She was still crying, even as they kissed. Those cold, bitter sort of tears that somehow manage to spring from the very depths of your heart when you think that there's no way that you could possibly cry any more. She could taste the salt of them in their kiss as they ran down her cheeks and she parted her lips desperately beneath his own.
In the same way that she'd needed to strike him and hit him and hurt him...she needed this now. She needed the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms and the feel of his fingers in her hair. She needed the firm pressure of his lips against hers and the feel of his tongue as it tentively brushed across hers just before she rose to meet him. She needed his taste. And his smell. And the feel of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips that rest against the base of his neck, drawing him into her.
She needed him.
For just this one moment, her heart nothing more than a bunch of shattered pieces held outstretched to him in her palms, she needed him.
Needed to pretend. Just to pretend it would all be okay.
But as he finally began to pull back from her and she lost the feel of his lips against hers, she knew there would be no pretending that would come from this. She couldn't pretend that what had just taken place hadn't happened - and she couldn't pretend that somehow that one kiss had suddenly magically solved everything, as it could only in the movies.
There was no pretending here as he softly leaned his forehead down against hers and she found that her eyes remained lowered away from his.
No pretending here. There was only him. And there was only her.
And there was only this reality.
This couldn't be.
She'd stopped crying now and the tremors that had racked their way through her body had now managed to still. Her forehead still pressed against his own, she gave a quiet sniff, not daring to venture a look up at him just yet lest she should find herself lost in those eyes. Her body was still held tightly against his own, her one hand still held against the back of his neck while the other kept a grip against the material of his shirt. Her eyes remained closed as they both sat there, gasping for breaths and frantically trying to figure out what had just taken place between them and what the consquences of it would ultimately be.
She knew she should say something - but no words seemed to come. Her lips parted and she took a breath as though to speak...but there was nothing. There was so much that needed to be said...and so much that needed to be left unsaid.
Ultimately, the only words that managed to escape were a quiet, "Don't leave me."
Was that a broken plea for the present moment - or a heartfelt cry for whatever future they may yet hold? Even she wasn't entirely sure. All she knew was that she couldn't let him go. Not just yet. Given a few more minutes and a chance to calm her turbulent emotions, she could...but right now she feared she might be completely lost if he were to pull away from her. In a beautiful moment of irony, she needed his silent strength in order to fight back the hurt he'd caused her.