Heartprints in the Void
⊰ 22 ⊱ Broken Pieces: Part 2

In Cade's arms, I unconsciously shift my weight to him, trusting that he'll keep me from falling. I draw my lip between my teeth, focusing on my breathing as he guides me back inside, kicking the door shut behind him. "Let's sit you down." "I-I can't..." I whimper, my voice breaking. "I can't sit." He doesn't hesitate, understanding flashing in his eyes as he nods, adjusting his hold on me. "Okay, let's get you to bed then."

*Oh, God. This is so embarrassing...*

Shame washes over me, and I want nothing more than to hide my face from him as he helps me to my bedroom, his arm firmly around my waist. When we reach the bedroom, he tries to lower me onto the bed, but the moment I try to bend at the hip, my back locks up, a cry of pain escaping my lips.

Instantly, Cade pulls me into his arms, holding me up as I cling to the front of his shirt, my hands balling the fabric into fists. I breathe in his scent, the familiar warmth of his embrace, trying to relax my muscles until the pain passes. After a few moments, the worst of the spasm subsides, and I'm able to stand on my own again, albeit shakily. He brushes a strand of hair from my face, his touch gentle, his eyes filled with concern. *Don't look at me like that... Please, don't look at me like that.*

"I'm going to help you lay down, okay?" he murmurs, his voice soft.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Carefully, he lifts me into his arms, one arm tucked under my knees, the other supporting my back. He lowers me onto the bed, the mattress dipping under my weight.

He sits beside me, watching as I wipe the last of the tears from my face. His hand reaches out, brushing my hair back, his fingers lingering on my cheek.

"I took care of you the first time you got hurt," he says quietly, his gaze distant, as if lost in the memory. "It was like this, wasn't it?"

*He remembers?*

I nod, swallowing past the limp in my throat. "Yes," I whisper. "You were there for me...every step of the way."

Something flickers across his face, too fast for me to catch. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then thinks better of it and closes it again, shaking his head.

"You should go," I say, my voice barely audible. "I'll be okay. You don't have to stay."

For a long moment, he eyes me. I can see the reluctance in his face, the thought in his eyes. And a second later, he shakes his head, resolution painted on his face. "No. I'm not leaving you like this, Ely. Not when you're in so much pain." *Because you want to? Or because you feel guilty?*

I want to argue, to tell him that I can take care of myself, that I don't need him. But the truth is, I do need him. I need his strength, his comfort, his presence.

I always have.

And so, despite the voice in my head telling me to push him away, to protect my fragile heart, I find myself nodding, my resolve crumbling.

"Okay," I whisper, my eyes flickering away from him. "Stay."

With that, he reaches for the blanket I'd tossed off to the side, gently pulling it over me, tucking me in with a tenderness that makes my heart ache.

"What do you need from me?" he asks softly, his eyes searching mine.

I turn my head to the side, trying to hide my vulnerability, my embarrassment at him seeing me like this. I feel exposed, raw, like my heart is laid bare before him.

"Mind if I ask how it happened this time?" His voice is gentle, coaxing.

I sigh softly, my gaze still averted. "How do you think it happened?"

I can feel his eyes on me, steady and unwavering. "You're still powerlifting, aren't you?"

A small smile tugs at my lips despite the pain, and I nod, my eyes finding the dab pen on the nightstand. "Never stopped," I mutter.

"Mmm," he hums, a hint of amusement in his tone. "The...*legs* make sense now."

*Oh, so he* does *look*.

...

*He was gonna say ass.*

I snap my gaze to his, raising an eyebrow as a smirk plays on my lips. I reach for the pen, placing it between my lips and inhaling deeply. My eyes flutter shut as I hold the smoke in my lungs, savoring the familiar burn before exhaling slowly, the cloud of vaper dissipating in the air between us.

When I open my eyes, Cade is watching me intently, his expression unreadable. He reaches out, plucking the pen from my fingers and studying it with slightly furrowed brows.

"Are you high, Elysian?" His tone is stern, but there's a hint of something else beneath the surface. Concern, maybe. Or curiosity.

I giggle softly, nodding my head as I gaze at him through hooded eyes. "As a kite," I confess, my words slightly slurred.

"We drug test quarterly," he says suddenly, a stern expression playing on his face.

My heart drops, panic sobering me slightly. "You're lying..."

But he doesn't flinch, his gaze holding mine steadily. "It's this upcoming Monday."

*You're fucking lying...*

Then, the corner of his mouth twitches, a smirk breaking through his stoic facade. He brings the pen to his lips, taking a small hit. "It's a good thing we're not on the list," he says with a wink. *Are you serious?!*

I exhale sharply, equal parts relieved and annoyed. "I don't like you," I mutter with no real heat behind my words.

He chuckles, rising to his feet and taking another hit as he walks around the other side of the bed. He sits on the edge, his back to me as he asks, "Mind if I get comfortable?"

I shake my head, watching as he reaches back, pulling his shirt up and over his head in one swift motion. The muscles of his back ripple beneath his skin, and I find myself transfixed by the sight. He kicks his shoes off before scooting back onto the bed, settling in beside me. He leans back against the pillows, one hand behind his head, the other holding the pen to his lips.

He takes another deep inhale before passing the pen back to me. I take it from his hold, surprise coloring my features. "I thought you said you were quitting," I remark, remembering our conversation from what feels like a lifetime ago. He hums, his eyes drifting shut. "I did, for a while. After my mom died, I start using again. But I've weaned off it quite a bit since."

"Oh..." I breathe, turning to look at him. Memories of that day, of the hollow look in his eyes, the emptiness in his voice, come rushing back. "I-I was terrified that day. You walked around like an empty shell. That was the last memory I had of you."

*God, I miss him so much...*

The bridge of my nose stings, my eyes welling with tears as I try to fight the quiver of my lips. The music that drifts from the speakers, once a soothing backdrop, now feels like salt in an open wound. Ed Sheeran's *One*-the song that used to be ours, now feels like a knife twisting in my heart.

"This song was playing in your dorm room when we..." his voice trails off. He turns to look at me, his eyes distant, lost in the past as he murmurs, "I first told you that I loved you to his song." And just like that, I'm transported back to that moment, to the love and the joy and the promise of forever. But now, after everything that's happened since, it breaks me.

A sob tears from my throat, and I can't stop the tears that spill down my cheeks. I turn my head away, a futile attempt at trying to hide my face as my chest heaves with the force of my cries. *Why does it hurt so much..?*

Cade's strong arms wrap around me, pulling me into his warm, solid chest. He holds me close, his touch gentle as he murmurs apologies into my hair.

*But it's not your fault...*

Anger rises in me, hot and sharp. Anger at him, at his father, at myself. He left me, and I spiraled. I told myself I didn't care, but I did. I convinced myself I had forgiven him, but I didn't. Even after learning the truth, that it wasn't his choice, I was still angry.

Even now, I still am.

I rest my head on his bare chest, my arm draped across his stomach, my fingers pressed against my lips as I try to steady my breathing. "I resent you," I whisper, my voice thick with tears. "I know." His words are soft, tinged regret and pain.

Heavy silence stretches between us, but for the first time, I don't mind it. I listen to the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath my ear, letting it ground me, anchor me in the present.

The music changes, James Arthur's *Last of the Whiskey* filling the room. The slow, sultry beat wraps around us, and I find myself wishing I could sway to the melody, to lose myself in the haze of smoke.

I tilt my head back, my eyes finding Cade's. For a moment, we simply gaze at each other, the air between us thickening. Slowly, he leans in, his lips brushing against mine in a gentle kiss.

My eyes flutter shut, and I melt into him, into the familiarity of his touch, his taste. His arm tightens around my waist, pulling me closer as his other hand comes up to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing away the last of my tears.

I deepen the kiss, my tongue sliding against his in a dance we've perfected over countless nights we spent together in the past. I can feel his member hardening, pressing against my hip, and it sets a fire in my veins. *I want him. I need him.*

I try to pull him closer, to urge him on top of me, but he denies me, breaking the kiss with a shaky exhale. He rests his forehead against mine, his breath mingling with my own as he whispers, "Not like this, Ely." "Please," I beg, my voice barely a whimper. "I just want to say goodbye. I never got to say goodbye..."

He's silent for a long moment, his eyes closed, his jaw clenched tight. Then, slowly, he shakes his head, his hand sliding from my cheek to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair. "I'm not letting you say goodbye," he says, his voice rough with emotion. "Not again."

And with those words, I feel the last of my defenses crumble, the last of my reservations fade away. I rest my head on his chest once more, breathing in the scent of him, the scent of him.

The music changes again, Levi Kreis' *I Should Go* drifting through the speakers. The irony of the lyrics isn't lost on me, but I push it aside, letting the gentle melody lull me into a sense of peace. As I hover on the edge of sleep, I feel Cade shift beneath me, his arm tightening around me as he reaches out, slowly lowering the volume until the music is little more than a whisper.

In the warmth of his embrace, the pain in my back fades into a dull ache, the hurt in my heart soothed by the steady beat of his, I allow myself to drift off, to surrender to the exhaustion that pulls at my limbs.