His breathing came heavy and fast. The muscles in his jaw pulsed rapidly and it took him a long time to speak. "I didn't know," he murmured. "You talk about me crossing over...I didn't know the extent of your feelings." He stepped closer, closer, until there was nothing between us but an inch of air.
I reached up and placed both my hands on either side of his face. "I only want what's best for you," I whispered. "What's right."
"This is right. You are right for me. Emily." He lowered his head and his lips brushed my forehead, the touch as gentle as feathers. "I don't want to cross. I don't want to leave you."
He didn't say "however" but I heard it nevertheless. My heart opened up and began to bleed, or so it seemed. It hurt so much. "Go on," I said, even though I didn't want to know any more. Didn't want to hear the awful words, the ones where he said he had to go because staying was too hard. Watching me grow old when he stayed the same was unnatural.
But instead of speaking, he lowered his lips to mine. His kiss was as light as air as he tasted and teased again and again until finally I could stand it no more and I pressed my hands to the back of his head and pulled him closer, locking him against me. A deep growl rumbled low in his chest and he put his arms around me and held me tight. I melted into him, conscious of nothing but the strength in his body, the tenderness of his mouth on mine, and the desire consuming me.
I don't know how long we explored each other but we became utterly lost as we did so. Eventually, too soon, we parted.
Jacob rested his forehead against mine. "Why is it that something that's so wrong feels so good?" he asked.
"Is it wrong?"
He kissed the end of my nose. "A ghost and a girl as full of life as you?" He nodded sadly. "Very wrong."
I'd not thought my heart could hurt any more than it already did, but it felt like someone was trying to pull it out of my body through the eye of a needle. "Are you going to tell me we must stop this?" It was too hard to keep the hurt from my voice so I didn't try. "Stop feeling what we feel?"
"Can you?"
"No more than I could tear my own arm off."
He smiled sadly. "Me too."
"Then what?"
He let go of my hands and I almost toppled off the bed as I'd been using him for support. He went to the fireplace and watched me from there, as if it were safer with more space between us. I wasn't so sure about that.