How Our Hearts Break: A Novel, page 18
But both of us just kept staring at her, knowing full well that the physical pain wasn’t a match to the emotional turmoil we were both going through.
“Okay, good.” She came toward the curtain at the back area of the parlor and opened it up, revealing another room with the massive chairs on opposite sides. Both had what looked like high tables, lined on the sides, filled with all sorts of equipment that I didn’t even know how to name.
But what called to me, what spoke to my soul, were the three photos hanging on the wall opposite of the entrance.
“Wow.” I came closer. “These are beautiful.”
Blues, reds, greens, and grays all danced together, creating a perfect piece of colors, of love, hope, pain, and grief, while the silhouette of a girl adorned only the center piece.
“Did you make these?” I turned around and asked while she prepared her equipment.
“No, it wasn’t me,” she answered somberly, avoiding my eyes. “It was my sister.”
Her voice took a tone that I knew all too well—longing, pain, memories that cut through you every single time you thought about that person.
Wounds were tricky little things; just when you thought that they were healing, they would open up and start bleeding again, over and over. The funniest thing was that the pain always stayed the same. Always the same throbbing, always the same burning sensation, and I worried that the people I loved would feel like that for the rest of their lives once I was gone.
“Are you ready?” Phoebe spoke to Noah who kept quiet the entire time, observing the two of us.
He took off the jacket he wore just as Leo strolled in, wearing a pair of latex gloves already.
“Are you guys allergic to latex, or maybe ink?” Leo asked as he took his place next to one of the chairs where Noah stood.
“Not that we know of,” I said, taking off my jacket as well. “Is it okay if I leave this here?” I asked Phoebe while holding my jacket and pointing at the chair in the corner.
“Yeah, of course. Feel free to just drop it there,” she said, putting on the latex gloves.
I dropped my jacket and the small bag I carried with me and walked toward the chair that seemed like the type that could be converted into a bed as well. I looked to the side and saw Noah already sitting in his, silently observing me, as if he was drinking every single movement I made.
But that look on his face… That wasn’t the look of fear or the look of pity. That was the look of fire, of the little, wicked things he wanted to do to me, and my blood rushed faster just by thinking about it.
Papers rustled as Phoebe and Leo worked on the designs, preparing them to be transferred to our hands, but my eyes stayed glued to Noah’s, imagining we were somewhere else at the moment. Somewhere alone, somewhere secluded, somewhere where reality didn’t exist and it was only the two of us, hiding away from the world.
“Which hand do you wanna get it on?” Phoebe asked, and like a robot, I gave her my left hand, barely paying attention.
I could hear her voice, but I couldn’t understand a thing she was saying, and I had a feeling Noah couldn’t hear a thing Leo just said to him.
Phoebe squirted a small amount of what looked like a gel on my hand and rubbed it over the spot where the tattoo was supposed to be placed. Next came a razor, just like the one I used to shave my legs, and as she pressed it down on my skin, removing the small hairs there, I finally looked at her.
“How long have you been doing this?” I asked her.
“Why?” She laughed. “Afraid I’m going to screw it up?”
“No, not really. More like curious to know. Maybe I’ll end up being a tattoo artist one day myself.” I snickered. “Who knows?”
She started laughing as she cleaned the excess amount of gel from my hand. “Maybe.” She lifted the sheet with the design on it and started looking between that and my hand. “I’ve been doing this for a little over five years. But I can’t remember a day where I didn’t want to do this.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. I drove my parents mad constantly babbling about tattoos when I was a kid. They had to take me every single year to do those temporary ones, because I wanted to have it on my skin. When I got my first one, my mom thought it was the temporary one. Well, the joke was on her when it didn’t wash off even after three weeks.”
“Was she pissed?”
“A little.” Phoebe shrugged. “She thought it was a phase. Turns out it definitely isn’t a phase.” She pressed the paper on my hand. “Take a look. See if the placement is okay for you.”
I lifted my hand, my eyes skimming over the crescent moon colored in purple, involuntarily smiling because it definitely was perfect.
“It looks awesome.”
“That’s good to hear.” Phoebe grinned. “It won’t take us too long to finish this one up, but since it’s your first tattoo and the placement can be a bit painful, I’ll first just press the needle of the machine to your skin, so that you can get a general feeling of how it’ll go.”
I nodded. “Okay. But I think I have a pretty high threshold for pain.”
“You’re a figure skater, aren’t you? Your boyfriend told us when he came to book the appointment.”
My boyfriend. It sounded so weird, yet it also sounded right hearing those words. I’d spent years dreaming of the day when he would finally notice me, and now that it was here… I just couldn’t believe it.
“Yeah. I’ve had more broken bones and sprained ankles than most of my friends.”
She picked up a funny-looking machine from the table next to us and pressed on one of the buttons. Almost immediately the machine started buzzing, and weirdly enough, the buzzing did not sound annoying.
As a matter of fact, it was almost soothing as endorphins floated through my body.
Happiness.
I was fucking happy because he brought me here. I was happy that I got to do the first thing on my list. And as Phoebe pressed the needle to my skin, the small smile I had before just grew, even as the pain started spreading through my hand.
I couldn’t remember when the last time was that I was this happy.
My eyes were glued to the shape of the moon etched on my skin, while my heart galloped in my chest, both excited and sad. Both elated and terrified, because of what Noah said earlier.
If I was his sun, what would he do once he didn’t have it anymore? What would the planet Earth do if its sun suddenly disappeared?
“Noah,” I murmured as we exited the shop; his hand in mine and my heart in his hands.
He looked down at me, stopping all of a sudden in front of the door. I expected to see a smile, something that would tell me that he didn’t regret getting this tattoo with me, but nothing was there.
“Oh, no.”
“What?”
“You regret doing this.” I pulled my hand back and took a step backward.
“What? No. Sophie—”
“It’s fine. It’s okay. You can say it was a bet or some shit like that. I don’t want you to have a constant reminder going through your life about m—”
But my words were cut off, because in a matter of seconds, Noah stood in front of me, placed his hands on my cheeks, and pulled my face up. His lips clashed against mine, drowning out all the thoughts, my words, and all my worries.
Our teeth clashed against each other; his tongue licked over my bottom lip, eliciting a moan from me, just as his hand tightened at the back of my neck.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him down, needing him closer to me.
“Noah,” I panted when his lips descended down my throat, all the way to the space between my shoulder and my neck, moving my jacket to the side. “Fuck,” I cried out when his teeth clamped down on my skin, followed by his tongue, soothing the bite.
“I need you,” he grumbled. “I need you right now.”
His fingers tangled with my hair, pulling my head backward, while his lips feasted on my neck.
“Noah,” I moaned again, unable to think, only able to feel.
His touch, his scent, his need matching mine.
He grabbed my hand and started pulling me with him, walking much faster than before, all the way to the alley next to the shop. He looked to his right then to the left before taking us deeper and deeper until we came to the large dumpster.
His hands landed on my shoulders, pushing me to the wall, hiding us both from the view of the people passing on the street.
“Noah?”
“Bucket list, remember?”
I frowned at him, trying to recall what exactly he was talking about.
“I don’t—” But then it came. “Have sex in public.” I laughed. “For a moment there, I thought you went crazy.”
“I did. Looking at you in that chair, having to wait because I didn’t want us to miss out on our appointments… I almost carried you out of that shop.”
“I had to thank them.”
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure Leo is telling Phoebe how I am thanking you.”
“How are you—” With swift movements, he lifted my shirt over my chest, and placed both his hands on me, playing with my nipples over my bra. “Fuck.”
“Are you wet for me, Angel?” He licked the shell of my ear before biting my earlobe. “Should I check?”
“You really know how to drive me wild, huh?”
“It’s my specialty.”
“Stop talking, Noah, and fucking kiss me.”
He did more than kiss me. He bit and scratched; he tore off my clothes, letting them drop around us—and I did the same.
I pushed off the jacket he wore, and then lowered my hands, taking the hem of his shirt and pulling it up, over his head. I didn’t wait for him to go first. Instead, I started pressing open-mouthed kisses on his neck, over his collarbone, toward his chest, going lower and lower until I reached the happy trail leading to where I wanted to get.
I dropped down on my knees and started unbuckling his belt, when his hands landed on mine, halting me immediately.
“What are you doing?” I looked up, basking in the heat emanating from him.
“I’m taking what I want, Noah.” I shook his hands off of mine and unbuckled his belt. “And it’s you. I’ve been a good girl my entire life.” I unbuttoned his jeans and started pulling them down. “But I don’t want to be a good girl with you. I want you to dirty me up, make me wild, make me feel how it is to truly be desired.”
“Babe,” he started just as his dick escaped from the confines of his jeans. Already hard, ready for me. I wrapped my hand around him; smooth, both hard and soft. “Fuck,” he cursed as I started dragging my hand up and down his length.
He twitched beneath my touch, and the sounds from him urged me to go faster, harder. I licked my lips, the new need rising in me, and brought my face closer to him.
I opened my mouth wide and took him in. Before this day, it always seemed weird doing this. Some of the girls in school bragged about giving head as if it was the most rewarding thing in the world, and I couldn’t understand why.
Until now.
A weird kind of power woke up in me when he wrapped my hair around his fist, holding himself up with a hand on the wall.
“Fuuuuck,” he dragged out when my tongue flattened against the bottom part of his dick, licking the protruding vein there. “You’re gonna kill me with your mouth,” he groaned, slowly pushing his hips back and forth.
I looked up, training my eyes on his, and lifted my other hand to his balls.
“S-Sophie. Fuck. Me.”
I grinned around him and fondled his balls, while I bobbed my head in the rhythm of his hips, my tongue dancing around his shaft.
“That’s it. That’s it, darling.” He started increasing his pace. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I love your mouth.”
I hollowed out my cheeks just how Bianca talked about, and he rewarded me with another grunt.
No one ever talked about the amount of power we possessed when we did this, but as he got louder and more frantic, I figured that this might be one of my favorite things to do.
He suddenly pulled back and lifted me up. Without another word, my bra disappeared, and the pants I wore fell in a heap with our other clothes. My panties were next, and before I could even prepare myself, his hand was between my legs, going from my clit to my opening.
My eyes fluttered closed, and he pressed against me, his dick nestled between us.
“You’re dripping, baby.” His voice was deeper, raspier, and as he dipped one finger inside, a moan tore out of me. “God, I almost forgot how tight you are.”
“Noah!”
“I know, I know.” He pressed his lips to my cheek, while his fingers went in and out of me, pressing against that spot inside of me he now knew well. “I love these noises you’re making, darling. But I want you to scream for me. I want them to hear you.”
“W-Why?”
“Because I want them to know you’re mine. You will always be mine, no matter what.”
As he removed his fingers and replaced them with his dick, fulfilling yet another one of my fantasies, I had no doubt in my mind that if things were different, Noah Kincaid would be the man I would spend my life with.
21
NOAH
Days, hours, minutes, and seconds; they all passed by so quickly. It was as if I had just blinked, and the months passed me by. Time wouldn’t wait for us to catch up, I knew that, but every atom in my body wished that it could pass a bit slower.
Just a little bit slower.
Just to give me a few more minutes with her.
But she… She was fading in front of my eyes, and so did any hope I had. Sophie Anderson was slowly dying, and it was obvious to anyone who knew her from before.
Before this sickness took hold of her life. Before it destroyed everything.
I went back to my practices because she insisted, but I wasn’t there—mentally at least. My body knew what it needed to do, but my mind was constantly with her, worried that I wouldn’t be there if something happened.
Her doctors prescribed medicine to make her more comfortable, to alleviate her pain, but I had a feeling that they were doing more harm than good.
She tried hiding it, tried lying to all of us, but we could see what was really happening. Those four months they gave her were passing too fast, and she was slowly slipping through my fingers.
I’d tried holding on to her. Tried telling myself that things wouldn’t be that bad, but every time my eyes landed on her frail form, that courage I tried to build up would crumble down like a house of cards, and the pain would be back.
Sometimes it was easy to forget she was dying, but reality was a harsh bitch who came knocking at my door every time I tried to think positive. And how could I be positive when all of this was happening? Steering clear from the morbid forums where they talked about final days of cancer patients was becoming harder and harder to do.
We were coming to the end of May, to the end of high school, and while I should’ve been happy, should’ve been elated about the opportunity that was given to me, I couldn’t.
I couldn’t feel anything.
“Noah.” Sophie stirred next to me, and when I looked down, she started slowly opening her eyes, those dark circles becoming more and more prominent. “What time is it?”
“Around nine, Soph. Go back to sleep.”
A storm raged outside, reflecting how I felt.
“I think it’s better I get up.” She started pulling herself up. “I won’t be able to sleep through the night if I continue napping.”
Lies, lies, lies, they were all lies she created to make us all feel better.
These so-called naps were full sleeping hours, ranging from four to seven hours during the day, and even with those, she managed to sleep through the night—most of the time. But I could see the way her arms shook when she tried pulling herself up.
I could see her eating less and less, and sleeping more with each passing day.
I could see her disappearing and I couldn’t say a thing, afraid I would upset her, when that was the last thing I wanted to do.
It was fucked up being this angry and not having an outlet to direct this anger at. It wasn’t her fault, but as the days passed, as her strength weakened, I couldn’t stop gritting my teeth every time she wanted to just stay in bed and do nothing.
“Is it raining again?” She looked toward the window and placed her hand on my thigh. Even through the clothes I could feel how cold she was.
Even the warmth started slowly seeping away from her.
“Yeah.” I nodded. “It looks like we’re about to have a massive thunderstorm.”
Just as I said that a thunder boomed on the outside, shaking the entire house.
“You see.” I smiled, taking a hold of her hand. “Are you cold?”
“Nah.” She shrugged and kept looking toward the window. “I have an idea.” She turned toward me, that gleam back in her eyes, and even as pale as she was in that moment, she still looked like the most beautiful person I had ever seen.
“Oh, no.” I laughed. “I know that look in your eye. You’re thinking about doing something very stupid, aren’t you?”
“Not exactly stupid, no. But, I’m not sure if you would be up for this.”
“Just spit it out, Soph.”
“Well, remember my bucket list?” As if I could forget. Most of those things she wrote there were things that we wouldn’t get a chance of doing—skinny dipping, visiting the Grand Canyon and Colosseum, seeing the Northern Lights. All those were things she needed to travel for, and her doctors explicitly said that she wasn’t able to travel long distances anymore.
She got tired simply from walking lately, not to mention flying or climbing.
“I do.”
“So, it’s raining.” She looked at me expectantly.
“So it is.” I frowned. “Where are you going with this?”
“Noah.” She slapped my thigh and smiled. “Dancing in the rain? Remember?”
