Part VI
She lay with her head and her shoulders propped up on the pillow against the bedstead, one leg pulled up and the other one stretched out on the sheet and watched him lying next to her on his back. His breathe still somewhat heavy but even now, his eyes closed. She remembered he had always had that somewhat uneased expression in his sleep, as if the pressure and the worries even haunted him there, not allowing him to let go and rest. And she felt the same old urge to stretch out her hand and stroke his cheek, touch his forehead lightly to comfort him. But she could still taste the guilt and so she didn't move. It wouldn't be appropriate.
Her gaze wandering over his features and his body she found herself stirring in old memories and comparing. She had never had reason to complain but he had never devoured her like this. She wished his desire had ever been that intense back then, when he had wanted her for being her or what he thought was her. Not like tonight when he had wanted her in sheer despair, for being the only one left to him, the only one to heal him. The sick irony of their history all over again. Of her being the one to be send to look after his family. Of her being the one to betray him. Of her being untouchable because of that. Of him wanting to find the bomb but endangering everything by forcing her to focus on and prioritize her own survival. Of him being the one to save her life when she had stopped breathing. Of her being his only chance yet again. And now this. How the hell was it supposed to end?
She let her gaze return to his face and found him just when he awoke. He opened his eyes and stared into space, the memories of the past hours rushing back to him. Moving his head and glancing at her, she expected to see a sign of disgust or regret in his face but found none. He just sighed and turned back again, pulling his arm up under his head, his expression as blank as hers.
For a long time they just lingered in silence that way and it felt less awkward than they would have expected. Suddenly he smiled at something. Somewhat sadly and regretfully, but there was definitely some sense of joy to it. She wondered what it was but didn't want to interrupt the silence. Instead he rolled over onto his side, his shoulders on a level with her chest. He propped his head up on his right hand while his left one started to travel her belly, tracing some of the scars she had obtained over the years. He remembered noticing them back on the plane with a sense of satisfaction at the pain she must have suffered, but now they just seemed milestones witnessing of her path through life. He was carrying the same marks on him and it struck him that remarkably enough none of the wounds they had inflicted on each other was as visible. They hadn't bothered to hurt each other in such a superficial way.
He leaned over and covered one of the biggest ones with a light kiss, lifted his head up again and stared down at it as if to see if there was any change. Then he moved on to the next one. And the next one. Covering her belly with kisses, burying his face in her damaged skin.
She observed his profile while he did so, placing a hand on his back and inevitably coming across on of his scars as well. She knew this wasn't to last. They both knew they would sooner or later have to deal with reality again. There was no way for them to be together in that way. Or any way.
She closed her eyes as he moved closer, devoting himself even more to his task, his hands wandering up her body. She moaned softly under his touch and moved her hand to his head, running her fingers through his hair. She knew he would leave her again. He would leave her behind and return to the remains of his life, hoping she would never get into his way again. But deep inside they both knew this wasn't her kind of life. Hadn't been last time either. She wouldn't be able to just sit around in her solitude, doing nothing until the end of days. She had come here to hide and sort things out and for a while she had actually enjoyed her new harbor. But she had started getting restless and she wouldn't fool herself - it wouldn't just go away and disappear. She was as isolated and abandoned as him or probably even more. At least he had his daughter and his work. Sooner or later...
She moaned again and pulled him up to meet his lips. To find not forgiveness but oblivion. And he gave it to her and to himself, realizing it was the last thing they could possibly do to each other. Right there and then. Later could wait.