Every broken and scarred inch of him is known to me.
And I love it all.
Even when he tries so hard to break me open just to soothe the demons in his head and the parts of him that could never trust a Bonded, not ever.
His eyes drop down to the tears still streaming down my cheeks unchecked, but he doesn’t move to wipe them away. He’s not afraid of seeing the raw emotions. If anything, it’s comforting to him to see the way he’s unintentionally hurt me.
To know that I have the capacity for remorse and guilt is comforting.
He’s arguably more messed up than I am… or maybe not, because knowing this about him isn’t a red flag at all. It’s a sign that he’s just as jaded as I am. There’s no rose-colored glasses skewing his view of things, and he would never let someone take advantage of him again.
I’ve already forgiven him, even as my chest aches so badly that every breath burns as though my lungs are on fire. It takes me a minute to get myself under control, but Nox’s fingers don’t stop stroking my face, his lips still move with the low, comforting murmurs. He stays with me until I can breathe again.
When he does finally explain himself, it’s in fractured pieces that are strung together haphazardly. “I didn’t… mean it like that. I meant that you protected yourself. You were young, but you did it. I… didn’t.”
Tears spring into my eyes, the trauma of what he went through still so fresh in my mind, and I’m careful about moving slowly as I cover his hands with my own. “She was all you knew. You had no one else, not that you knew of, and you would have died in that house without her. I murdered my parents. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t mean to… that’s exactly what I did.”
I stop talking because every word feels as though it’s a razor blade, slicing me up and bleeding me out as they tumble out of my mouth. Nox doesn’t push for more, he just stares at me for a second longer, then slides his hands away from my face, breaking that small connection between us as he rolls onto his back beside me. “I’ll take it to my grave, Oleander.”
It’s an oath I can trust, one that I don’t feel the need to say back to him, because of course I would never breathe a word of any of his past. The thought of betraying his trust like that, a trust he’s been forced to give me thanks to his death and our soul-bonding, leaves me feeling sick to my stomach.
I also know that it would make my bond feel nothing but bloodlust and violence, all of its most dangerous feelings.
We fall into a charged sort of silence, one where we’re both clearly stuck in our own heads, dealing with all of the information and trauma we’ve been forced to delve into and dredge up from the deepest, darkest hiding places within ourselves. The longer the silence goes on, the more uncomfortable I get. Nox doesn’t make a move, and his face gives away nothing, but the guilt of what I did to my parents has rattled me. I want to climb out of my own skin the longer the silence stretches out between us both.
When I can’t take it any longer, I blurt out, “Should I leave?”
Nox lets his eyes fall shut, his head dropping back against the pillows. “Do whatever you want.”
It’s a very nice way of letting me off of the hook, and I don’t deserve such kindness. Instead of taking the pass, I poke at him a little more. “What’s changed? What did you see in the soul-bond that changed… all of this for you? Or are we going to walk out of this room tomorrow and forget that all of this ever happened, go back to you hating me for ever existing?”
He lies there with his eyes shut, his face turned up towards the ceiling as though he’s praying to some god of his own design, without speaking for so long that I assume he’s never going to answer me. I let myself snuggle back into my own pillows, telling myself that I’ll get up and leave him alone in just a minute. Just a minute longer of enjoying this space with him before I leave him alone.
He shouldn’t have to put up with me like this.
“You saw every part of me, and I, you. I have no questions left, no unknowns. You can leave now if you want to, but don’t go for my sake because… I’d rather have you in here.”
Jesus.
Okay.
How many times am I going to force this man to tell me he wants me here before I believe him?
“Being Bonded to you isn’t… what I thought it would be. It messed with my head a lot, brought up things I didn’t want to have to deal with all over again, but the soul-bonding answered the questions that I wouldn’t— couldn’t— just ask you. I would’ve never believed you anyway, no matter what your answers were. That fact that we’re Bonded isn’t… the worst thing imaginable anymore.”
I nod slowly, my stomach curling, but not because of what he’s saying to me. He’s not being cruel or mean with what he’s telling me. This is honesty, pure and raw and terrible.
The more I think about it, the more I feel like puking, and I scrunch my nose up. The word ‘Bonded’ for the two of us is now poison in my mouth, acrid and bitter to the point that I want to go find my toothbrush to clean the taste away.
“I don’t want you to call me that word. I know you probably weren’t ever going to, but I need to say it. I’m fine with Oli or Oleander. ‘Poison’ is also fine—if that’s what you need.”
He shrugs. “I’m the poison. I’m the one who will seep into this group and destroy everything I touch. I told North that. He won’t listen, even now that he’s drinking himself into a grave because of me.”
It’s then that I see, more clearly than ever, that no matter how much Nox Draven has hated me in the past, no matter how much he might still resent me now even despite himself, that the person he hates the most is himself.
Chapter Five
Oli
The exhaustion hits us both again, and I fall asleep in Nox’s bed beside him, his shadow creatures surrounding us as they sleep in their dark slumber more deeply than ever before as we all recover from the effects of the soul-bonding and Nox’s death.
I wake up to his face as close to mine as it can get without actually touching me, something that used to make me feel so desolate and alienated but has now become a sign of trust between us.
It wasn't his bond that put us this close together.
It wasn't some secret, midnight moonlighting between the gods living inside of us both. It was just Nox going to sleep as close as his own boundaries would let him get to me. I had never really considered how intimate it would be to be so close to someone that we’re sharing breaths but not actually touching anywhere.
It moves something in my chest that I’m not sure will ever be moved back, some secret puzzle piece that suddenly fits nicely inside of me as though it always had.
If I shut my eyes, I can still feel his hands pressed against my cheeks and the soft cascade of his breath as he whispered quiet calming words to me. The change from Nox Draven, the damaged scholar who loathed my very existence, to Nox Draven, the man I have committed my life to and share a soul-bond with, is both dramatic and subtle.
The same intensity that I had always felt in him is still there, the same seething anger at the world, and even at me. Being so completely in tune with each other hasn't taken any of that away. There's no healing the things that were done to him, in the same way that there's no healing the things that were done to me. Recovery isn't about wiping the board clean. Recovery is learning how to function around all of the scars and open wounds inside of us.