Heartprints in the Void
⊰ 20.5 | 2 ⊱ Beyond the Tattoos

Cade

As the silence sinks between us, the weight of our history settling over us, I replace myself struggling to reconcile the man I am now with the man I was then the man who loved Elysian with every fiber of my being.

The memories are still hazy, the details blurred and uncertain, but the emotions they evoke are as real and powerful as ever. I look at Elysian, taking in the pain and longing etched into every line of her face, and I feel a desperate need to bridge the chasm between us.

I want to replace a way back to the connection we once shared, even if it means starting from scratch.

The words leave my mouth before I can stop them, a plea and prayer all in one. "Elysian," I say quietly, my voice raw with emotion. "Do you think we could ever be friends again? After everything that's happened?"

I see it in her face: my question strikes her in a way she wasn't expecting. Her eyes widen as she inhales sharply. "I...I don't know, Cade," she whispers, her voice cracking. "I honestly don't know."

"Why not?" I press, desperate for an answer, for some kind of clarity in the midst of this wall of fog in my mind. "Help me understand."

But she doesn't respond, her gaze dropping to the floor as she bites her lip, her shoulders trembling with the effort of holding back her tears.

"Please don't ask me that," she breathes, her voice so soft I can hardly hear her. "Not now, not after..."

She trails off, but it's as though I can hear the unspoken words, the weight of the pain that still lingers between us. I reach out instinctively, my hand replaceing hers, my fingers lacing through hers in a gesture of comfort, of apology. "Ely," I murmur, the old nickname slipping out unbidden. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

She doesn't let me finish, pulling away, her hand slipping from mine as she rises to her feet, swiping at the tears that streak down her cheeks. "I think you should go," she says, her voice trembling but firm.

I hesitate for a moment, torn between the desire to stay, to fix this somehow, and the knowledge that I've already pushed her too far.

*How do I fix this?*

...

*Should I fix this?*

With a heavy sigh, I stand, my movements slow and deliberate, a part of me still hoping she'll change her mind.

But she doesn't. Instead, she moves towards the door, pulling it open and gesturing for me to leave. I can see the pain in her eyes, the barely-contained sorrow, and it twists like a knife in my gut. *I really hurt her...*

"I'm sorry, Elysian," I say softly, the words feeling inadequate a pathetic offering in the face of all the pain I've caused her. "I never meant to hurt you. Not then, and not now."

She nods, a jerky, stilted motion, and I can tell she's barely holding herself together. I linger for a moment in the doorway, drinking in the sight of her, committing every detail to my memory.

"Good night, Elysian," I murmur before forcing myself to turn away. I walk out, leaving her behind once more.

The sound of the door closing echoes in my ears as I make my way down the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the last. By the time I reach my car, my mind is reeling, the events of the evening playing on a loop in my head.

I slide into the driver's seat, my hands gripping the steering wheel as I stare out into the street, illuminated by the warm street lights. And suddenly, I'm lost in another memory, one that feels more vivid, more real than anything that's come before.

Black and white bed sheets, twinkle lights on the walls, black curtains, and rain droplets painting the window.

It was Elysian's dorm room. We laid in her bed-*I* laid on top of her. The sheets were cold against my skin, but her touch was like fire, igniting every nerve ending until I was burning with need, with want.

She was beautiful, her hair fanned out across the pillow, her lips swollen from our kiss. The feeling of her skin against mine, her naked body pressed against my own, it was addictive. *She* was addictive.

With one hand planted on the bed, just beside her head, the other cradled her cheek, my thumb brushing the shadow beneath her plump lips. Her hooded eyes held mine as I positioned myself at her entrance, penetrating her slowly. She gasped as her tight walls hugged me, and I was careful, easing my way into her, inch by inch as she adjusted to me, taking me whole.

"Cade..." she moaned softly, her hands clinging at my hips. I could feel her heart pounding through her chest as my lips embraced hers in a passionate kiss. She cried into my mouth as I meticulously pumped in and out of her, my groans mixing with her soft ones.

*I was her first...*

The memory fades, and I'm left with a hollow ache in my chest, and the desire to have her all over again. I close my eyes, my head falling back against the headrest as I try to make sense of the jumble of emotions that swirl within me. Again, I'm pulled back into the memory. The sweet smell of her scent, the warmth of her body against mine, it was intoxicating.

We laid there, her body curled into my side perfectly as I wrapped my arm around her, pulling her in closer. I trailed my fingers down the length of her arm, tracing the lines of her tattoos, marveling at the strength and resilience I then realized they represented.

"I'm in love with you." The words tumbled out in a rush of breath and emotion. "I love you, Ely," I whispered against the top of her head, my lips brushing against her hair.

She smiled up at me, her eyes shining with unshed tears. "I love you too," she murmured, her hand coming up to cup my cheek. "I'm *in* love with you."

A shaky breath parts my lips as my eyes flutter open, pulling me back to reality. The ache in my chest is a tangible thing, a physical manifestation of the longing and regret that threatens to consume me.

I know now without a shadow of a doubt that my father did something, that he altered my memories, my very sense of self. But knowing it does little to ease the confusion, frustration, and anger. *What the fuck did he do to me? Why?*

I need answers. I need to understand what happened and why. But more than that, I need to replace a way to make things right with Elysian. I owe her that much.

It won't be easy, I know that much. But I also know that I can't give up. I can't walk away from her. Not again.

With a sigh, I press the **Start*' button of the ignition, the engine roaring to life beneath me. As I pull out onto the empty street, the city lights blurring past my window, I feel a flicker of hope spark in my chest. *I'll get her back. I don't care what I have to do.*