Chapter

Rosette sat on the bed with Caelum beside her. She faced him while he applied antiseptic on her bruised fingers.

She drew in a sharp breath as he touched the cotton to one of the deepest scratches.

"It stings right?" he said softly, "That's what you get for loving someone with unhealed wounds. Your love will make you stitch their cuts even if the needle pricks your skin before it touches theirs."

Rosette shook her head slightly, "When you're in love, the needle pricking your skin before theirs will also feel beautiful."

Silence hung heavily in the room as he carefully bandaged her fingers with gentle hands.

"What if this love is an illusion that you're living in?" he asked.

"Illusions don't feel this real Caelum." she smiled but it did not reach her eyes, "if anything then you are the biggest illusion in my world."

He kept quiet. He knew she wanted nothing more than answers.

She continued, "You don't love me, yet you won't let me leave.. can't tell me about yourself... What is this if not an illusion?"

"If I told you everything, would you be able to stay?" he asked, looking straight into her eyes.

Rosette could see the promise of darkness in his words. She was scared of what she might hear, but she didn't think anything could change the way she felt for him.

"And what if I leave? Will it matter? Won't you forget me in a week or two?" she replied with a small smile on her lips but the pain that that little curve hid was enough to fill a hundred oceans.

Caelum's soul scoffed at that question. 'Forget me' she said as if the ocean could forget the coast or a bird could forget the sky... as if his heart could forget hers.

His eyes softened, "I want to tell you this story without having to confess anything... I want to tell you this story without being in it."

Rosette swallowed her last bits of hesitation, "Throw the words out. I'll put them together if you can't."

He smiled at her words, but the smile flickered and burnt out as he started speaking,

"I.... I had an awful childhood." He said, "My dad was the head of the British mafia and my mom was a German winemaker's daughter," he fidgeted with Rosette's fingers that were still in his hands,

"My dad was cruel, very, very cruel and my mom,..... she was crueler." Rosette flinched at his words.

"My mom had spent her early years plucking ripe grapes and fermenting wine but then my dad ... did something awful to her that resulted in my birth. She had had her entire life crushed by that man and then crushed again by my birth because after me, her conservative parents proposed a marriage to which the heirless mafia obliged." He let out a deep breath, as he continued gravely,

"My mother hated me and found me responsible for the abuse she suffered. Mother's are humans, who sometimes give birth to their pain instead of children..." his voice became softer and heavier,

"And then Noah was born.. and the sight of two eligible heirs only drove him further into filth. He abused my mom and beat me up whenever he wanted.. Noah had to suffer since he was nine.."

He let go of her hands and dared not meet her eyes, for he could feel how dark they were.

"At the age of fifteen, I was introduced to the mafia... to bloodlust." He gulped, "I had been terrified the first time I held a gun, I wanted to throw it away before I could ever use it but I didn't. Instead, I used it and when I did, it became a part of me..."

Rosette had gone so still that the only sign of life were the small breaths she took every now and then.

"I killed people. It was as if I killed to confirm how others had it worse than me.. but it never helped. Life was still the pathetic mess it always was, until one day he killed my mom and almost blinded me with his own cigarette." His voice became the gravest dungeon.

"My grams saved me by shooting her own son in the gut." He drew in a sharp breath, "But that bastard managed to live and fled away. For a year I searched for him and when I finally found him, I made sure his death would make the darkest demons shiver..." his breath hitched as he said, "after all this, I left the mafia."

Caelum finally looked up and held her eyes, "I am a terrible person Rose. Can you still love me?" he asked.

When he called himself a terrible person, for a second she believed him. But then her foolish heart decided to realize how all of us think we are terrible people but we only reveal this before asking someone to love us.

She wanted to feel hatred. Shouldn't she feel scared? Why were all her feelings a mess? Why did pity surf her eyes instead of tears?

"Why ask me if I can love you? You think your past can change the way I feel?" she whispered, 'trust him' she repeated in her head.

He blinked and furrowed his brows in confusion, "I've killed people with the very hands you want to hold. Isn't that something that should change the way you feel?"

"We're all killers Caelum." she whispered again looking down at her own hands, "We've all killed parts of ourselves to survive. We've all got blood on our hands. Something somewhere had to die so we could survive."

"You do not want to love me Rose! What's wrong with you!?" he yelled standing up, "You can have a life out there.. find a-a lover and have a family but not here." Each word he spoke tore his heart a little more.

"You can't sell dreams to someone who had walked through nightmares." She smiled weakly, "Loving you has been one of the most human thing I've ever done Caelum.. let me be like that." her eyes filled as her lower lip quivered, "Take my body, rip out my heart, claw my insides, I don't care until I have you."

The tears slowly rolled down her cheeks like small stones before a landslide, as Caelum came forward and made her look up, by holding her chin,

"What if I cannot love you?" he asked, hoping she'd shed few more tears and slap him, hoping she'd turn away from his life. Hoping she'd get to live her life.

Her glassy eyes dropped into sadder arcs as she shook her head, "I know you cannot love me. It's okay if I'm not enough. It's okay if you need other women. I always knew how tainted I am, I know I cannot hope for love but can't I hope for warmth?" she sniffled looking into his confused eyes, "Can't you keep me until you're sick of me? I don't-,"

He fell to his knees in front of her and pressed his lips to hers, She collapsed against him. She sobbed into those tender lips of his. He softly kissed her, comforting her quivering lips.

Maybe they stayed like that for minutes or maybe it was a lifetime. He pulled away slowly, his fingers still caressing her cheeks. She opened her eyes and looked at his face.

Tears. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "I love you Rose. I've loved you for a long time. I could never imagine getting sick of you" he whispered as he put a hand on the back of her neck and pressed his forehead to hers, "Don't for a moment feel like you cannot be loved... You are everything anyone would want."

She closed her eyes as a whole river poured out of her eyes, she whispered, "You really love me?"

"More than life. I love you more than life Rosette. I-" his voice broke as his emotions and tears gushed through him, "You are everything I need, but I'm not what you need... I'm weaved with shadows and insane darkness.. How can you love me stupid girl?" he said sniffling softly.

"I'm lost in a sea of you.." she said placing her hand on his shoulder, "I'd rather drown in your shadows than swim in anyone else's light."

He kissed her eyes softly, placing few more kisses down her cheek as her eyes opened. She was still crying, little tears escaping those round eyes of hers.

"Make this feel real." She whispered, "Show me I'm not dreaming."

He smiled at her words and made his way to her lips. Slowly, very slowly he kissed her. Tasting the softness of her lips against his own. Carefully parting her petals his tongue pushed into her mouth tasting and navigating her depths.

The world had never felt so pink to Rose. She let him in and traced her tongue over his. Her arms gripped his shoulders tighter as her entire body turned limp and the only sound that echoed through her bones was the acceleration of her heart.

He deepened the kiss. His one hand tangled in her long curls while the other took the liberty of wrapping itself behind her neck.

They couldn't breathe, did not want to either. It just didn't feel important at the moment. They needed each other's warmth and touch to drive their senses giddy.

There was no terror clouding her features, just the sound of her heart loud enough for him to feel. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking a guilty peek at her every time he came back for air, just to make sure this wasn't a product of his imagination.

She found herself gasping, caught between an array of feelings, and trying to regain the sense in his arms.

"I love you." He mumbled against her lips.

"I love you." She replied in a breathless whisper.

Maybe this love was all wrong. Maybe....

But have you seen the hell in someone's eyes and loved it anyway? That's love.

A very dangerous love. Sometimes it feels like summer rain pouring over a green meadow as if it had the power to take away and give back life, while other days it felt like molten iron running down one's back, burning and shimmering the skin yet feeling warm.

Were they ready to feel the love they could offer? Were they ready to give up on their insecurities and ghosts? Could this love not be doomed?

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