His lips leave a single kiss to (what he would later acknowledge is his favorite part of her) the back of her neck. She moans, struggling somewhere in between sleep and waking up, as if knowing that being awake in his arms is much, much harder than sleeping in that same sacred place without a single heavy thought on her mind, just dreams of another life she never got to live. Then, she is awake. A sting of clarity hits her hard.
"Rufus... Don't."
The glitch in her voice gives away that the last thing she wants is for him to stop. He sees right through it, stops just for a second, waits while the weakening of her will unravels, and draws a lone finger up her arm to her shoulder where he meets it with lips.
"You have to stop."
It's barely audible and even though he hears it, he chooses to ignore it.
"We..." she moans, "have to stop. We shouldn't be doing this."
"You shouldn't be naked here in my bed either but here you are."
He continues a trail from her shoulder down her side kissing, pausing where each rib is.
"Rufus, please..."
She shifts around towards him but does not look up because it's hard (harder than last night even) to resist the urge to kiss him and hide herself in the slight dip between his head and shoulder.
"Look at me." He lifts her chin softly to meet her gaze. "Tell me to stop and i will."
She meets his gaze; disoriented, lost in flashes of memory of the things he did to her last night. He knows this look a little too well, and wants to relieve some of the burden of her shoulders but knows perfectly well that in the end it will be her call like always.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asks again.
A scream of confidence echoes even after he finishes the sentence but she doesn't pay attention to it, busy regarding him closely, thinking of a lifetime ago when moments like these, two of them merely inches apart waking up wrapped in each other, talking and mostly not talking, moaning and screaming, were a an everyday morning routine. It would begin the same way it did this morning, with softest kisses but something tells her the end might not be quite the same.
"I don't."
She pulls him in until every inch of her naked body is covered by his, and kisses him putting everything she has into it.
"I don't want you to stop, but i need you to."
"Is it him?"
He looks at the rock on her finger, and feels a dull ache in his chest, one that settled in a long time ago, but has never truly faded away after she left with another man, another lifetime ago. He almost feels suffocated, because occupied hands and lips kept him looking the other way, every time that same rock caught moonlight the night before. It seems even bigger now, shinier and he wishes he can take it off her hand.
"No..." It's the bigger piece of the truth, but a part of her knows she will marry Bart anyways and she pleads for an understanding knowing full well that she doesn't deserve it. Doesn't deserve him, either.
"They are in love, Rufus. I will not be my mother."
"They are kids, they are too young..."
Oh and we weren't? Is that why we are here twenty years later? Because we were just kids, too young to know what forever is?"
She manages a small laugh to mask the tremble of her voice because really, what is the alternative? She tries so hard not to cry in front of him. He doesn't say anything.
"I have to go, it's day... As in, my wedding day."
"Right... Congratulations. So it's happening?"
"Rufus... "We will pick this up someday; she wants to tell him, but honesty isn't her strong suit. Telling promises she can't keep on the other side is where she excels. He deserves better. So she makes a note to herself that one day she will come to him. Not the other way around. She doesn't say it out loud, of course; instead she closes her eyes and feels warm lips pressing on her forehead.
"I understand" is all he says. And he honestly thinks he does but this is it, the fight for her ends here.
"Just stay for a little bit with me".
And so she does, curls up to him knowing well that this is his sort of goodbye.
She cries.