On the Moon

“Do you want the moon? I’ll give you the moon! Anything. Name it. It’s yours.”

I watched his beautiful lips move as he spoke in earnest. He was serious, of course. He always was.

“You stole that from a movie.” I sighed and cocked my head to the side, staring at him like a loyal Labrador.

“I’m serious,” He insisted, resting his hands on my shoulders and shifting me so that he could look me in the eyes.

This of course meant I had to tilt my head back and rock on the balls of my feet to look him in the eye.

One of the things I loved about him. He was so much bigger than me but we always fit together like two puzzle pieces, nonetheless.

I woefully pondered the choices that had led me to this point in my life and dropped my head to stare at my boots.

Life choices that now had my entire future hinging on the moon. How the hell did we even end up having this conversation.

“This is stupid.” I muttered under my breath, hating myself because I always felt like a petulant child for simply wanting to feel loved.

“I don’t want the stupid moon. I want you to stop lying to me. I want you to do the things you say you’re going to do. I want you to not break promises to me. I want you to pay attention to me. The moon be damned!” I burst out in a rush, pulling away from him.
His callused hands cupped my face on either side as he ever so gently lifted my head to gaze into my eyes again.

I gritted my teeth against the instant rush of heat that covered my entire body like a blanket at his touch. I hate him. I hate that. I hate that he knows he can do that. I hate that the stupid moon hangs above us now, illuminating his beautiful features in an ethereal light and causing his golden gaze to seem even more wolfish than usual. I hate the sincerity in his voice and in his touch.

“I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I don’t want to. You deserve better. I want to be better. For you. For us. Teach me how to love you and I swear on everything that I will give it to you. I want to give you everything. You are everything.” His voice was rough with the unshed tears that shined in his eyes.

Oh, I hate him. I hate the tug of my body trying to press itself into his. I hate the smell of his body wash and HIM. I hate the scruffy in need of a shave curve of his jaw. I hate those lips that my fingers itch to trace. Most of all I hate that I hate none of those things but I do hate that I am in this place. Again.

I swallowed the tears choking me and forced myself to speak, my voice barely above a whisper. “You swear it.”

“I swear it.” He whispered back. “I swear it, on the moon.”
“On the moon.” I repeated, tilting my head to gaze at the night sky, feeling the single tear roll down my cheek.

By L.E.

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