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The walk back was quiet. Snow crunched under their feet, footprints mingling together and breaths fogging in crisp cold air. You held his cold hand dearly, guiding him half a pace behind you. Your fingers flexed once in a while on their own accord, your subconscious fear of him letting go transferring to every part of your body, from toes to pads of fingers, muscles tense and ready to spring into action as if he could let go at any moment and just disappear into the night, pair of your footsteps becoming only yours. You could hear his breaths, his long legs following yours obediently, albeit maybe a little lost. You held on tighter again, your hands locked together. No matter what he thought of doing before you found him, none of it is going to happen. Not with you beside him.
Streets of Linkon City were mostly empty at this hour, making your trek peaceful in a weird way. You’d usually start a conversation by now, tell a story or two about a stray cat you saw the other day, or how there was a new coffee place that opened recently next to Hunters Association, and some of your colleagues have been complimenting beverages there, along with a chocolate dessert, the one that was gooey and sweet on the inside, staining your mouth and fingers when you took a bite (Zayne would get the hint and next time both of you were free enough for a lunch together he’d get those sweets for both of you, he would pretend to be annoyed when taking out paper napkin and wouldn’t let your grabby hands reach for it, opting instead to clean your face himself, angling it left and right with a pinch to your chin. His eyebrows would be furrowed slightly, but amusement would glint in his eyes and corners of his lips would be raised in an almost shy smile. Small enough only for you to notice.) But instead you are both silent. The weight of things you want to say to each other is too much to just start a conversation.
Your hastily thrown on your body coat was unbuttoned, scarf that Zayne had gifted you looped once around your neck and hanged awkwardly with one end longer than the other. You didn’t think at all when you bolted from Akso, your heart too torn and on brink of collapse from thoughts and possibilities swirling in your mind. With you running around what felt like the whole city, pushing your legs and lungs to work overtime despite barely cooperating from just waking up injured, your head was so full with worries that you barely noticed exhaustion. It was catching up to you now, you could feel it in the way your knees shook and chest stuttered mid-breath. You felt Zayne tense behind you, hovering a little closer, but not reaching to support you by your middle like he would’ve done just a few days ago. It made you blink slightly faster, tears not quite reaching your eyes, except for the feeling of something heavy and painful getting stuck in your throat, making you try to swallow it. It didn’t go away.
You approached front gate of your apartment complex. Squeezing Zayne’s hand with your left, you were left to rummage through pockets with only your right one. Key card was in left pocket of your coat, and you reached clumsily to dig for it. Zayne remained still, watching you struggle. You almost opened your mouth to tease him, but your tongue sat heavy and dry, choking your attempt at normalcy.
You got the key and swiped it, gate beeped open.
You didn’t linger, making a beeline to an elevator. Yours and his boots were probably leaving wet trail behind, and you would both usually stomp at the entrance to shake the snow away, but right now it felt like such a distant act that the passing thought of being messy didn’t urge you to act more dignified and thoughtful.
When you both stood in an elevator it felt like a fleeting moment to gather your bearings. You didn’t know what you were going to do when Zayne is delivered to your home, you just had a consuming desire to bring him back into space you both felt safe at. To hide him away from woes and not let him slip away, leave like before. You tightened your jaw defiantly. No, he’s not leaving, he can’t. Doesn’t he know how it will affect you? What it will do to him? He knows, he must be aware of it by now. The idea that he still chose this despite knowing what it means for the both of you feels like a rip in your chest. At this point physical and emotional pain is so intertwined together, nerves wired and tangled in knots, that it’s impossible to discern if what you’re feeling in your body is a physical manifestation of mental strain, or it’s just consequences of injuries you’ve sustained.
In blurry reflection on elevator’s doors his tall and dark form stood behind you, face impossible to recognize in fogged image. For a second you became afraid that this is what memory of Zayne will deteriorate into – a faceless person, your mind trying to replicate his features, school them into something you once could recognize with pads of your fingers only, now but a recollection of a figure that left his indents in your very soul, shaping to fit his perfectly. A soul kin that might just disappear, like it wouldn’t leave you aching for the rest of your life. You huffed quietly and turned your eyes away from his reflection just as elevator signaled for a stop at your floor.
Lock to your apartment door snapped open with the press of your thumb to the sensor and you didn’t waste any time inviting yourself into your home and dragging Zayne right after you. He closed the door behind him and you looked around. You didn’t reach for a switch, moonlight on a snowy night providing enough light to see clearly enough. Shrugging off your boots you turned around to see Zayne bend down to place his own shoes on a rack, before he straightened and looked you in the eyes. It was the first time you’ve looked at him since your last conversation at the cemetery. He had snow on his hair and some on the broad of his shoulders. Pursing your lips, you’ve met his gaze. He returned eye contact, only to look to the side, turning his head. A familiar gesture of his that endeared you before. To you back then it was nothing more than a rare showcase of shyness, but after much time together you’ve come to understand what it truly entailed. A fact you were ignorant about, but should’ve paid more attention to – his fear. Fear of losing himself in you completely, surrendering control and inviting risk at the doorstep. Nightmares that plagued him his entire life returning, this time in the flesh, doing something that cannot be undone.
With a sigh you shook off the snow from his shoulders, and then reached on your tiptoes to do the same on his hair. Zayne bent down, ever the gentleman, and you safely cleaned melting snowflakes. The urge to mess his slightly wet locks was strong, and you’ve decided to give in this time. A breath escaped you as you combed through his hair, your muscles relaxing. He had already unbuttoned his thick coat and shrugged it off his shoulders, and when you were done slipping your fingers through his raven hair, he had already hanged his clothes. His fingers twitched at his sides.
Undressing yourself, you were left in a simple sweater that was provided by Zayne as a change of wear for when you’d wake up.
“Come.” You half whispered, taking his arm and backing away towards your bedroom with your face still turned to him. He followed reluctantly, barely moving his legs.
“We shouldn’t,” his calm tone washed over you, despite his rebuttal you instantly felt a little better. “I should leave.”
You tugged a little more insistently and summoned a weak crook to your lips. “No use saying this when you are already here. Or were you not with me when I was leading you home? Come.”
Your room was illuminated by moonlight, it’s white light falling down on your bed like a blanket. Stuffed plushies you’ve won with Zayne at the arcade were scattered on different surfaces of furniture, but your favorite few were sitting snuggly beside two pillows. You usually stayed at Zayne’s place, because it’s where he headed to after his long shifts at the hospital, but in rare moments when he was the one to stay overnight at your place you secretly felt delighted. Seeing him in your space felt intimate, the way he always held one of the plushies in his hands if he happened to sit on your bed or a sofa, or when his tall frame would fit into your little kitchen, easily reaching all the high cupboards, gave you a sense that this is where he belonged. Despite how he was perceived by many – cold and aloof man, always in some shade of grey or black, him being in your little space, your little world, was like a puzzle that clicked together satisfactorily and refused to budge, come apart as easily as others and refused to let go. Or, at least, that’s how it felt to you before he suddenly started to slip away.
It left a bitter taste in your mouth. The way he left when you were young without explanation, with just a little gift to remember him by, a gift you have misunderstood for so many years. And when he went to the arctic, disappearing for a few days and ringing all the alarm bells in your head, you found him staggering and weakened in clusters of wanderers. If you haven’t come, what were the chances he’d get out of there alive? With everything that had happened recently, and taking into account what he had said to you back then, would he just… be content to die there? Thinking that this is his way of redeeming his mistakes, only knowledge that you’re waiting for him stopping him from succumbing to his guilt completely?
You threw Zayne on the bed. Back of his legs hit the wooden support and he fell on his back and elbows. You weren’t forceful enough to cause discomfort, but you hoped that from this little action he had gathered that you were resolved. Zayne looked up at you, swallowing thickly and looking away again after a few seconds of holding eye contact with you. He shifted to move further on the bed, angling his legs on plush covers, just as you have started to climb onto it yourself.
At last you hovered over him, dim light making his eyes appear dark and transforming his gaze into a more intense one. He remained silent beneath you, his visage uncertain, like he was in two places at the same time. One part of him was right where it wanted to be the most – next to you, touching you, holding you close, the other was already out of the door, as far away from you as possible, never touching, never looking and preferably not breathing the same air as you. Your closure - the one thing he desired the most, felt like a wish across lifetimes and also his greatest punishment. Torn in so many pieces, his hands struggled to find purchase, and thus resigned to squeeze sheets under his palms.
“Zayne,” you started, “…is this truly what you think is the best option?” Your voice was so small compared to how it usually is, and it caused Zayne’s eyes to flicker from yours to the side again. Having enough of him evading you, you took hold of his cheek and turned his face towards you.
He still didn’t look you in the eyes, instead choosing to lower his gaze, sticking to your collarbone. With you above him, your already loose sweater was hanging off of you and exposing what hid under. Bandages covered your chest, right where his ice struck you. Phantom smell of blood filled his nostrils and he breathed in shakily, his resolve crumbling and surrendering to you once more.
“I can’t hurt the one I love, not again.” He met your gaze finally and you held his cheeks in both of your hands, gently trapping him where he couldn’t hide away. His lips quivered slightly as he continued. “I’m not ready to carry this much guilt.”
Faint frost spread on his neck, the room growing colder by the second. You lowered your hand to touch the ice there, not flinching when it bites pads of your fingers. Zayne had been your pillar of strength and support ever since he became part of your life again. Even at your lowest, when you hid away and clawed at your face and hair from hollow pain of loss, he never stepped away from you. Always beside you, always a call away. No matter how busy, how tired or stressed, he made time for you over and over again, and so did you for him. It wasn’t an easy relationship, but you made it work, because you both wanted it to. So why now, when Zayne needs as much support as possible, he refuses to let you be his sanctuary? You would do this for him and more if he only let you, if he didn’t close himself off, scatter away from your touch and care. The answer was visual, it was in his eyes.
Fear.
It’s a fear you thought you have started to defeat. A beast you’ve tried to tackle over and over again, until Zayne have started to let himself believe that there isn’t a fear strong enough you can’t chase away. When he awoke from nightmares, drenched and cold at the same time, you were already on him, pushing his head to your chest and letting your heartbeat and fingers soothe him back to sleep, and when you weren’t beside him you’d text him in the middle of the night, your sense of foreboding telling you he needs it right now, as if you both were attuned to each other just like that.
And now he’s letting this fear consume him again and you were torn between feeling betrayed and hurt and understanding where he’s coming from. You know his logic and the way he thinks, just like he always predicts your actions and smoothes out the consequences. Dawnbreaker, Benedict and everything that happened after and years before that pushed him to make a choice he thinks will save as many people as possible, and most importantly – save you, despite how it breaks him to step on that path. But from what you’ve seen, it isn’t the only way. It’s not the right decision for him or anyone else. Your gaze hardens in determination.
“You’re not leaving, Zayne. I’m not letting you go.” Your fingers skim across his neck, ice growing upwards on his skin. “Do you think I haven’t seen it? The way you keep to yourself every time there’s trouble, every time you’re hurting. Do you think I am unable to help you?”
You can see pain glisten in his eyes, the way he wants to deny your claim, but deep down he knows that you are half right. He doesn’t think you to be unable, quite the opposite, he knows there is nothing that won’t bend to your will if you put your whole weight to it, but he is reluctant to let you handle his pains. Not if it means you become entangled in this mess he has been dealing with his whole life, especially since major crack, the very moment his life took a turn, happened with you at the center of it. The sight of your crumpled form on the ground, bleeding and unmoving, haunted him for years. Deep down he hopes it never stops to cause so much pain, to make sure he always remembers how a tiny slip can destroy what he treasures most – like a flower that dies the moment cold winds start to howl.
You clutch his collar as your fingers slip down and your whole body sags, pressing your forehead to his shoulder. You shake slightly and squeeze your eyes shut to compose yourself. How much will it take for him to see that you want him as much as he wants you, how much it pains you to just think that he can be gone, off to gods know where. His smell fills your senses and you mourn. How can you live if you won’t be able to touch him again? To feel his scent cling to you or your pillow, your clothes, persist on your own skin where you have touched each other in a frenzy. An involuntary wet sniffle escapes you and the next second you feel his arms on you, circling your middle and pushing you to lie on top of him, shifting you so that your nose now tucks in the crook of his neck where his smell is stronger.
“If this is your version of saving me… I don’t want any of it.” Your voice comes out slightly muffled, but Zayne hears it clearly. Your desperate fingers squeeze his collar tighter as your voice breaks halfway. “There isn’t a life of mine that wishes to be away from you.”
Zayne gathers air in his lungs and rubs his nose on your temple. “You think this is easy for me?” He pushes you tighter into himself before continuing.
“You don’t know… how much you did for me. I have never wanted anything as deeply as I want you, but in order to keep you alive I have to make sure I can’t hurt you. My feelings have always been deep, so deep that I was afraid to ever acknowledge them, much less let them out.” Zayne’s fingers dig into your sides and you hear his voice shake, something you have never wanted to witness, and now memory of pain hidden beneath it will be engraved in your memory of him. “I thought I will be able to control it. And when I realized that it’s an impossible task when you’re involved, my walls have started to come down.”
You felt your world twist as Zayne rolled you both on the bed, becoming the one on top, and at this moment something wet shyly caught light in the corner of his eye. With growing distress you’ve realized that this is the first time you’ve seen Zayne cry.
“Look what you do to me,” he rasped, his hazel eyes glittering like gems and Adam’s apple moving when he swallows, “Of course I don’t want to go. If I could…” His shaky fingers cupped your cheek, thumb grazing the underside of your eye, catching a tear you didn’t even notice escaped, “…I would never leave your side ever again.”
Your arms hooked around his neck, a sense of déjà vu flowed through you when you pulled Zayne down in a bruising kiss. An urge to feel his taste on your tongue was so strong that you shook with it. Zayne felt your legs lock onto his hips to push him down, his entire weight now on top of you. Your lips stuck to his, and when you both slightly parted for air, you didn’t let him catch his breath easily and swiped your tongue across his plush redness, making him involuntarily open up to you to catch your tongue with his.
Making out with Zayne has always been one of your favorite activities. The way he’d gasp and breathe into your mouth, sometimes give you kitten licks or straight up assault your mouth with his made your legs weak and eyelashes flutter. He was always hungry for you, and you would always be happy to provide him with what he needs most. In instances you’d be the one to initiate kissing he’d let you lead for a moment, before he’d wake up from his stupor and take you by surprise with his eagerness. This little act of push and pull have followed your relationship in many ways, but it was the most prominent when you kissed. And now it felt especially consuming, raw and unrestrained. He was conflicted, bare before you despite being fully clothed, and in your mind you have silently thanked him for trusting you so much. The ball was now in your yard and you knew you had to be clear with your feelings towards him.
When you both moved away slightly to breathe your hand shifted to cup his cheek tightly, surging forward and licking at the corner of his mouth where some of your combined saliva escaped. With one last nibble to his lip you parted, your legs coiling tighter around his hips to push him harder down. Your breaths mingled as you spoke and gazed into his eyes.
“I should’ve been more open with you. Let me put it into words…” Your other hand that still tightly held onto his shoulder tightened it’s grip, wrinkling his clothes. “No matter how afraid you are of giving in, of bringing harm to people, I will always be happy to have you.”
You shifted, trying to convey with your eyes how sincere you are.
“Zayne, being alone isn’t what’s going to save us. Weren’t you the one to say that you won’t let the person you love be brave on her own? Do you think I will let you be brave on your own in return? If I have decided to leave, would you just let me go?” You licked your lips, catching his expression turn tense. “If you want me to beg for you to stay and listen, I will. No matter what happens next, how scary it can be, you are not going to be alone to face it. If I have to travel across the world ten times over to find you, I won’t hesitate. Danger follows you and me closer than before, if we separate now – do you think it’s going to disappear?”
Zayne’s eyes turned thoughtful. He hesitated before replying. “If I leave, the danger will become less for you.”
“Who said that it’s true? I may drop dead tomorrow…” His face took subtle change, becoming sour, and you mentally scolded yourself for going about it this way, but it has to be said. “The best shot we have at keeping each other safe is being in each other’s arms. What shall I do without my doctor? And all the other patients you have? All those people you’ve saved time and time again.”
You kissed his jaw, his chin, before closing your eyes and rubbing your nose on his cheek.
“You may believe your hands are those of a killer, but,” moving again, you made Zayne look directly into your eyes, your ears burning red from sincerity, “To me, those hands are the ones that held mine and many other hearts, keeping them safe and protected. You became a doctor to save lives, to go against your fears of becoming someone who takes instead of gives.”
An unreadable emotion crossed Zayne’s expression, the one you haven’t seen on him before. You could see his façade unguarded and honest and it made your already thundering heart beat faster. Focusing your gaze again you continue, your voice slightly quieter.
“I love you, Zayne, all of your scars and things you don’t tell me about. I love your golden heart, your patience, your ability to sympathize with others, your devotion towards helping those in need. I love how you patiently sit through my origami lessons, so that you can make children in pediatrics smile and be braver for their families, how you help elderly patients, making sure they aren’t left alone if they don’t have any family left.” Your hold on Zayne’s shoulder relaxes and you pull him closer once more, your noses touching and brushing against each other. “You are my greatest treasure, Doctor Zayne.”
You feel your eyes become moist again and you blink your tears away, but your expression still crumbles despite your efforts. “My only wish is that you’d let me help you too. Just like we did this whole time, I’ll hold your hand just a little tighter, and we will push through, even if it isn’t easy.” You lean in, the last thing you say barely a whisper. “As long as we are together.”
Your lips touch again, this time slow and tender. Zayne shakily takes a breath in, his chest tightly pressed to yours, your heartbeats beating in tandem. Where his heart skips a beat, your follows, filling the silence of beats, so that neither of hearts truly remain on their own.
Your wet cheeks slide against each other and silent pearl-like tears that glisten and gather in corners of his eyes don’t seem so terrifying anymore, because Zayne’s gaze catches yours with an expression you grew familiar with. Warm and tender, he looks at you before blinking his eyes closed and pressing his forehead against yours. He’s so, so warm, and his embrace tells you everything his voice fails to. It’s solid and grounding, and Zayne isn’t letting go.