Desperate - M Avery

Avery & number 13 from this list…

“Please, just hear me out!” Avery insists, taking a step forward.

“No,” You say firmly, your feet planted even as he draws closer, “It’s suicide.”

“It’s the only choice I have.”

“It’s not,” You hiss, “You’re a desperate fool to even believe it would work.”

“If it does, it saves more than one life. If not, only mine is forfeit.” His jaw flexes, clenching and unclenching, “I have to try.”

“Have you ever considered that I care enough about you to stop you from running off like this? To certain death?” You snap, “Because I do. I love you, and if you love me in return then you will drop this.”

“I have to save them.” He pleads quietly.

“The weight of the world is not on your shoulders,” You meet him halfway, reaching to grab his upper arms in a tight grip, “One mistake doesn't mean you owe the universe your very soul. Especially not a mistake that only ended up hurting you.”

He’s silent for a moment, refusing to meet your eyes. You shake him, perhaps a bit desperate yourself.

“Avery, please.”

He must hear the breaking in your voice because he finally looks at you. He meets your gaze, one hand slipping up to brush a stray hair from your face. His fingers glide down your cheek, enraptured by something only he can see. You loosen your grip slightly but still keep a hold of him, ever cautious.

“I do love you.” He says.

You let out a shaking breath, “Then listen to me. If there is a way that doesn’t result in your meaningless slaughter, we will find it. I just can’t lose you too.”

His expression fractures before shattering open before you. As he watches you strip yourself emotionally bare, he must find the courage to do the same. He pries your hands gently from his arms before holding them close, your palms resting against his chest.

His heartbeat is a frenzy of movement beneath your fingertips.

“I’m sorry for worrying you. It’s been a long time since…well, since someone has been around to care if I make it home.” He confesses quietly, “I had forgotten.”

“Then I will remind you,” You affirm, clenching the fabric of his shirt in your hands, “Each and every time you want to do something so stupid.”

“I’m sure you will,” His eyes are soft, and he squeezes your hands gently.

You swallow, some of the tension in your body bleeding out. He reaches down to wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you close until his face is pressed into the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry.” He mummers against your skin.

“I know.”

“I love you.”

You run a hand through his hair, “I know that, too. Just stop giving me stress migraines and we’ll be good to go.”

His laugh makes his warm breath tickle your skin, the sensation washing over you completely. Maybe he’d be alright. Maybe you would be alright, as well.