Calais pulls back and studies my face. "Why are you crying?"
"Because you are here and yet, I feel like you are pushing me away," I say.
"I am not pushing you away."
"Then let me touch you!" I insist. "I want to touch you."
He loosens his fingers on my wrists. Still crying, I touch his cheeks, his neck, and his forehead. There are no emotions registering on his face. "I love you, Calais. Don't push me away."
"I am not pushing you away, Lyrica," he repeats, before his lips descend on mine again.
There is no rough kisses this time. It is sweet and gentle, as if he is taking care not to hurt me anymore. I pull back and shift positions with him. Now that I straddle him, I lean my ear against his chest. There is no hard thumping like what he does with my heart. I bury my face in his chest and grab at his shirt. His familiar smell is engulfing me. I missed him so much, but seems like, it's not the same with him.
