Shards of Us

He smiles, but stops kissing me. 'Good,' he whispers. 'Now are you ready for my story?'

'Always, Sebastian,' I whisper, closing my eyes and savoring his touch, the feel of him beside me. His breath is warm and soft, and I can feel the curl of his lips as he smiles, his mouth still so close to my ear.

'Once upon a time, there was a boy.' Sebastian's voice is rough in my ear, rough and sexy, and I have to close my eyes, listening to him, letting everything else fade away. 'His alcoholic dad beat him when he was only ten and his mom was too cocaine-addicted to do anything about it. He had a brother, too. A little brother, who was only eight at the time, and soon his dad started beating the little brother too. But the boy knew his brother was too young to take it, and so he stood in front of his brother to keep him safe.' His voice quiets with each word, dragging them out slowly. His eyes focus sadly on the empty wall in front of him, and suddenly I realize this story is more than just fiction. 'The father was enraged by this, and so he took to hitting the boy extra hard, and the boy sucked it all up to save his brother, to keep his brother alive. But then one day, it became too much.' My heart starts beating faster. 'And the boy… well, the boy died at the hands of his father. The beating became so much that the boy's body couldn't take it. It wasn't until the father realized what he'd done that he started sobbing, trying to save his son, but it was too late. And then he took his own life out of pure desperation, and the little brother who the boy saved was shaking and scared, and he didn't know what to do, so he ran. He left the boy who had saved him, left his mother, left his family. The brother was a coward, but he just didn't know what to do. He ran and ran until a woman he didn't know found him by a pair of dumpsters and took him in as her own son, as she couldn't have one of her own. For ten years she cared for him, loved him, and nurtured him. She homeschooled instead of enrolling him in school, gave him lessons on how to defend himself and how to treat woman and how to make it in the world. And then when he turned eighteen, he left to find a job elsewhere, telling the woman who raised him he'd return soon. But he lied, because he never spoke to the woman again. He always had a way of leaving the people he cared about.' Sebastian sighs. His eyes are distant, and he is the closest I've ever seen him to crying. 'That brother was me, angel,' he says quietly. 'I don't have anyone left. Anyone,' he whispers into my ear, 'but you.'

I stiffen up at the tenderness in his words. It takes me a minute to realize that Sebastian just opened up to me--like, really opened up to me. For the first time. Ever. The only time I'd ever opened up to him was to tell him about my parents, and my suicide, and my loss of my dance career, and that's all he knows about me.

'I'm sorry,' I say quietly, not knowing what else to tell him. Then, I look up to meet his eyes. They look fragile and strong all at once, a fierce blue holding back a deep secret.

'Don't be,' he whispers. 'Don't ever be sorry.' He starts kissing me again, holding me close and letting his warmth wrap around me as he kisses my nose, then my cheek, then, suddenly, my lips. The tension in my body relaxes at his kiss, and I close my eyes and kiss him back, fierce and passionate, moving my body onto his, my breasts against his chest.

I need Sebastian like I need to breathe. I need his kiss to heal me. And he needs me back.

That's the thing about our relationship: we're just there for each other. No questions asked. No worries needed. No drama. No nothing but each other and our feelings and our broken pasts.

'Sebastian?' I ask as he starts nipping at the bottom of my mouth with his lips, sending a wave of tingles throughout my body.

He stops kissing me, but he keeps his lips on mine. 'Yes?' he breathes.

I hesitate. 'Why did you never talk to the woman again?'

He doesn't answer right away. Just looks away, his stomach heaving, his eyes on the snow-covered window. His face looks distant, and I know he's in deep thought, remembering all everyone did for him and all he left behind. For a while, I just let myself enjoy his warmth, the coziness of his presence, listening to each of his steady breaths, feeling his stomach move up and down and up and down beneath me. I could fall asleep here if I wanted to, I realize. I could stay here forever. I could spend eternity in Sebastian's arms, and I would never be hurt again. He would protect me; he would save me.

My heart aches for him, like physically aches, and all I want to do is to put my lips back on his, to kiss him until everything is okay again. I want to save Sebastian like he saves me.

'Rule number two, angel,' he says at last. 'No personal questions.' He sighs. 'Now kiss me to make the pain go away.'

I nod, and then our lips lock, and I feel nothing but the tingling in my skin and the numb pleasure of kissing him all night long. 

Chapter Three

The next week is all a blur. As hard as I try, I can't stop thinking about what Sebastian told me. It occurs to me numerous times that he's even more damaged than I thought. He's hurt in ways no one can ever understand. Or maybe that's wrong. Maybe the point is, and the reason why he said what he said, is because only I can understand his hurt. Only I know the ache of true loneliness as well as he does. Only I know what it's like to leave everything behind for a future that bears nothing positive. Only I know, and only he knows, and so only we have the power to make each other better.

On Monday, Ash starts putting together our plan for figuring out Sebastian's identity at the end of our shift at Starbucks. I'm wiping down the tables when she comes over to me, wearing a dark green apron, and says, 'Wednesday night is the night!' with a big smile on her face.

I grimace. 'I know.'

She gives me a playful shove. 'C'mon, Crystal! Aren't you excited? Finally you get to know who this man of your dreams is!'

'Yeah,' I say tiredly, although a part of me I kind of is excited. I want to know who Sebastian is. I really, really want to. I wonder if he owns his own corporation or something, if he's a businessman--he sure dresses like one--or if he's a lawyer, or what. I want to know what else happened to make him so painfully alone. I want to know how he got to be who he is--so strong and rough and controlling, and yet, beneath it all, so tender and hurt. I want to know Sebastian, really know him, and then I want to be with him.

Still, a nagging part of me can't help but think that something is going to go very, very wrong.

'Just yeah?' Ash asks as she joins me in wiping down the table.

I sigh. 'Are you sure you're going to be okay? Following him, I mean.'

She rolls her eyes. 'You worry too much. You know that?'

'And maybe you don't worry enough,' I say with a small smile, moving onto another table.

She shrugs. 'Fair enough. But seriously, everything is going to be just fine. I'll wait in the lobby when you two leave, and then I'll follow him from a good distance until he goes to a house or business or something that will help us find out who he is. And then I'll leave before he can notice. I watch crime dramas,' she adds. 'I know how this shit is done.'

'Whatever,' I say, throwing the cloth I was using in the trash and taking off my green apron. 'Just don't get hurt, okay?'

'Okay,' Ash says.

She follows me into the bathroom, where I wash my hands. 'Trust me,' she adds, smiling. 'Come Wednesday night, you'll be thanking me for finding out who he is.'

'I trust you,' I say weakly, turning off the water and wiping my hands with a towel. 'I know you'll stay safe.'

She smiles at me. 'Thanks, Crystal,' she says. 'I know for a fact nothing will go wrong.'

How wrong she was.

* * *

How are you supposed to act when you're about to deceive the one person you care about? The only thing I know about deception is which poses and music you use to represent it in dance, which doesn't exactly help in this situation. I stare at myself in the mirror for the longest time Wednesday night before leaving for the hotel, thinking