Chapter 14 – They Lied. - by Writewithoma

They lied. Every single person who had ever described this to me, every film, every book, every knowing smile from someone who'd been there before every last one of them lied. It was not magical. It was not seamless. It did not feel like something clicking into place the way people made it sound, that cinematic perfection of two people finally arriving somewhere they were always supposed to be. It hurt. It hurt in a way I was not prepared for, in a way that made me dig my fingers into his back and squeeze my eyes shut and breathe through my teeth while he stilled completely above me, voice tight with concern, asking if I was okay, if he should stop, if he'd hurt me. "Don't stop," I said, through my teeth. "You're crying." "I'm aware." "Then I should" "If you stop right now I will actually kill you." He didn't stop. He moved slowly, carefully, checking my face every few seconds with an expression that was trying to be calm and not entirely succeeding. I kept my eyes closed for most of it. Focused on breathing. Focused on the warmth of him, the solidness, the fact that this was him and I had chosen this and the pain was just a door. Something to walk through.It eased. Gradually, then more. The sharp edge of it softened into something that still ached but differently duller, warmer. More bearable. Afterward, I lay on my back staring at the ceiling, and he lay beside me, propped on one elbow, watching my face with an expression I didn't have a name for. "Are you okay?" he asked. "I'm fine." "Are you actually fine or are you saying you're fine?" I considered. "Both." He was quiet for a moment. Then, gently: "You were crying." "Yes, I noticed, thank you for the reminder." "I'm just" "I'm fine," I said again, softer this time. "I promise. It just" I exhaled. "Everyone said it was going to be nice." He blinked. "And?" "And they lied." I turned my head to look at him. "Everyone lied. Extensively. With great confidence." Something shifted in his expression. For a moment I thought he was going to say something serious, something careful and considerate that I was going to have to sit through. Instead he pressed his lips together very hard. "Don't," I warned. He laughed anyway. He tried not to he genuinely tried but it came out low and helpless and then I was laughing too, reluctantly, still mildly outraged, lying there on his bed feeling thoroughly lied to by every person I'd ever known. He pulled me close when the laughter settled, tucked me against his chest, pressed his lips to my forehead and left them there for a moment. "It gets better," he said quietly. "I promise." I made a sound that was not quite believing him. But I stayed where I was, curled into the warmth of him, and let him hold me while the ache faded slowly into something that almost felt like peace.

Forbidden Love Story

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