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speechless, caught off guard by her naked legs I'd imagined wrapped around me for the past three weeks I'd been away in a dustbowl. I saw the moment her eyes adjusted to the light and she recognized me. Even if I hadn't seen it in her eyes, her mouth let me know. "What do you want?"
    What did I want? You , I wanted to say. I want you, and nothing else . That would have probably gone over much better than what actually came out of my mouth.
    “I saw you with José last night.”
    Thankfully she didn't respond to the bullshit that I said, and instead motioned me inside. I followed her to the kitchen.
    "Are you going to say anything?" Damn, could anything right come out of my fucking mouth?
    “You showed up on my doorstep. Well, Chris’ doorstep. Say what you gotta say.” She was staring at the coffee pot, her back to me, refusing to look at me.
    She was right. I was the one who busted up in her friends house, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to say. It was as if there was so much I wanted to say that I couldn't seem to put together a coherent thought, and bullshit just kept coming out of my mouth. My hand snaked it's way to Gramps, as if clutching the scarred shoulder Gram tended to, that I'd since covered in Gramps' eagle, would magically give me the right words to say. It didn't work, not at all.
    “You were out with José Saldón last night.”
    “Is that his last name?” Christ, she didn't know his last name. Did she know he was a Delmarco?
    “You’re not safe with him.”
    “But I’m safe with you?” Fuck, she hit the nail on the head. She wasn't safe with me. That didn't mean I wanted her to be with José, so of course I changed the subject.
    “I’m leaving, Elle.”
    “So you’ve said.”
    “I mean I’m really leaving. It’s do or die time.”
    “So do.” She sounded so lost, as lost as I was. All the pain I felt the night before while I laid in her bed was filling her voice. She was just as hollow as me, and I knew I was to blame. I knew José could keep her safer than me, but I refused to give her up. Fuck, I felt the urge to break down like a bitch again. I held in silent cries. I moved closer to her, my front not quite touching her back. I bit my tongue to hold back the tears threatening to fall until the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.  I quietly pulled myself together the best I could, and spoke words from my heart, the one that was breaking, shattering.
    “Please, baby. Please. I need you. I love you. I can’t go into this without knowing you’ll be here when I return.”
    She finally turned to me, and the words I longed to hear filled my ears.
    "I love the fuck out of you, no matter how much I try to stop."
    Her next words, though, gutted me.
    "I don't want you to die."
    She fell into my arms and I held her tight, probably too tight. She was afraid of me dying. She didn't want to be without me. Is that what she was saying? She tried to pull away, but I refused to let her go. I never wanted to let her go again. I wanted to suspend time and keep her locked in my arms for eternity. I told her so much, continuing to keep her close as I told her all I wanted in this life was her, every morning, every night, and every moment in between. I was waging this war for her, to be with her, to bathe in her light and try and offer her as much as I had in me to give.
    “I never asked you to wage war on my behalf.”
    “It doesn’t matter if you asked, Elle, my sun. Baby," I plead with her. "You blew into my life all ablaze. You act cool and subtle, but you’ve shown me the fire underneath. I’m addicted to your heat, and I don’t want to live if I can’t have your light shining down upon me. Baby, please, tell me you feel something. Anything.”
    I waited, holding my breath, afraid of what she'd say next. Would she wait? Did she love me like I loved her, with every atom that made up my body and mind, and whatever it was that made up my soul? She whispered something under her breath. What