Chapter 117: Epilogue Part 8
Chapter 117: Epilogue Part 8
"i'm sleep," abel whines in a childlike manner, pushing his face further against noah's neck and
attempting to get closer to him even though it doesn't seem possible when they are already pressed
against each other too firmly. the darkness of the sky outside and the time on the clock seems
increasingly irrelevant—abel isn't sure how they have managed to just. . .stay in each other's presence
for so long without making any kind of conversation, or eating, or using the bathroom, because he is
quite sure that neither of them have moved an inch in the past three hours. he isn't even sure if he has
working limbs right now—but that's probably the sleepiness talking.
"sleep?"
"sleep,"
"you're cute," noah laughs softly. somehow his fingertips aren't tired of tracing paths across abel 's
body, or searching through the wild forest atop abel 's head—he is just as addicted to the feeling of
abel as he was three hours, three months and three years ago. he can swear on his life that time hasn't
moved, neither has he to be fair, but he can't tell if it's midnight or morning, if it's cold or hot, if it's
awkward or boring—noah can just tell that abel is finally here—real, breathing, here.
"debatable,"
"don't test me roberts, i have valid points,"
"it's lester," abel pokes him playfully. "if you get my last name wrong again i'm divorcing you,"
"fine, lester,"
"okay, roberts,"
"listen whatever you are doing right now is very gay," noah raises his eyebrows in mock confusion and
abel looks up at him with squinted eyes, his lips stretched into an adoring smile.
"yeah that's because i haven't done anything gay in three years,"
"wanna do. . . something gay?" noah teases him half heartedly, moving the slightest bit closer so their
noses are touching and the sharp intake of abel 's breath makes him almost pin the younger man to
this worn out couch. almost.
"mm, yeah," and all the cement of morality and time and space melts fleetingly in abel 's brain—all he
can see right now is noah, so in a classic tale of how-not-to-meet-your-husband-after-years—he leans
forward and let's his lips touch noah's.
it's surprise that it doesn't take noah less than a second to respond. he just releases a shaky breath
and let's his fingers span out behind abel 's neck, his thumbs pressing into abel 's cheeks softly as the
familiar pattern of his mouth burns a figurative hole in his chest. it isn't reassuring—on noah's part—it
tastes like acid disguised as honey, it feels like betrayal disguised as love, it feels like whatever they
are doing right now belongs to someone else.
he pushes his mouth harder against abel 's, tries to conquer the jealousy of somebody else touching
abel dissolve on his fingertips as he pushes them harder into abel 's skin but it just hurts, everything
hurts in a way that it hasn't hurt before and he just can't understand what has gone wrong.
abel pulls him on top, their chests flushed together and mouths moving feverishly, and although he can
feel the desperation behind abel 's hands that bunch his shirt into tight fists and he can feel abel 's raw
admiration as he traces his tongue softly along noah's mouth—that vehement distrust is so much
stronger, and when noah pulls away in a manner that provides far too less of context—abel seems to
know exactly what he's thinking. Belongs to © n0velDrama.Org.
"please don't do this," abel winds his fingers through the collar of his shirt and pulls him closer, pressing
his lips softly against noah's cheek and kissing gently along his jaw. "i can't lose you again,"
"i can't forg–"
"i'm yours," he interrupts. "always have been and always will be, it's only you, it's always been you," he
cups noah's face so he can look at him.
"i love you," and when their lips touch again, the burn of heartbreak dissolves, the simmering hatred
vanishes, the searing disloyalty finally destructs the home in noah's chest and leaves to find another
and god, something sparks in his body to let him know that he can finally love like 2009 again.
all over again.
THE END.