Less than Perfect by S. J. Evans (love letters to the dead txt) 📕

the opportunity to say three words she’d been aching to speak for what felt like an eternity to her: “I love you.”
At the sound of her voice, Jules smiled and ran his fingers through her hair. “You don’t know long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.” He kissed her forehead. “I could never tire of being with you, listening to the beat of your heart, hearing your voice, seeing you—I could never stop loving you, everything about you. You mean everything to me, Skye. And I mean…everything

.” He kissed her lips gently, just a simple brush of the lips.
Her heart skipped a beat, body gone rigid with fresh, renewed energy. She was about to say something, but stopped herself short, clumsily seeking his lips instead. There was a jolt of needles that tingled its way through her body, coursing through her veins, so raw and so enchanting she didn’t know whether they were pure or impure. All she knew was that she couldn’t stop herself from clinging to the man she loved, the man she’d wished for all those times when she’d been lost with Bryan. She couldn’t reject the gravitational pull Jules had on her, luring her to push the level of their relationship up a big step.
Maybe even a leap—a leap of courage.
Drawing him down closer to her, she fumbled with his shirt, unbuttoning the buttons and pushing it off of him as she leaned in for another kiss. She gasped as his hands brushed against the bare skin under her shirt, gently. It wasn’t fear that caused her heart to race, but desire. There was very little distance between their faces, lips meeting and parting repeatedly as they lay next to each other, deciding where to go next.
Slowly, she moved her hands along his chest in a downward motion, causing him to groan as he gripped her sides, almost roughly, and pulled away from a luscious kiss. She winced as the pressure of his hands at her side caught her off guard. She became restless, torn, by the sudden aggression he had. She didn’t want to fear him though; she wouldn’t allow herself to go down that road.
He won’t hurt me

, she chanted in her head. He’s not trying to hurt me. We’re both simply caught up in the moment.

And just as she was about to swallow her fear whole and try for another kiss, she was stopped short. She couldn’t stop the inevitable fate that suddenly plummeted into her life, as treacherous as it would seem.
Abruptly, Jules had drawn back, climbing off of the bed quickly enough so that she had no say in the matter before he was on his feet, running a shaky hand through his tousled hair. “No, Skye,” he snapped, disoriented. “We can’t be doing this.”
She sat up, hurt and trembling. “What?” She gasped for air, all of it having suddenly left when he’d spoken such distant, unnerving words. “We can’t be doing what, Jules?”
He avoided her gaze, staring at the floor instead. “This

,” he whispered. Without looking her in the eyes, he pointed to her, eyes terribly distant and dark. “Skye, we can’t get that close. You’re going to get hurt. I mean look what I had done to you already? You didn’t tell me to stop, Skye, and I was that close to crossing a line. You can’t tell me you wished I hadn’t touched you like that.”
Her mouth threatened to gape at him, taken so far aback that she couldn’t feel the pulsing in her temples anymore. She fell completely silent, trying to speak again and again, but only coming short. She screamed at herself inside, demanding that she’d speak and tell him he was wrong, but no matter how hard she tried, nothing happened. Her heart dropped to the pit of her stomach, eyes stung with tears, breath caught in her throat—she was frozen, staring at the man she loved with such a frazzled, timid stare.
“I’m so sorry,” he mumbled, squeezing his eyes shut. “I shouldn’t have let that happen, Skye. I’m terribly sorry I did that to you. It was wrong—we both know it was wrong.”
Tears cascaded down her pale face, emotions raging inside of her. Gaining enough courage, she managed to speak quiet sounds of a trembling heart, “I wanted you to touch me, Jules. I wanted what just happened to happen. Maybe it could have been better, how it came about and ended up, but I don’t regret it.” She shook her head. “I could never regret being with you, taking chances. What you did wasn’t wrong, Jules. So please don’t apologize, it wasn’t your f—”
“It was

my fault, Skye!” He looked at her—eyes red and swollen, dark and far away—face set in a grim expression. “I hurt you, and if you don’t think I did, well—I could have

hurt you. Don’t you see that, Skye? Don’t you get

that? You have no idea what I’m capable of!”
She scooted closer to the edge of the bed, closer to him, but he only backed away, fists clenched in distress. Her breath was escaping her, the air growing frighteningly cold around her, everything clenching her in a miserable knot, squeezing the life out of her. What was he saying? Was he trying to tell her that, without a doubt, he would hurt her

? She couldn’t breathe as all of the air in her lungs left her, leaving a desperate ache in its place. He wouldn’t hurt her, she’d convinced herself, frowning when she remembered his sudden temper, something so unusual it didn’t go unnoticed. She could tell from the look in his eyes that he was torn and nervous, angry with himself too. It broke her heart to see him so worked up.
Slowly, she closed her heavy eyes and took a deep breath. Breathe, Skye,

she instructed herself, you can handle this

. Despite the pain that pounded through her head, clouding her thoughts and fracturing the feeling of security she’d once felt, she shook her head. Her hands were clasped together, tightly, palms sticky with sweat. She was so confused, so torn, wondering why Jules could possibly be acting the way he was. Don’t know what I’m capable of?

What was that supposed to mean?
She had no idea.
But what she did

know was that she had to change his mind. She was certain that she had to calm him down, convince him that everything would be fine. With every last nerve in her body, she wanted to be sure he knew that she wasn’t scared of him. She wanted him to understand that she trusted him and wasn’t worried about him hurting her, needed

it. Although, despite her feeble attempts at clearing his unease at what they’d found themselves doing away from her mind, there was still that part of her—small but painful

—that told her there truly was something more behind Jules’s warnings. Something wasn’t quite right—something awfully unnerving.
Searching for his face, Skye crossed her legs and chewed on the insides of her cheek, on edge about what was happening between them. “Julian,” she croaked, using his full name for the main purpose to get his attention solely focused on her. Her heart dropped when she saw the pain and confusion flash across his face as he tilted his head to peak a glance at her. “You would never hurt me.” A sob threatened to burst from her lips, to break down the barrier she’d put up. She softened her raspy voice, with every will she could muster. “Please

, Jules,”—she hoped calling him by the name he preferred would lighten the situation—“stop suggesting that you will hurt me. I know you would never sink to that level; you’re too loving, too gentle.”
He gave away no emotion for a moment. His face was expressionless, slack, as he seemed to be processing her words. In that moment, Skye felt a glimmer of hope, air flooding into her lungs again. But the hope vanished as soon as it came, leaving her heart in a million pieces as her lungs went hollow again.
His face contorted in frustration, eyes darkened and lost, jaw tightened, brows creased. “I’m capable of much more than you’ll give me credit for, Skye!” The way he said her name, with an edge near disdain, caught her off guard, striking her right in the chest, tearing her heart apart. “I’m sorry, so sorry, that I touched you like I did. I’m sorry I’ve hurt you, confused you, and invaded your life like I have. It was a horrible

mistake of mine. But most of all, I’m sorry

this ever happened. I never wanted you to see me like this. I guess I’d just hoped I would be able to disregard my issues

before they caught up with us and changed things. But the truth is, you don’t really know me, Skye. You don’t know my history, my past life, my problems

; all you see is this

side—the better

side—of me. You have no idea what I’ve done. And I’m just—I’m sorry.” His voice was straggled, rigid, by the time he finished.
Skye slumped against the bed, distraught, ashamed, heartbroken, and utterly confused. What was he trying to say? Was he trying

to push her away? No, he couldn’t be. He wouldn’t do that to her; that would do much more damage than just hurting her physically. But something nagged at her shriveled up heart, telling her that she had been wrong about him.
Jules, the boy she’d fallen irrevocably and madly in love with, wasn’t who she thought he was. He was capable of hurting her, not physically but emotionally. There was nothing more she could do, nothing more she could say, to change what had just happened. She’d lost a piece of her heart, broken off by the only person she wanted to confide in.
She was sure then, in that moment, unable to look Jules in the eyes or breathe properly, that her world was truly falling apart. But she didn’t want to let it crumble easily; she wanted to fix things before there was nothing left. Yet, her emotions got the best of her.
“You were right Jules,” she whispered, hoarsely. “I don’t

know you.” She looked at him, briefly, and saw only emptiness staring back at her. Jules’s soul—his caring, lovable soul—had fleeted. And she realized just how terribly she’d wished there had been pain—or something

—because at least pain would mean he felt something more than simply empty

. A shell of numbness eclipsed her, raw and icy, replacing her desperate ache for resolve as she struggled to think. The truth was she didn’t know what

to think, or say. So she sat there, eyes glued on Jules’s masked face, heart shuddering as she slowly came to the conclusion that she and Jules had had their very first—major

—fight, and some things could possibly never be the same again.
Making a sound that resembled a choked up sob, Jules lowered his head, body rigid and shaky. “I’m so, so sorry, Skye,” he mumbled, quiet enough that the sound of his voice barely reached Skye’s ears.