He shoots in me, warm daggers of love. He goes and goes, pouring his life and soul into me. We connect together and he pushes himself deeper. He lets go of my wrists. I throw my arms around him. We are one. Forever.
Our lips crash against each other. We close our eyes. We are in love.
When the feeling dissipates, we open our eyes, still kissing one another. He kisses against my neck and releases. Like a cocky son of a bitch, he winks and jumps out of bed to grab a bowl of strawberries. He comes back to bed and sprawls out, looking as comfortable as ever.
“Strawberry?” he asks, holding it above my mouth.
I curl my tongue around the red fruit and pull it into my mouth, biting the tip. “I love you, Soren,” I say. “Way too much. You know that?”
“I love you too, city girl.” He smiles and kisses me again.
“Call me strawberry,” I tell him. “Forever.”
“I love you too, strawberry,” he says.
“You really mean it?” I look at his scars and know that he does. I’d be stupid not to know it, but I want to hear it from him. I adore hearing it from him.
“I’ll take a million bullets for you. It doesn’t matter how many. I’d gladly give my life to keep you living,” he says it without having to think.
“You’re going to be a good father,” I tell him. It’s the truth. I just have this feeling.
“I hope so,” he says.
“You will,” I assure him. “You’re a fighter. You live for challenges.”
“No,” he laughs. “But I do live for you.”
From California to Colorado, and back to California again. Sometimes love follows the strangest routes. To find love, you really have to find yourself first. Soren and I found that out the hard way, unfortunately. There was the loss of life, the loss of innocence, and the loss of tempers, but I wouldn’t trade anything to go back to where I was back then, before I met him on the side of the highway.
I’ve never been so satisfied with someone. I’ve never felt so at ease and at peace. Sometimes you have to wade through the battlefield to find it.
He’s my man, dammit. That’s never going to change.