I pause, my lungs halting, my heart restarting as I stay still, as if I just imagined them saying my name. Did they? Or is it their voice in my head again? When I was locked up, I always had conversations with them, but never real ones. I was losing my fucking mind and deluded myself into thinking they were lying beside me some nights.

“Malachi," they say again.

I try to move back, but they trap me by wrapping their legs around my waist, their lips parted as they erratically look at my eyes again. their shaky hand lifts, and I don't pull away as they slide the balaclava over my chin, my mouth, my nose, then removes it completely.

My black hair, long and falling over my eyes, catches their attention. they brushes their hand through it, their legs still tightly wrapped around my hips as a tear slips from the corner of their eye.

their gaze follows their fingers, dropping from my hair to trace one of my brows, down the side of my face to my jawline, grazing over the stubble to my lips.

Mesmerized.

Like they haven’t seen me in over eight years.

I mean, they hasn't, but I expected them to scream at me to get off them or hit me, to curse at me for what I've done not to do... this. they trace my facial features.

I'm letting them. Instead of making them pay for ruining nearly a decade of my life, I'm letting her touch me so freely, and I love it.

I'm all warm and tingly and I... like it.

their fingertips are soft. I've been so deprived of touch while being locked up that when their palm cups my check, I press against it.

"You can talk," they says, their bottom lip trembling. "You can... You can talk, Malachi”

I stare down at them, my lips moving but no sound coming out.

I shake my head then freeze all over when they lift her head and kisses me. their lips are so fucking smooth and addictive, and relax into the kiss and part my lips, allowing their tongue to slip into move against mine. Their taste, their fucking kiss I had no idea I needed it so much.