Love doesn't only break hearts but promises as well.

Mae

I turned on the light, seeing the owner of the silhouette. "What are you doing here?" I asked James as he sat on my bed, fiddling with the red tie in his hands. The fear of not knowing who the silhouette belonged to disappeared, and I relaxed. "I didn't see your car."

"I parked it in the back. There's a spare key back there," James said.

"You scared the crap out of me." I laughed. The smile on my face waned as I saw James' dejected expression. "What's wrong?"

"I wanted to talk to you," he whispered and took a deep breath. "That time...when we went to Damien's party, did he ever tell you about the pact we made?"

I shook my head.

His forced out laughter sounded like a scoff. "Figures."

"What was the pact?" 

His eyes roamed around the room before landing on mine. "Can I tell you something?"

I nodded.

"Anything?"

I nodded again, my temperature mirroring the rising of my heartbeat. I didn't know what he was going to tell me, but the tingling in the back of my head gave a clue. He stood and approached me.

"Do you remember when you brought Damien into the group?" 

"We were all friends." I smiled at the memory; it's the only one I dwelled on, remaining my most vivid memory. All the other ones were either blurred to a degree or blank.

He forced a chuckle. "No, not really. Me and Damien hated each other. Hell, we still do."

I furrowed my eyebrows. Hated? My best friend and the guy I was falling for...hated each other? I guess I was naive to think they would be friends because they both cared for me. "Why?"

His light brown eyes searched the depths of my hazel ones. "Come on, Mae. You know why."

My head swayed left and right, but, in truth, I knew. I feared what the outcome might be if I told him. It made it too real.

"I used to hate the way he looked at you, and he hated the way I looked at you, so we made a pact."

"About what?" I whispered. Don't say it, James, I thought. Say what I think you're going to, James.

His eyes wandered to his right. "When we got older, there were things about you that I didn't notice but started to. You started getting more beautiful, and my feelings started to change."

"James."

His eyes never met mine.

"What are you saying?"

"Suddenly, you weren't just my best friend anymore. Suddenly...you were my entire world."

"James." I needed to hear him say it for it to be true.

"I'm in love with you, Mae," James said, finally meeting my eyes. Our body heat became one as he closed the little space we had. I put my hands on the side of his waist to stop him from coming closer. "Mae, I've been in love with you for a really long time. And...do you know the most painful...the most painful part about it? Is that it sucks to know the girl I fell for is falling for someone else." His watered at the same time his teeth clenched.

"Why didn't you tell me this?" I wasn't sure what difference it would have made. I wondered, if he would have told me sooner, would things have been different?

"We got older, then came the bro code. I couldn't go out with my best friend's sister. No matter how bad I wanted to...I couldn't." He cupped my face, pressing his forehead against mine. "I just wish you felt the same, Mae."

Words failed me.

He removed his forehead from mine, staring at my lips. "Do you know how much times I've imagined kissing you?"

"You had a chance when we were fourteen." When I was in love with you, James.

He laughed. "Spin the bottle really wasn't what I imagined our first kiss to be like."

Nerves, nothing but nerves coursed through my body, pumped their way into my heart and swarmed around in my head. I looked away.

"I won't. I know Damien should be your first kiss. First love, first kiss, right?" His voice thickened, and he looked away. I didn't want to hurt James. I never thought I'd cause him this much heartache. "I wish I could say I'd make you happier...but I know that's not true."

"You do make me happy." I didn't like that he thought he wasn't enough for me. James' kind and happy-filled personality made him an amazing person, so seeing him on the verge of tears brought me nothing but heartache.

"But not enough." His nod was slow as he looked at me. "It's the reason I won't be the guy who makes you choose. Because I know, Mae...I know you wouldn't choose me."

My tears were an avalanche, a broken dam that couldn't be fixed. "I—" I hiccuped.

"Shh...you're too beautiful to cry." The corners of his lips tugged into a painful smile.

"M-my cry will get ugly...j-just wait."

My arms embraced his body with as much strength as I could muster, and he sighed in contentment. "My god, Mae, I'm so in love with you." His voice broke.

"I love you too, James." I bit my bottom lip to control my crying.

"You have no idea how bad I wish it was in the same way." He pulled away from me and kissed my forehead. 

"You'll find—"

"Mae." He forced a smile. "There's no one out there like you."

"No, there's someone out there who will make you happier than I ever could. Someone who will love you, cherish you, deeper than I ever could," I said, trying my hardest to speak through the tightness in my throat. "You deserve better."

"Thank you." He looked down, sniffling.

"You're still my best friend, right?"

He stayed quiet.

"James, you'll still be there for me, right?" My voice broke.

"I...I think it would be better if I wasn't. For Damien. For me. I don't know if I can stand by and watch Damien fill the position I wanna be in."

"But you're my best friend."

He smiled and kissed my forehead once more before walking toward the door. "Goodbye, Mae."

"Why does it sound like I'm never going to see you again?" The adrenaline and pain never knew when to stop stabbing my heart. I couldn't lose James; he was too important to me. He's what kept me grounded for so long. He gave me my voice, my happiness.

"You will." He nodded. "Just a little differently now." He forced a smile and walked out of my room.

"Goodbye, James." 

My feet collected the dust on my floor as I made my way to my restroom, releasing my heels wherever they thudded. I wasn't sure if I ever blinked as I stared into space. The desperate need to cry released as I stood under my shower. This entire time I always believed I was unloveable, that no one in their right mind would ever love me.  

Me, Mute Mae, the one with too many scars, the one with too much darkness in my head, was, in fact, loveable. 

My eyes had been laced with lies my entire life, covering the love right before me. Mitch really had taken everything from me. And I let him. I stood by, and I let him take everything away from me—my happiness, the love I could have had, the millions of possibilities I could have had all gone because of that monster, that vile creature that didn't even deserve the title human.

My hands glided over my face as I washed the tears away. The towel that encased my body collected the water, and I walked into my closest, changing into my baggy t-shirt and black panties; I needed to feel smaller than I really was. Hopefully then, my problems would seem more insignificant.

I sucked in a breath as Damien sat on my bed on top of James' red tie. "This yours?" He smiled, extending his hand that held my bracelet.

"Thank you." I grabbed it. I never realized I lost it. 

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head and grabbed James' tie, putting both his tie and my bracelet into my sock drawer. I avoided Damien's analytical eyes as they watched me. He stood in my way when I walked toward my bed. "I'm just tired. Too much dancing." I smiled. I wasn't going to let anything get in the way of my happiness. That was my pact.

"You sure?" He pulled me close, and I nodded.

"Absolutely!" Anxiety rose when my voice sounded too confident. He didn't notice, just smiled.

"Good," he said. "I wish I would have danced with you more."

"It's never too late." 

Damien pulled his phone from his pocket, a smile on his lips as he played a soft song. I had always wanted someone to dance with like this. He rested his arms on my waist as mine rested on his shoulders. I felt awkward staring into his eyes, so I looked down at his black tie, but his warm, soft fingers lifted my chin up.

His eyes lingered on my lips before staring into my eyes. My heart thumped at the possibilities he was thinking. He leaned closer. My heart was on the brink of combustion. "Can I kiss you, Mae?"

I nodded. The fear of him finding out I was a bad kisser heightened, and I laughed when he leaned down. I hugged him, too scared to let go.

"What?" Damien chuckled, trying to push me away from him, but I wasn't having it. Instead, he held me, assuring me with the tightness of his embrace.

"I don't know how to kiss." It was better to just admit that, let it be known so he didn't have high expectations of what an amazing kisser he thought I was.

"I'll teach you."

Okay, hello, Mr. Smooth, I thought, which made me laugh. I couldn't pull away. I was too nervous. My clutch on him remained strong even as he kept trying to push me away.

"How else are you going to learn?" 

He had a point. I loosened my clutch and looked up at him, his grin widening as our eyes met. I laughed again and let my eyes wander anywhere but his own. The happiness and anticipation within them became too intense to stare into. His hand made its way to my cheek, leaving me no choice but to meet his gaze. 

Damien leaned down, and I laughed as I looked away. I couldn't do it!

"Mae." Damien chuckled. 

"I'm sorry! I want to! I'm just too shy." I met his eyes as they glistened with happiness. "Just a peck."

"Like a...mwah."

The nervousness escaped with my laughter, and I nodded. My face was glued into a smile as he brushed the hair that brought me comfort out of my face and leaned down. I leaned up and pecked his lips. That wasn't so bad. He pecked my lips twice, but I looked away and laughed. 

"See, you survived," Damien teased. The impulse to hug him piqued so I did as I laughed. "Lemme see."

Happiness ensued as I knew he wanted another kiss. I leaned up, and he placed his lips over mine. This time I didn't pull away. I moved mine with his and his clutch on the back of my neck tightened as he brought my face closer. 

The corners of my lips tugged as we kissed. His voluptuous lips felt nice to kiss as they moved against mine. I concentrated on moving my lips in sync with his, but I started to overthink it. I pulled away when it felt like I lost the pattern. Did he figure it out, that I was a bad kisser? 

He lifted my head up and leaned down, but I looked away and laughed.

He groaned in frustration. "Mm! Mae!"

My laughter never stopped and neither did his attempts to kiss me. "Alright, time for bed." A whip of coldness replaced his warmth as I made my way to the bed. His presence felt close behind me, so I hurried under the covers. 

"A goodnight kiss." He smiled as he leaned down. I looked away, and he kissed my cheek. "Mae."

"Okay, okay." I looked at him, leaning up, but swerved his kiss and kept laughing. In an attempt to make up for it, I kissed his cheek. Damien deadpanned as he looked at me, but deep down, I saw the smile he tried fighting. 

I kissed his other cheek, and then his forehead, but he remained statue-like. I laid down laughing as I covered half my face with the blanket. 

"Right here." He tapped on his bottom lip as he leaned down. My lips reached, and his hand made its way to the back of my neck, holding me in place even when I tried to pull away. It became impossible to kiss him with my lips pulled into a tight smile.

I put distance between us, a giddy feeling flourishing in waves, mixing with the nerves, and creating an intense sensation that kept pulsing out my body.

The naive part of my mind always imagined fireworks and magic when I had my first kiss, but there was no magic or fireworks. It was normal. But in the best way possible. It was special, still. It wasn't the kiss that was special; it was the person I was kissing that made the experience special. 

The magic was Damien.

"Your lips are meaty," I told him in an attempt to compliment him. What the hell is wrong with me? Meaty?

Damien threw his head back, his laughter booming and echoing in my hollow room. "Meaty?" He laughed. I hid under the covers. Tugs pulled at my blanket, but my grip tightened. "Mae, Meaty? What does that even mean?" 

Intense embarrassment surged throughout my body as he kept laughing. Wheezes and short gasps escaped his mouth as he cried from laughter. He pulled harder at the blanket, and I was afraid with both our strength we would rip it, so I let go.

He pulled the entire blanket off of me, and I was reminded that I only wore a long t-shirt as I sat cross-legged. "Damien!"

"Sorry!" He threw the blanket on my face as he turned around. "I-I didn't see much! I mean, not that there wasn't much to see! I mean—you know what I mean!"

I laughed and told him it was okay as I covered myself.

"It's getting late," he said and turned to face me. I didn't want him to go yet.

"Mm-mm." I held him by his tie. He leaned down when I made the maneuver, but the dominance in his eyes made looking at him too intense. My eyes strayed and that made him frustrated, which made me smile.

"I'm leaving." My grip on his tie tightened as I chuckled, and he leaned down. "Then kiss me."

I looked down, but his fingers pushed my chin up and made soft caresses on my cheek that tickled. With gentleness, he placed his lips over mine, and I leaned up, mimicking what he did, and pulled him to me. 

My shyness took over, forcing me to pull away. Damien placed his forehead on mine, his eyes closed. I closed my eyes and savored the tingling sensation left by Damien's lips. I wanted to kiss him nonstop, but the fear of not knowing how ultimately held me back. I knew it would take time.

"Your freckles are cute," Damien said and pushed my hair behind my ears. I grew self-conscious with my ears. Zach and James always made fun of me for having fairy ears. I tried bringing my hair forward, but he repeated his action. I tried again, and so did he. I sighed. There was no point in trying. His face lit up in triumph as he looked over my features. 

"Why do you like me?" I asked him. He cupped my face and shook me a little.

"Why...do I like you?" He echoed.

I nodded.

"Why...do I like you? That's the question?"

I nodded.

He kissed me on my lips, on both my cheeks, my forehead, my nose. I started laughing, and he smiled. "Do you have"—he looked at his naked wrist—"forever so I can explain?"

I nodded, the corners of my lips pulling to their limits. 

"It's getting late," he said.

"Spend the night." He looked unsure. "If you want." I patted the left side of the bed. He nodded and removed his blazer and shoes. "I don't have clothes for you, but you can sleep in your boxers."

He gasped. "Mae, are you trying to seduce me?"

"If I was?" I held back my laugh. 

He lifted his shoulders, holding back a smile as he unbuttoned his shirt one button at a time. He looked at me, and I laughed and looked away. The bed moved, so I peeked at him, and he wore a black tank top. My eyes remained glued to his body. The muscles were an obvious attraction, but what caught my attention the most were the tattoos that went from his shoulders to under his tank top.

"You have tattoos?" 

"Want to see them?"

I nodded. Damien stood and crossed his arms, grabbing the hem of his shirt as he pulled it over his head. His abs and serratus flexed with each movement and the corners of my lips pulled up on their own. My mouth dropped as I saw all of the tattoos that encased his body. He turned, more tattoos covering his back. Never would I have imagined that's what lied under his clothes. Angel wings covered his shoulder blades with three names in the middle, but no matter how much I squinted, I couldn't read the names.

The amount of detailing in each tattoo must have taken a great deal of time. I got on my knees and shuffled toward him. My eyes traveled down the indent on his spine, leading to his lower back muscles, which made his Venus dimples more prominent. My hand trailed down his back, taking him by surprise as he inhaled. 

I felt a lot of the lines on top of his angel wings, which gave his skin a soft texture. An anchor tattoo rested on the right side of his back.

"Why an anchor?" I leaned my head to the side as I traced it.

"Strength and security."

My hands trailed over his back, over the black rose, the sword, the green four-leaf clover on his right serratus. "Why a four-leaf clover?"

Damien laughed and shook his head. 

"It doesn't mean anything?" I made slow circular motions over the tattoo with my fingertips.

"I got it while I was drunk...but it does."

"What does it mean?"

"It might scare you away." His tone was light, which made me doubt there was anything bad tethered to the tattoo.

A smile made its way on my face with the lingering thought that bloomed. "It won't."

"Some people are hard to find, Mae." He turned around, his hands instinctively pulling me toward him. 

"So it's for a person?" I asked, searching his eyes, and he laughed.

"Mae." A smile laced his lips as he leaned his head to the side. My eyes wandered anywhere but his, and I noticed his Serpent tattoo wrapping from the right side of his waist, around his body, and up to his chest with the head lying over his heart as it hissed. 

"Is that Bennett's art?" I traced the fierce-looking Serpent. The amount of texture and shading the tattoo had made it seem as if it was coming for me.

"How do you know about that?"

"When I went to Ryder's." My eyes and fingers traveled over his abs. I didn't want to make him feel uncomfortable so I took my arm back. He grabbed his hand and placed it back on him.

He furrowed his eyebrows. "When?"

"When you went to Italy." There was a mockingbird under heart; it was really pretty. Beside his four-leaf clover, the mockingbird was the only other one in color.

"Oh."

Curiosity consumed me, and I had to ask. "Do you plan on getting any more in color?"

"Someday, maybe." He nodded, moving to sit down. I laid on my spot, and we got under the covers. "Do you want tattoos?"

I wasn't sure, so I shrugged. "I never really thought about."

"But now that you are?" He scooted closer.

I lifted my shoulders. "I don't really have anything in mind. I'm not really an art person. I mean, I like to look at art; I think it's really cool, and I like art museums—ou, Bennett should open up his own art museum!"

Damien smiled. "He wants to, but he gets really shy with his artwork. Apparently they have too many imperfections."

"It's crazy how he says that."

"I know. I don't know why someone would only see imperfections when clearly only perfections exist." His eyes roamed over my features, and I couldn't imagine him not catching imperfections. He leaned closer and placed his hand on my cheek. I leaned in—a small action that made him smile—and placed a soft kiss on his lips. I mimicked his actions as a way to learn how to kiss. He moved his hand on the back of my head, I did the same; he pulled me close, I pulled him closer. 

Sensations traveled everywhere with one specific destination. Kissing was fun, exciting that he enjoyed it so much. The fear of kissing remained but mixed with excitement and a rush of adrenaline that made everything became addicting.

I didn't find a sacred meaning behind sex; I just didn't want to risk getting pregnant in high school. Or, more specifically, I didn't want to risk being my mother. In any way, shape, or form.

Damien started leaning his weight on me, so I laid back. He pulled apart from my lips, kissing up and down on my neck, sucking like he did last time. The beating of my heart grew as strong as the pulsing between my legs. Shocks of pleasure erupted in teasing torments. Every time he sucked, a new shock of pleasure pulsed in waves of heat. What promise to not have sex in high school? 

My hands rubbed up his arms and down his back. The need to feel him, to be close to him, was a new experience. A strong desire to be filled grew as his lips moved upward, the sucking following as he pulled my earlobe between his teeth. A gasp escaped my throat, and his kissing grew stronger.

"Okay, okay, okay," I said in a rush. It was moving too fast. Had it moved any faster, I wouldn't have stopped it. He stopped and leaned his forehead on mine. The tingling, pulsing, and adrenaline that mixed with it waned.

"Too fast?" He asked, never opening his eyes. 

"It still felt nice," I said, my breathing erratic.

"Sorry, I just"—he gulped—"got excited." He smiled.

It was invigorating that he got excited because of me. To turn him on seemed fun—almost like a challenge. I laid my head over his heart and listened to the beating. Strong like last time; he'd be here for a while. Silence surrounded us, allowing peace to come with the safety Damien's embrace ensured. He kissed the top of my head, and I smiled, letting his heartbeats put me to sleep.