Sam worked his lips against yours, injecting fire into your veins with every touch. Mid-kiss he slid his hand along your skin to caress your cheek, but the feel of his calloused skin against your neck was enough to send you back to months before.
Sam’s fingers squeezed around your throat, choking the air from your lungs as he mercilessly made love to you. His body ached with the need to feel your skin against his. It was only after, when you scanned your naked body in the mirror, that you realized that need left purple and blue bruises all over you.
Your hands, just moments before feeling up his torso, pushed back on his chest. You turned your back on him, struggling to catch your breath and keep your hands from shaking.
It wasn’t him. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t him.
But no matter how many times you chanted the words over in your head, you couldn’t look at your lover who sat just a few feet away. He reached for your hand, but you snatched it away without thinking.
“I’m sorry. I ju—
I just need a minute.”
“Is everything alright? You can talk to me.”
“Then tell me what I did. Ever since I got my soul back you’ve been acting strange. I can hardly touch you without you flinching away. You don’t sleep half the night from nightmares. We haven’t slept together in months. You know I can’t remember what I did when I was soulless so you have to tell me. Did I hurt you?”
You didn’t mean to, but when you turned back to Sam tears were running down your cheeks and sobs wracked your chest, choking your words as you tried to speak. “I know it wasn’t you. I don’t blame you for what happened. I just— every time we—”
Your words became incoherent as your cries took over your voice. Carefully and slowly, Sam wrapped his arms around your shaking body and drew you into his chest. Hand hand rubbed slow circles into your back.
“It’s okay. I’m here now.”
And he was. The real Sam was here now, and he would never hurt you.