RATED M. Emori and John are in the Mansion on Becca's Island before Praimfaya. RATED M. Review and enjoy! RATED M. This one is rated M for the last part. If you don't want to read it, don't read the last three paragraphs. But it's not explicit, just part of the story.
I have wanted to say this. It sounds so stupid. I should have just told her already. It's just that some small part of me wishes that she would say it first. Maybe then I wouldn't have to think about this so much.
I mean really, if there were ever a survivors move, this would be the opposite of that. If she thinks the same, we are in trouble. We already care about each other. I am about to add even more weakness on our situations. It's not like we need any more of that.
Emori is standing in the kitchen with me. I turn around to face her. She is putting some preservative food away. I watch her hands work. I watch her back lean over the counter. Her head titled just enough for her to see what she is doing. I see how she so skillfully is able to use her large deformed fingers.
They call her Fikdreina. I call her beautiful.
"What?" she asks as she looks over at me. "You look as if you have seen a ghost. We are at war but I don't think that there could ever be that kind of war."
I walk to her, standing right in front of her. I can feel my heart beating in my chest. It almost hurts. I want it to go away. This is so dumb. I should just forget about the whole thing. But then I look into those dark eyes and I can't. The feeling is too strong to forget.
"What is it, John?" she asks, reaching out with her ungloved hand. But I want all of her. I take her other hand too. She frowns when I do this but I look right into her eyes.
"Why do you hate it so much?" I ask. "I mean…it's not like it matters here."
"I was trained to hide my entire life. I still feel like I have to hide sometimes," she admits. Her vulnerability doesn't make me uncomfortable in ways that other peoples does. I even squeeze her hand a little, kissing her forehead.
"You don't have to hide anything from me," I tell her. "Nothing."
I am really hoping that she says it first. But there is no nervousness in her body like there is in my own. She has probably never even thought about it before.
She can tell that I am thinking about something too much. She squints her eyes down.
"Is it a survivors move?" she asks.
"What is?"
"Whatever it is that has you lost like Fikdreina in Polis," she says with a small, evil laugh. I know that she is serious though. She does want to know. She always manages to get out of me whatever it is that I won't tell her. I still have not figured out how she does it.
"Not really," I tell her.
"Well then you probably shouldn't do it," she says.
That's a dagger.
She sees my eye roll and confusion so she grabs my arm and turns me around to face her again.
"Unless of course, it's important," she says again, clearly rethinking her last efforts. It scares me.
"John, maybe whatever it is isn't a survivors move, but it is necessary. Sometimes truth needs to be told, even if it isn't just for the sake of surviving out here," she explains.
She shows all of her teeth when she smiles. I have to smile back at her, knowing that whatever it is, I can't hide it from her and I don't want to. I want to share everything with her. Forever. That means that as long as we have to survive on this terrifying, horrible, gruesome planet, we have to do it together.
"We were just stealing from Trikru on the streets. We survived A.L.I.E. We'll survive Praimfaya too."
"And if we don't?" I ask, diverting from the weird bubbles in my chest that are really starting to concern me now.
"We will. It's what we do."
I nod, pulling her toward the steps. She grins and raises her eyebrows. She follows me as I lead her to the bedroom. I slip out of my shoes as she does the same. She walks into the room first as I stand by the door frame, staring at her beauty.
I don't want to hold this in anymore. She deserves to know. Emori is facing the wall, pulling the bandana off of her head and setting it on the nightstand. I smile and decide that the bubbles are too weird. I might as well just tell her.
This is stupid. So stupid.
"I love you."
She stands completely still. I get worried for a second, maybe even scared but then decide that the whole thing was just dumb. I can feel my face turn red before she turns around. But it is not what I expected. She has a smile on that perfect face of hers.
"Did John Murphy just say I love you?" she asks.
"Yeah…yes." I pause. "I love you, Emori."
She walks toward me and holds out her hands. Her glove is off. I can really see her now.
"I love you, John," she says back.
And I think might heart actually melts in my chest.
But I don't have time to think about it. Instead, I grab her around her shoulders and pull her in to kiss me. We kiss for several seconds before I am grabbing her body and lifting her hips onto me. I push her onto the dresser, taking her layers of clothes off. Without a thought for anything but her, I pull the last article of clothing from her chest and put my hands on the perky beauties that are before me.
I press myself against her, pulling her back to the bed. She pulls my shirt from my body and then starts unbuttoning my pants. I don't have to get the idea. I pull them off and then go back to her. She is waiting for me, looking perfectly still and needy.
I bite my lip as I breathe deeply against her soft skin, kissing her all over that body. I make her mine, taking the rest of her boundaries off before laying her down underneath of me.
There is no climax of pleasure that anyone could feel except for that of the kind when you are unsure if you are ever going to have it again. I watch her face. I feel her back arch in ecstasy. I hear her moans of pure pleasure. And in our last moments, I look right into her eyes, holding her still with my arm under her body and her legs around my waist.
"I love you, Emori," I tell her with complete confidence.
She smiles at me.
"I love you too."
And our love is completed, falling over each other in perfect bliss.
