has to go. He has to leave so I can leave. I can’t do this. My eyes are shut tight so it’s a shock when he’s against me in an instant, his hands curling around my jaw, holding me almost painfully. I open my eyes and his face is wet, tears streaming from his blue eyes and a sob works its way from my throat to see him so distraught, to know that I’m the one that’s hurting him so deeply. His breath is coming in hisses between his clenched teeth, his fingers digging into the delicate flesh behind my ears, his hands shaking hard as he grips my face.

“If you’re gonna leave me, tell me you love me,” he whimpers, his voice uneven and weak and it’s all I can do to keep my tears at bay.

“Jus…” I breathe hard, sucking in air the best I can because fuck this hurts like hell, seeing him this way, knowing it’s me that’s causing it. “Justin, I can’t.”

“FUCKING TELL ME!” he screams, his hands sliding down to cup my neck and he forces my forehead against his, grinding our skulls together and I can’t hold it back anymore.

“I c-c-can’t,” I sob, my entire body convulsing with it. I shake my head, my nose bumping against his as I grip his wrists tight in my hands. “I w-w-won’t…god Justin I can’t.”

“TELL ME DAMMIT!” he yells, shaking me a little, his breaths coming in wet gasps, his face screwed up in anguish as tears drip from his nose and jaw. I choke on a sob, my nails digging into the delicate skin of his inner wrists and his grip loosens, bringing his hands up to cup my face tenderly. Calloused finger tips brush my hair back from my face and his voice a broken whisper as he says, “Tell me and I’ll let you go.”

I let my eyes slide shut, tears falling down my cheeks and he wipes at them with his thumbs, still taking care of me even when I’m breaking his heart. The silence in the room is deafening, nothing but the sound of our ragged breaths and suppressed sobs. My heart is breaking and I can’t take it. I can’t do this to him. I can’t bear it. I love him too much and I know what I’m about to do will kill us both, but I can’t do this anymore.

“I love you…”

It’s no more than a shaky whisper, barely audible even in the silence but it’s as if the room explodes when I say it, a guttural sob pulling from his throat as his mouth crushes to mine. Stars explode behind my eyes, as our tears mix on our faces, breathing into each other’s mouths because between our sobs we can’t breathe but we can’t not kiss either; I need his lips like I need air. He holds me hard against him and my arms circle around his shoulders, trying to press myself as close to him as possible because I can’t let go. Not now. Not ever. His arms slide around my waist, his hands wide and warm against my lower back before he wraps his arms fully around me and bends his knees just enough to get the leverage to lift me up and my feet dangle a few inches off the floor.

I gasp into his mouth as he staggers the few inches to the bed, laying me back and crawling over me, his lips only leaving mine for a split second. My hands delve into his mass of curls, my legs splaying on either side of his hips, allowing him to press intimately against me, pushing my body up into his as his lips smudge across my jaw and down my neck.

“I love you,” he murmurs softly against my skin as his hands smooth my shirt up my body.

I’m completely spun as he touches me gently, reverently, my brain fuzzy and clouded. But that’s how it always is when I’m with him. So I do the only thing I can, something I’ve never done when I’m with him. I turn my brain off, and I let my heart take over.

“I love you, too,” I whisper back and his hands stop as he pulls back to look me in the face, his eyes uncertain as if he can’t trust his own ears.

I smile softly at him, cupping his face in my hands, running my thumbs along the soft skin under his eyes and they close, his lashes tickling the tips of my fingers. I place one hand on his shoulder, the other reaching up to fluff the curls off his forehead and I just let my fingers trace his features. My finger tips brush his forehead, my forefinger trailing down the bridge of his nose and across his cheek. They skate over his jaw line before I cup his chin, my thumb brushing across his full bottom lip which he licks in response.

I bring my lips to his softly and my stomach quivers, a well of emotion washing over me. His lips slant over mine and his tongue slides past my lips, tasting me slowly and sweetly. My heart is thundering in my chest as he pulls back slightly, his hands smoothing my t-shirt up over my breasts and I raise my shoulders off the bed to allow him to tug it off.

There is no gawking or staring like before, he just tosses it aside and crosses his arms over his body to pull his tank top over his head and I watch him somewhat mesmerized. He allows his body to fall back over mine, his chest pressing against me, skin on skin, and it’s enough to make me sigh contentedly, my arms wrapping around his back. I press my cheek against his shoulder, his skin warm and soft against mine and his hand slips under my head, cradling it gently as his other arm slips between my back and the mattress holding me against him.

My eyes well as that wave of emotion hits me again, my chest tightening with it, causing me to press my face harder into him, my palms flattening against his back before I dig my nails in just slightly. He kisses the side of my head, his nose nuzzling in my hair before his lips smudge along my cheek bone, then down my face. I loll my head to the side, giving him full access to the long column of my neck and he smiles before he dips his head, kissing my pulse point and then dragging his lips down to nibble at the crook of my shoulder.

He pulls back and looks down at me, a look of awe and adoration and love as fierce and unrelenting as an out-of-control blaze washing his features, and it scares me, but it’s al1 right because he’s with me. He reaches up, his fingers hovering tentatively at my hair line before he drags his fingertips down, and I close my eyes as they brush across my eyelids, down the bridge of my nose and cheeks and stopping briefly at my lips, reading my smile like brail. I open my eyes and he’s still gazing lovingly at me, causing me to pull my bottom lip between my teeth, shy under his penetrating stare and he tugs it free with his thumb before leaning in to kiss me deeply.

His hands skim down my body, his touch light and gentle, memorizing me by touch and it hits me that this could be the last time we ever do this. Panic seizes me and tears pool in my eyes, my hands clutching at his skin desperately. He pulls his face from my neck just in time to see a tear slide from the corner of my eye to my hair line and his brow knits, his hand cupping my face. I shake my head as I open my mouth to tell him it’s okay but he kisses me before I have the chance to speak.

It’s slow and deep and in a moment all I can think of is the way he’s pressing into me, the way his skin is so warm against mine. My hands smooth down his sides, thumbs hooking in the waistband of his basketball shorts and he pulls back, resting his forehead against my own as I shimmy them and his boxer-briefs over his slim hips. He kicks them off his legs before sitting back slightly and staring down at me, his hands skimming down my body. His fingers stop at the barrier of my sleep shorts, tracing the skin softly before peeling them and my underwear from my body.

When he lies over me, he’s touching me everywhere, his hips against my thighs, his belly against mine, the insides of his arms nestled against the outsides of mine and I’ve never felt this close to a person before. His hands move slowly down my body, his hand reaching down to cup one of my knees before smoothing up the outside of my thigh and then underneath, his fingers curling so that his nails scratch me gently before he smoothes the backs of his fingers down to my knee again. His eyes search mine and I gaze back up at him uncertainly, butterflies setting loose in my stomach, my hands rubbing against his sides tentatively.

We’ve done this dozens of times but for some reason, right now, him touching me feels like the first time. It almost feels like I’ve never done this before and I feel somewhat lost and kind of ridiculous because it’s sex and, of course, I’ve done this before, but I can’t shake this nagging feeling that I haven’t done this before. It doesn’t make sense even to me, but somehow I sense that he understands. It’s in the way he’s looking down at me, his eyes soft and reassuring as his hands come up to cup my face gently.

He smiles down at me and licks his lips before kissing me over and over again and I whimper against his mouth as my heart flutters like a spooked bird in my ribcage, but he holds me steady, his hands cradling my face gently My hands are clutching his sides, palms flat against the dip of his waist, holding him somewhat uncertainly, as if I don’t know what to do with my hands, but I know I want to be touching him. He pulls back just slightly and nuzzles his nose against mine, shifting his hips, and I tremble when I feel him press against me intimately.

My eyes are wide as I look up at him, my heart hammering inside my chest and I’m sure he can feel it. My breath is coming in short pants against his lips, my eyes flitting from his to his cheek, his gaze so intense and intimate that I can’t look at him for too long.

“Skylar,” he says my name softly, reverently, like a prayer and my eyes lock on his as his hand skims down my thigh again. “It’s okay,” he whispers, his lips brushing mine and he smiles. “I’m scared, too.”

My breathing hitches and my hand comes up to fist in the curls at the base of his skull as I press my cheek to his hard, my breath coming in short pants against his ear. He’s shushing me softly as his hand slides beneath my lower back, lifting my hips just slightly so that he’s poised at my entrance. My nails scratch lightly against his scalp as my other hand clutches at his back, my entire body shaking and I can’t believe I’m being like this. It’s just Justin. It’s just sex. But something tells me that those two things together will never be “just” anything anymore.

“You ready, baby?” he whispers into my hair before pulling back and cupping my face gently.

He’s looking down at me lovingly, his eyes blue and deep and I let myself fall into them in that way I’ve only ever been able to do with him. I take a deep breath and nod slightly, nuzzling my face against his, letting my eyes close as I tighten my arms around him and try to relax.

“Look at me, Skylar,” he whispers softly as the backs of his fingers brush my cheek tenderly and I open my eyes just in time to see him smile.

He pierces me and I cry out, my heart exploding as my back arches, pushing my body against his, needing to be close to him because right now being away from him scares me more than anything. He shushes me gently as I whimper and writhe, clutching at his body as if he were going to pull away at any second. His hand wraps around my jaw gently, holding me steady as he presses and presses and presses until he’s buried deep inside and we’re both trembling.

“God, Sky,” he whimpers, his head dropping to my shoulder and I clutch at his back, holding onto him for dear life.

He swallows hard, settling his body flush against mine, our bellies pressing softly together as he supports himself on his elbows. His tongue sneaks out to wet his lips as a smile tugs at his mouth and his eyes never leave mine as he touches my face tenderly. We’re both panting as he brings his lips to mine, hovering just slightly, not wanting to break our gaze and when he presses his lips to mine, he’s still watching me, even up until my eyes slide shut in pleasure. His tongue dips in and I shiver hard because he’s touching me everywhere. Outside and inside he’s all I can feel and this overwhelming sense of closeness envelops me and I don’t just feel full. I feel whole. Complete.

I pull back, pressing my forehead hard to his as a small whimper pulls from my throat. He’s so close and he’s all over me and it’s the most amazing thing I have ever felt. To not feel empty and alone, to be completely connected to someone, to him. And to have him look at me like I’m perfect and have him touch me like I’m the only thing he could ever need. To finally feel wanted and loved and good enough. His mouth presses to mine again and again and again, his body buried deep inside me and I’m dizzy from it all, from his mouth, from his hands, and from this feeling that is completely overtaking me.

When he slides back just slightly, I gasp at the loss but it melts into a low moan when his back arches and he dips back in slowly, his body deep inside mine once more. My hands grip and clutch at his sides, holding him as close to me as possible, feeling his heart thud against my breast. He moans low in his chest as his lips brush mine and it’s hard to imagine that I could ever possibly need anything more than this. When his nose nuzzles mine and he whispers that he loves me, my breath catches in my throat at the sincerity in his voice, and I do the only thing I can. I say it back.

He smiles widely at me, his body settling over mine before he begins to roll his hips, setting a slow and steady pace that has me breathless. I lift my legs, my thighs gripping his hips as he tugs back and pushes in again and again and I’m whimpering with every roll of his hips, the closeness overwhelming and it’s almost too much but he’s right here with me. He’s here and he’s not going anywhere… at least not for now.

His forehead is pressed to mine and he’s staring down at me through heavy lids, his lips bumping against mine as we breathe each others breaths and if I didn’t know better I’d say our hearts were beating in time with each other’s. But that’s impossible, isn’t it? That only happens in romance novels. I breathe deep, concentrating on the feeling of his heart thudding against my skin and the roar of my own in my ears and it’s impossible. They can’t be…

He groans deep before his mouth captures mine and I shiver as he kisses me slow over and over again until I’m dizzy and I can’t think or care about anything else but him here with me. My hands are curling and uncurling against his back, gripping him tightly as he slips in and out of me slowly, my hips rocking to meet him thrust for thrust. His pace is languid and easy, his hip bone bumping my clit pleasurably as he moves and I’m panting hard, pleasure coursing through me.

His mouth is on mine, kissing me sweetly over and over again, his hands curling around my shoulders before sliding down my arms and one hooks under my thigh, tugging my leg around his hip and I mimic the motion with my other, crossing my ankles at his lower back allowing him to slide deeper into me and I cry out against him, my cheek pressing into his shoulder because it’s too much. I hold onto him and he’s got me. I know he has me. He wouldn’t let me go. I know this. I know it.

His hand grips my jaw again, turning my face to him and I whimper softly but his lips coax me gently, kissing me softly and bringing me back to him, holding me and keeping me here in this moment with him and he has me and I am safe. Our breathing is ragged our bodies rocking against each other, holding onto each other for dear life because in this moment we are all we have. We are all we need.

“Oh…god…Sk-” it melts into a moan before it can fully leave his lips and he buries his face in my neck, his breath fanning my damp skin. “I love you.”

I choke back a sob, tears welling in my eyes as my arms tighten around him and when he pulls back and kisses me they slip down my cheeks.

“I love you,” he murmurs, kissing away my tears and I’m waiting to wake up because this has to be a dream. It feels too good and he’s too perfect.

“I love you, too,” I somehow manage to breathe and the smile that breaks out over his face dazzles me

He presses his mouth to mine, his pace quickening and the pleasure that rips through me is like nothing I’ve ever felt before, his body filling me completely and I whimper as my stomach begins to tighten because I don’t want it to be over. My hands paw at his back and I’m trying to push it down and away because I don’t want it to end but he’s pressing into that spot inside me and my entire body trembles and I need it.

“Justin,” I whimper, my nails clawing at his skin, my heels digging into his lower back and I’m so close. “Justin…oh god…”

He’s panting hard, his hips rocking against mine gently and he bites his lip before opening his eyes and staring down at me and he’s vulnerable and powerful all at the same time and I can’t look away. He nuzzles his nose with mine before kissing me slowly and my entire body convulses, my legs locking around him, nails scraping down his sides as I cry out his name, sobbing from the pleasure and the closeness, holding onto him for dear life.

He crushes his forehead to mine, his mouth opening, breath panting against my lips as his eyes squeeze shut. I curl my arms between us, reaching up to hold his face in my hands and he’s whimpering and whining as he pushes into me over and over again. I curl my hand around the back of his head, my other arm wrapping under his to grip his back as I pull his face to mine, kissing him deeply and his hips jerk hard one last time. His mouth opens against mine in a gasp as he coats me deep inside, his body trembling and quaking and I hold him close to me, hoping to give him some of the comfort he gives me.

His body relaxes against mine and I hold him close because it’s all I can do. I have to hold onto him now because in a less than four hours the only thing I’m going to be able to hold onto is this memory. It’s not enough, but it’s all I’m going to have.

He lifts up on his arms and kisses me slowly, his lips warm and soft, his tongue slick and strong as it surges into my mouth and in minutes we’re groping and rocking against each other again and we can’t stop. We both know this is the end and we want to spend every last second we can together. Declarations of love whispered against bare flesh until they don’t even sound like words, his mouth on my body, my lips wrapped around his, this is what we have and what we’re trying to keep from forgetting. He moves inside me, propped up on locked arms and I call to him over and over and when he’s so exhausted that his arms can’t hold him up anymore I grip his hips with my knees and roll him, watching him grin tiredly up at me.

But neither of us will tell the other to stop. Neither of us wants it to end. I rock against him, our hands everywhere, dipping down to taste his skin, sure its burned in my memory but one more kiss just to make sure, nails scraping against flesh, finger tips digging into hips, pleasure coursing through our veins over and over until finally neither of us can move and we lay there in the quiet, watching daylight creep up the walls.

The clock on the bedside table reads a quarter after six and I should be getting up. I should be showering and getting ready for my flight. Instead I just close my eyes and listen to his heart beat, pressing my body harder against his and the arm around my shoulders tightens. I should be dozing, bleary eyed and exhausted but I’m wide awake, paralyzed by fear.

Fear of leaving, fear of losing. I’ve spent the entire summer pushing him away, telling him no, wishing he would just not be here and now when I’m hours away from having him not be there I’m wishing I could have all those moments back. Every time I told him no, every time I told him stop, I wish I could go back and tell him yes, tell him don’t ever stop. All those times he told me he loved me and I just looked away I wish I could go back and throw my arms around him and tell him I loved him, too over and over and over again until he was sick of hearing it. I wish I could take it all back and start all over. I wish I was better. I wish I was stronger. I wish I was someone who deserved to be loved unconditionally by him.

That’s the hardest part, I think, my palm opening to press against his chest and then curling in a fist as the tears come, the regret. The regret that I had all this time and I wasted it playing stupid games and trying to pretend he wasn’t exactly what I needed. I don’t want to leave. I want to stay and hold onto him forever. Why is it always too late when you realize that the one thing you need you’ve had all along? Why does it take losing something to realize how much it means to you?

Tears leak out of my eyes and slide down onto his chest and he shifts beneath me, his hand coming to grip my fist that’s pushing against his chest. The arm that’s around my shoulder shifts so that he can skim his palm up and down my bicep, trying to comfort me but he can’t. Nothing can comfort me because I can’t take back what I’ve done. I can’t go back and treat him the way I should have, love him the way he deserved and in an hour I’ll never see him again. Well, I’ll see him; on television and in magazines. I don’t know what’s worse; the thought of never seeing him again or seeing him everywhere, a constant reminder that he isn’t with me.

It seems so impossible, to be laying here with him now and think I won’t be with him tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after that. He’s so much a part of me. I can’t fathom leaving him. I can’t fathom waking up without him. Every time I try this pain lodges itself in my chest and it’s unbearable and I can’t fucking take it. My body begins to shake as the tears come harder and harder and he squeezes me tight, begging me silently to stop.

“Shhh, baby, it’s okay,” he whispers, his voice weak and tired and I can’t stand it. I can’t do it.

“I can’t leave you,” I sob and I feel his body tense beneath me as he tries to sit up a little but with the way my body is laying over him he can only lift his head.

“Skylar, it’s okay, honey,” he whispers soothingly, his hand smoothing over my hair but I’m inconsolable.

“NO!” I yell the best I can after I’ve screamed all night long, my voice nothing more than a hard rasp. “I can’t! I won’t.”

I’m clawing at his chest, my body heaving with sobs as I cough and sputter. He’s struggling to sit up, lifting my body and his as he scoots so that his back is against the headboard. He tucks my face into his neck and I wrap my arms tightly around his waist, sobbing that I won’t leave but it comes out more as incoherent mumbles.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he says steadily and I shake my head against him, writhing and clutching at him.

“No! No! I w-w-won’t d-d-do it. Fuck this! Fuck my m-m-masters, fuck my p-p-professor. I’m not g-g-going! I won’t d-d-do it! I can’t d-d-do it!”

“Sky-”

“NO!” I screech again, pulling back to look him in the face, wiping angrily at my cheeks, forcing my voice steady. “No, I love you,” I pant and his eyes close, bringing his hand up to smooth over my hair. “I love you and I want you. You’re mine! I don’t care what they say. I’m NOT going.” I bury my face in his chest as the sobs take me over again. “IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.”

He shushes me quietly as my entire body convulses with sobs and it hurts. It hurts so fucking bad and I’m not leaving. Whatever the consequences are, I’m not going. I’m going to stay here with him in this bed and we can work this out. Everything will be okay as long as he’s with me.

“Skylar,” he breathes shakily and he swallows hard. “Sky, we can’t.”

My brain jams. “What?” I ask, my breath coming in short gasps.

His face is set in anguish, his brows knit, his strong jaw clenched. He brings a hand to my face and I pull away from him, my eyes demanding an explanation. This is all he ever wanted, me to say ‘fuck it all’ and for us to be together. I don’t understand. I told him I loved him. I told him I wasn’t leaving. This is what he wanted. I don’t understand.

“You were always the strong one,” He smiles softly at me, tucking a strand of hair behind me ear, “You were always the one who kept me in check. ‘Justin not here.’ ‘Justin we can’t do this now.’” My heart constricts.

“I know I was a bitch, Justin,” I cough, my breath hitching. “I know that. I’m sorry. I-”

He presses one long finger to my lips silencing me instantly. “You took care of me. You made sure nothing bad happened to us. You were the responsible one.” I snort at this and he smiles. “You were the responsible one and I was this reckless little boy who wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

He sighs, one hand smoothing over my hair as the other cups my chin, running his thumb along my bottom lip. I nuzzle my face into his hand, tears still zigzagging down my face every now and then. He licks his lips and takes a deep breath, his eyes bright with unshed tears.

“Let…let me be the strong one this time,” he whispers softly and I close my eyes shaking my head at him. He shushes me again softly, his hands holding my face, smoothing my hair down softly. “Let me be a man for once, Sky.”

My heart shatters as I fall against him, my hands clutching at his shoulders as sobs wrack my body because the way he says it... I know he’s right. He’s always right. He was right when he told me I should just give in and he’s right now when he says I have to let go. He holds me tight against him and I let him cradle me and shush me. I let all of my pain and anguish out against his chest, coughing and sputtering and begging him to reconsider. He doesn’t and I feel helpless and defeated. I decide that not being the strong one isn’t as easy as one would assume it to be.

By the time my tears finally subside I’m stoic and trembling, the reality of what this all means finally weighing down on me. His voice is soft as he tells me it’s time to get up.

The clock reads seven a.m. I shut my eyes and pray for it to go away. I pray for time to stop. I pray that I can just sit here and pretend that we can stay this way forever. But he won’t let me, pulling me back from him, peeling my weak fingers away easily as I try to grip him.

He slides out of bed, wobbling as he searches for his clothes and I watch him, wrapping myself in the blankets that smell like him but they’ll never be warm like him. I’ll never be warm like that again. I’ll never feel safe like that again. My heart trembles like I’m going to cry again but the tears don’t come, my body too weak to even cry any more.

My limbs don’t feel like my own as he tugs me out of bed and helps me dress, speaking softly to me, promising me I’ll be okay and as I sit on the end of the bed and watch him kneel in front of me to slip my sandals on my feet, it really hits me. This is the last time I’m ever going to be with him.

My hand reaches out to touch his face and he smiles weakly up at me, his blue eyes so far beyond fatigued. He pulls himself up weakly and presses his lips to mine and I grip the back of his head, hands delving into his unruly curls as his tongue slips past my lips for a quick taste. He pulls back and I try to dart forward to recapture his lips but my brain is tired and slow and I’m not quick enough.

“Come on,” he whispers softly, pulling himself to his feet and holding a hand out to me.

I take it, gripping his fingers tightly and I can’t leave him. I can’t do it. He steps forward to grab for my suitcase and I step close behind him, my hip pressing to his, my free hand wrapping around his forearm. He looks at me over his shoulder, smiling softly before turning back and he picks up my bag. I press close to him as we walk into the living area, moving slowly so our legs don’t get tangled and we make our way towards the door. My entire being is begging me to tug him back into the bedroom and curl up against his chest and sleep until it’s dark again, to kiss him and love him and never leave. But I’m too weak to protest, to broken to hear him tell me no.

He opens the door and I stop, not crossing the threshold. He looks back at me questioningly and my eyes plead with him, my fingers squeezing around his hand and his arm. He gives me a sad, longing look that is quickly replaced by a blank mask and then a small smile as he tugs his head back, beckoning me to follow him. I heave a pitiful sigh and step forward, my stomach dropping and I feel I could be sick. This is really it. It’s really over.

He tugs me along behind him and presses the button for the elevator and we wait in silence, staring at the floor indicator. I tremble slightly, forcing the bile from my throat as I curl my arm around his, pressing my face to his shoulder and he rests his cheek against the top of my head, his sigh rustling my hair softly.

The doors open and we both stare at it wide eyed, neither of us moving. I’m paralyzed by fear. I can’t go. I can’t. I can’t. He moves first, picking up my suitcase and setting it inside the elevator. All that’s left now is for me to get inside.

I look up at him and he smiles reassuringly at me, tugging his hand from mine and settling it on my lower back, giving me a gentle nudge and my feet step forward and I’m in the elevator and it feels so big and empty and I’m all alone. I look back at him and his jaw is tight, staring at me blankly, his fists clenched at his sides.

“NO!” I scream as the doors start to close and they jump back as I throw myself through the opening and into his arms.

His arms receive me, closing around me tightly as he buries his face in my shoulder, his back trembling as silent tears slide down my collarbone. My hand clutches the back of his head my other arm tight around his shoulders, holding him close, every muscle in my body tensed from the pain. I can’t leave him. I won’t leave him.

The doors start to close again and he sniffs, pulling his face back and reaching out quickly to hit the button again, keeping them open. I don’t let him go, pulling back just enough to cup his face, wiping his tears away with my thumbs like he always did for me and I kiss him. I kiss him and it’s deep and it’s good and I don’t ever want to stop.

He wrenches his mouth from mine, pulling back breathless and his eyes tell me he can’t do this. His eyes say he’s barely hanging on. He needs me to get in this elevator. He needs me to help him let me go. I press my forehead hard to his one last time, tears coursing down my cheeks as I unwrap my arms from around his body and I take a step back.

And another.

And another.

And I’m standing in the elevator again, looking back at him and he’s taking his breaths in heavy gulps, his entire body trembling and I fight the urge to reach for him again because I know he can’t take it. I’m sure it’s taking everything he has just to stay upright because I know that’s how it is for me right now. My hand reaches out and it’s a miracle I can even hit the button for the lobby I’m shaking so hard. My eyes fall on him one last time, memorizing him.

He’s tall, taller than me with blond curls sticking out in every direction. Tears course from his blue eyes down his handsome face which I used to call boyish but the expression he holds right now is only one that a man can have. My eyes fall on his broad, sunkissed shoulders and slide down to his slim waist and then to his scrawny-ass legs. I smile at him softly and his eyelids flutter as he smiles back.

His lips mouth the words “I love you” and I mouth them back just before the doors close. And that’s the last time I see him, smiling and telling me he loves me.

The End???